King William should have known it was too much to hope for that his celebration should proceed without incident. Today’s games were to be the capping entertainment. They were nearly a disaster. While he was relieved that Daven survived the contest mostly unscathed, he was supremely disappointed in his son’s lack of control. The games were to entertain, an opportunity to display skill not blood lust. It should not have been forgotten that the point of this festival was to celebrate how they had risen above their violent history. As Daven stood over his fallen opponent, his face sprayed in his blood, William honestly believed he had killed the young man. Perhaps he ought to be grateful they had both survived. No one else appeared to mind the dismemberment.
William poured more wine in his cup paying no heed to server shivering at his elbow. King Waldhar tapped his cup with his ring and winked at the youth. William tipped his cup while he scanned the room for Gilchrist. His brother had forced his way into Lisseon using the linen robes of his newly purchased position as Bishop of Gulistan. He declared himself a holy representative of the church and not one of William’s border guards could conceive how to deny him. William let him remain for the sake of not offending any of his foreign guests. Their opinion of his brother was governed primarily by the pomp of his present office. He was not fooled by his wanton displays of piety. No amount of white linen or purple sashes would change the fact that he was a traitor.
The banquet room was haze of grey and deep shadow from the effects of poor ventilation. Festoons of lavender and rosemary mingled with the smell of smoke, sour ale and sweaty bodies. It was a heady mix that was increased by the stupor induced by what they were serving. Half of the men and women had already passed out or crept off to whatever dark corner they could find. The celebrations of this night would assure more mouths to feed in the coming year.
He peered through the haze looking for Stephen and Daven. Neither was present. Stephen had taken it upon himself to escort his uncle about for the entirety of the celebration. As for Daven, William had not seen him since the games. He must have decided to shake off the day’s events far out of sight.
“You are too hard on the boy.” Waldhar said interrupting his thoughts.
“You refer to Daven?” William’s frown deepened. It was disconcerting how Waldhar could instigate a conversation with him as if hearing his thoughts.
“Who else? He is not one to be controlled and that troubles you.”
“You had plenty of time to observe and formulate your opinion on the road.”
“That I did. Though what I saw even today was enough for my good opinion.”
“Indeed.” William answered judiciously. “Did I find fault in his victory?”
Waldhar chuckled lightly. “Not in word. We are hardest on our favorites lest someone find out our real weakness. But what I wouldn’t give for just one of your sons.” He winked and sighed. “Alas, the lord has seen fit to bless me only with daughters. Though the priest they sent to reform me advised that it is because for too long I have prayed to the wrong god.”
“Every priest has his opinion. You are too old to care what any of them say.” William envied him the seeming simplicity of his kingdom. Whether by age or intent things always fell just as Waldhar wished them to.
“I have ten daughters. I told that son of a half wit that if ten daughters is what praying to the wrong god brings me, praying to the right one might very well kill me.” King Waldhar’s eyes crinkled with amusement. William smiled in spite of himself and drained his cup and this time let his attendant refill it. The outline of the room was getting smaller and fuzzier.
“Come I have better wine in my chambers.” William felt his wine more than he would like before the company of his men. If he was going to try to keep up with Waldhar they had better do it elsewhere.
“What and leave our men?”
“We won’t be missed.”
As they walked through the double doors he ordered one of the servers to have one of the special casks taken to his chambers, wine from his personal reserve. The boy bowed curtly and sprinted down the corridor. Waldhar waved off his guards and happily followed William toward his room. He leapt briskly over snoring guards and slapped his hands together eagerly. William spotted several groping couples in the shadows and for a fleeting second he thought he saw Engle entwined with a dark haired lovely in a red gown with gold thread twisting through the hem, like the one Isabel had worn. The knight looked up somewhat sheepishly as soon as he made eye contact the illusion was broken. The man’s build and his wavy hair were very like Engle’s in younger years and while the woman’s dress was in a similar color to Isabel’s, her figure was not. All at once he realized Waldhar was waiting for him to say something. The couple retreated into the dark with the woman’s giggle reverberating down the hall and the young man’s clumsy effort to shush her.
“You’ll make your men feel irrelevant.” William remarked.
“They are irrelevant.” Waldhar kicked an unconscious attendant and the man jumped to his feet red faced. “They are fine lads. Their hovering over me like a mother hen makes me jumpy. We are among friends here. And I can still handle a sword better than either of them.”
What he said was no mere boast. He was the finest swordsman William had ever seen, except perhaps Engle. Waldhar distinguished himself in several battle campaigns and thwarted more than one assassination attempt without any benefit of a personal guard. He used his guard now only at the behest of his nervous young wife.
The doors of his chamber swung open to receive them. There was a cask tapped and waiting. A kitchen boy was just finishing laying out bread and cheese to compliment their drink.
“Your people work quickly.” Waldhar raised his brows.
“Yes. Perhaps your wife will work as quickly providing you a son?” Waldhar’s eyes narrowed and then he burst out laughing. “Aye, aye, that she might. But we are discussing you and your fine sons.”
“Daven to be precise.” William groaned a little as he imagined what mischief he would brewing tonight. He might have been one half of any of the number of couples they passed on the way to his chamber. His build was not so different from that knight that they startled in the hallway.
“He tests you. Sons ought to a little. You should have seen how he handled himself with that mess on the road. It doesn’t take his father to know he had never seen anything like that before. It does things to a man to see something like that but then there was the way Daven took after that wee they found. Caught him up on the front of his saddle when the babe took a liking to him.”
“I am sorry you had to see that. We have not had any trouble for many years as you well know.”
“Until Engle was gone.”
William took a long drink and pretended not to hear for the sakes of both their nations.
“They were unfortunate souls,” Waldhar continued. “You are not the first king to have to fight such a plague nor will you be the last. Just the same you can be proud to have sons that are not squeamish to such things especially now.”
“They had a good teacher.” William said a under his breath. He knew he ought to be proud but lately all he could do was find fault. Daven had made the last several months a misery. William wanted to applaud his accomplishments not diminish them.
“They have a fine father!” Waldhar corrected, slapping him heartily on the back. He raised his cup and emptied its contents. “I see now why you asked me to private audience. This is far too good to share. Now can I have anyone of your boys for a son in law? They can have their pick of the lot. Take them all off my hands if you like.”
“Are you proposing a marriage?”
“I am proposing a harem if your priest did not die of the shock of it. And why should he. They say King Solomon had a thousand wives. His is a god I can pray to.”
“Too many mouths to feed.”
“Ridiculous. I’ve had three wives.”
“In succession, not at the same time. What are we talking about?” William smirked a little. Waldhar’s persistent good humor was infectious.
“Living like the ancient kings. Take as many wives as we wish and pick from a dozen sons.”
“That is hardly a sane practice in our times. It might very well get us expelled from the church.” William laughed heartily, wondering what his brother would do if Lisseon suddenly refused to acknowledge any church authority all.
Waldhar raised his cup and William followed suit. “I am in the beginnings of a delightful stupor. Truly your sons are fine men and I should like to have the problem of choosing between them. An advantageous marriage could make either sons claim to the throne more certain.”
“It doesn’t make my decision easier. Are you not troubled by that display this afternoon?”
“The fool had hate in his eyes. Anyone could see that.”
“That young man lost his wife and son less than a fortnight ago. He should not have been allowed to fight. Daven knew this.”
“Did he have a choice? The man entered into the circle. Would you rather have him branded a coward for refusing to fight?”
William took a long slow drink. He knew Daven had done the best he could. Byron entered under a false name. “If we could manage to get through a fortnight without incident I could make a decision.” He mumbled into his cup.
“You mean for Daven to succeed you.” Waldhar said directly.
William’s spine tightened to hear the words spoken. He raised his eyes to study Waldhar’s expression and saw that haze of wine had faded from his eyes.
“You do mean for him to succeed you. Don’t you?” He repeated.
“I mean to choose which of my sons will serve this kingdom best.” William struggled for equal command of his voice.
“You could do no wrong by selecting either. Stephen is a born diplomat, respected though not necessarily feared. Daven is a valiant man and time will add to his distinction. His rashness will yield place to heroism. He is one born to inspire the bards. He reminds me of me.” Waldhar laughed lightly but his expression remained sober. He leaned in toward William. “It is pleasant to see everything so clearly black or white. It works so well in song, but you and I know that it is not the way of the world.”
“They are good men, both of them. The war of my conscience is more to do with my pride than any hesitation over their ability to protect and lead this people.” The words came out calmer than he expected.
“From what I can see there is no worry of one revolting against the other. You have raised them better than your father did by you and Gilchrist. Of course Engle was a good strong hand to them both. Then I suppose that is the primary point to your brother’s present arguments. No doubt it is his influence that stays your hand from finally settling the matter.”
The wine diminished William’s ability to control his anger and his desire to do so. He grabbed hold of Waldhar’s tunic and hissed between his teeth. “I ought to know better than to trade confidences with strangers.”
“We are not strangers you and I. I think value as an ally has been proven more than once.” Waldhar returned evenly, his tone neither threat nor submission.
William released Waldhar and sat back, his hands still shaking. “I know how we have relied on you through the years. But I take both the credit and the shame for the actions of my sons. I know my court and am well acquainted with my brother’s intentions.”
“I do not wish to raise quarrel but I would not confess to your priest. He is calculating time about your sons. All I am saying is that he will make of it what he can.”
“I think you have said quite enough!” William rose.
“Indeed I have. Your wine makes fools quickly. It is time I retire.”
“It is a strong drink. I forget what we have been speaking of.”
“Then it was a very good cask, as wise.” Waldhar rose and shook his hand warmly before starting for the door. “Just one thing more. You said that young man was not meant to fight. A man with nothing to lose and skill equal to nearly succeeded in killing your son, steps into the arena unchallenged by his fellows. Perhaps Daven’s trouble was not of his own making.”
William imagined the outcome of Daven’s swordfight as Waldhar insinuated. The old king would have him jumping at shadows. What purpose his death would serve other than to tear out his heart? William took another sip from his cup and the wine turned to ash in his mouth. He picked up the half empty cask and hurled it across the room. It smashed into splinters against the wall and the stones bled wine.
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