Mordant's Need 2: A Man Rides Through by Stephen R. Donaldson

Author:Stephen R. Donaldson [Stephen R. Donaldson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Epic, Fantasy, Fiction, General, Science fiction
ISBN: 9780345459848
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2003-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

Soundless on the carpet, Castellan Lebbick strode toward the chairs on the right and sat down a few places away from the Tor, leaving Prince Kragen, Geraden, and Terisa in the open space before the throne. Inconsequently, she noticed the burned spot on the rug, where Havelock had once dropped his censer. No one had bothered to mend it. King Joyse hadn't had much use for his audience hall in recent years.

He didn't have much use for it now, apparently. He wasn't present.

Prince Kragen surveyed the hall; he scanned the balconies. The corner of his moustache lifted as if he were sneering. When he had completed his study of the King's defenses, he said clearly, "Remarkable. Is this the best audience King Joyse can produce? If an ambassador came to the Alend Monarch, at least a hundred nobles would commemorate the occasion, regardless of the hour-or the urgency." A moment later, however, he remarked politely, "Most impressive, Castellan. For the first time, I truly believe that you do not intend to harm us. You would not need so many men-and so many witnesses-to procure our deaths.

"What do you intend? Where is King Joyse?"

Castellan Lebbick remained sitting. In a voice which resembled his laugh, he barked, "Norge!"

Slowly, almost casually, one of the captains stood and came to attention. He saluted the Castellan calmly. In fact, everything about him seemed calm. He sounded like he was talking in his sleep.

"My lord Castellan?"

"Norge, where is King Joyse?" demanded Lebbick.

Norge shrugged comfortably. "I spoke to him myself, my lord Castellan. I told him what you said. I even told him what the Prince said. He said, 'Then you'd better get the audience hall ready.'"

Apparently, the captain didn't think any other comment was necessary. He sat down.

Terisa heard a door open and close as the servant left, his job done.

Castellan Lebbick faced the Prince. "Now," he said, "you know as much as I do. Are you satisfied?"

"No, Castellan," put in King Joyse. "I doubt that he knows as much as you do. And I'm sure he isn't satisfied."

Somehow, Terisa had missed the King's arrival. He must have entered from a door hidden behind his seat: she jumped to that conclusion because he was beside the pediment now, with one hand braced on the base of the throne as if he were about to go up the four or five steps and sit down. Nevertheless she hadn't seen him come in. For all she knew, he had appeared by Imagery.

He was wearing what she took to be his formal attire: a robe of purple velvet, not especially clean; a circlet of gold to keep his white hair off his forehead. And from a brocade strap over his right shoulder hung a tooled sheath which held a longsword with a jeweled pommel. His blue eyes were as watery and vague as she remembered them; his hands appeared arthritic, swollen and inflexible. The way he moved conveyed the impression that he was frail under his robe, barely able to support his own weight; too frail for dignity or decision.

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