Tales of the King's Blades #02 - Lord of the Fire Lands by Dave Duncan

Author:Dave Duncan [Duncan, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9780380791279
Publisher: New York : EOS, 2000, c1999.
Published: 2000-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Many things must have happened that night unbeknownst to the impudent atheling--secret meetings in which the various factions bargained, conspired, and betrayed. One illicit act that the King had expressly forbidden happened right outside Radgar's cubbyhole and, although he was aware of it, he was not old enough for the thegns' lechery to disturb him unduly. It gave him one more hold over them, in fact. He certainly wouldn't let girls make a fool of him like that when he grew up! He pulled a pillow over his head and went to sleep while the absurd nonsense was still in progress. He awoke at dawn feeling almost his old self. The witenagemot did not convene until noon and several earls appeared much later. The mood was grim. Lord Candlefen was clearly determined to refuse the sort of humiliating concessions he had made the previous day, while the Baels had the smell of blood in their nostrils. Numerous thumping headaches did not improve the prospects for compromise or reasoned debate. When the moot reeve called for discussion of the next clause, it was Earl Swetmann who rose to speak. The spectators murmured in surprise, for none of the Bloods had participated in the debate the previous day. From the Chivians' point of view the change was no improvement. The baby-faced thegn bargained like a blacksmith's hammer, ignoring all arguments and leaving the envoys no choice except to take it or leave it. Reluctantly they took it. Swetmann smiled contemptuously and sat down. On the next clause another Blood took over and did the same thing. Radgar noticed that his Baelish uncle--the one on the throne--was openly smirking, while his Chivian uncle--the one in the cockpit--was aghast, his normally florid face pale as a fish belly. The clash of the fat uncles! Being more aware of the background than most people, Radgar soon realized that King Aeled must have taken Swetmann and his supporters into the plot and given them the pleasure of making the enemy bleed. But if the Bloods had accepted that enjoyable task, they must have agreed to support the treaty that would result. It would be sufficiently lopsided to satisfy even them. For a long time it did seem that the Chivians would balk. Proceedings became exceedingly boring, an endless drone of speeches. The limits the ambassador had been given were fallback positions; he was not supposed to retreat that far on every point. Lord Candlefen's diplomatic career was in ruins. Several times the moot was adjourned to let him consult his advisors. Radgar daydreamed, wondering if his bruises would permit him to take Isgicel out. Dad just sat and listened patiently, revealing nothing. Hour by hour, clause by clause, the Chivians conceded. They tried a desperate last stand on Clause One, which dealt with the end to hostilities and the return of prisoners. Many captured Baels languished in Chivian jails or labored in Chivian mines. Baelmark was demanding that they all be sent home at once, no

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