Today the little Prince brought along a tempting dish of candied fruit and a book of pirate adventures. The genial prison warden, Edruk, fetched the ring of keys when Tolo presented himself in the guards’ anteroom.
“How fares my Royal Father?” the boy asked politely. He and Edruk walked down the torchlit corridor toward the chamber where the King was held. There were locked iron doors on both sides, and behind them dwelt certain enemies of the Queen Regent whom she did not dare to put to death.
“The King seems to grow ever more cheerful as the days pass, young Lord.” Edruk opened the door to Antar’s cell. “And this is a great contrast to my experience with most prisoners … Enter. I will return to let you out in half an hour.”
Tolo thanked the warden gravely and went in. The door clanged shut behind him and the well-oiled click of the lock followed. Antar looked up from a letter he was writing and smiled at his youngest son. He wore simple clothing and his hair and beard had been trimmed since Tolo saw him last. He did look quite content. Through the narrow glazed embrasure of the cell the boy could see falling snow, but the chamber was warm and snug.
When the Prince spoke his greeting and placed the gifts on the table, Antar gathered his son to his bosom and kissed him.
“Well—and are you still working as hard as ever at becoming the sorcerer’s apprentice?”
The boy pulled away. “I wish you would not make fun of me, Papa. Master Portolanus never does. He says I possess the natural aura of a born thoo—thaumaturgist!”
“I apologize.” Antar’s blue eyes were twinkling. “Still, I trust that you are not getting so fond of that mountebank’s amusements that you would prefer them … to going home.”
The boy’s face fell. “Home? Is Mama sending her talisman as ransom for us after all? The sorcerer said she had refused! I thought you would stay locked up here for a while. Portolanus has sent to Tuzamen for his collection of magical machines, and he says they will arrive soon. But if we are ransomed now, I will not be able to see them!”
The King’s jocular manner abruptly changed to one of stern disappointment. He took hold of Tolo’s shoulders. “My son, do you realize what you are saying? No—of course you don’t. I know you have become fond of this sorcerer. But he is not a kindly worker of marvels as you might think. He is a wicked man whose ambition is to destroy the Two Thrones.”
The Prince turned away, his brow setting in an obstinate scowl. “That’s what the Pirate Queen says. But it’s not true. She’s the one who wants to conquer our country, not Portolanus.”
“That may be what he told you.” Antar spoke more gently. “But it is Portolanus who has lied to you, Tolo. If he should obtain your mother’s talisman, he would be in a position to conquer the world. He and his Raktumian allies would invade Labornok and Ruwenda and kill our people and steal our riches. In time, all of the other peaceful nations would fall before him as well.”
“But he doesn’t want Mama’s talisman!” the boy cried. “He has Aunt Kadi’s, and he says that’s enough. She didn’t know how to use it to do great things. But Portolanus is finding out its secrets! He told me so! He is going to use it to turn his poor little country into a great one. The talisman will make the sun shine on Tuzamen, and turn the soil rich instead of barren, and make the farm animals multiply and grow fat, and bring jewels and gold and platinum pouring out of the mountains!”
“Dear God. Is that what he told you?”
But the Prince rushed on. “Portolanus doesn’t have to conquer other countries. The talisman will give him anything he wants! That’s why he told Mama he didn’t want her talisman when she offered it to him. He did have us all kidnapped to get her talisman. But when he got Aunt Kadi’s instead, he didn’t really need Mama’s anymore.”
“He lies, Tolo. I know that he turned down the chance to get your mother’s talisman in the Windlorn Isles, refusing when she offered it as ransom. Why he did that is a mystery. But consider carefully, lad! If Portolanus does not still covet the talisman, why are you and I still held prisoner?”
“It’s the Pirate Queen’s fault,” Tolo whispered. “Portolanus promised me he’d help get you away from her.”
“Lies … lies.” Antar shook his head. “You are so very young. But you are old enough to know that grown-ups think very differently from children, and they do not always say what they mean. Portolanus does not want riches, my son—he wants power. He wants to command kings and queens and entire nations, not live peacefully in Castle Tenebrose, playing magical games with you and showering gold and diamonds on his people.”
“He says I can be Master of Tuzamen someday.”
“What?”
“He says he’ll make me his heir,” the boy declared. “He’s taken a great fancy to me. I won’t just be a useless old second prince anymore. I’ll learn to be a wizard like him, and when he retires to do nothing but study old-timey magic, I’ll rule his country! He hasn’t got any children of his own. He says really great sorcerers can’t have any. They have to adopt an heir … and he wants to adopt me!”
“You would renounce your own family in favor of this villainous trickster?” the King cried, his fingers tightening on the boy’s arms. But Tolo twisted about like a frenzied animal, pulling away, and ran defiantly to the cell door.
“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Antar exclaimed. “You’re only a baby! A silly baby!”
The cell door opened.
“It is time for the Prince to go,” Edruk said. His usually amiable face had gone grim.
“I want to go!” Tolo shrieked, darting out into the corridor. Tears had begun to stream down his cheeks. “Papa, I don’t want to see you anymore!”
“My son, come back! I should not have spoken so unkindly.” The King strode toward the door, but Edruk barred the way, and a moment later the lock was turned.
“Tolo!” Antar’s voice was muffled by the iron and the stone walls. “Tolo, don’t go!”
The boy wiped his face on his sleeve, then followed the prison warden out into the anteroom. Two cruel-faced men wearing the livery of the Queen’s personal service waited there.
“Here he is,” Edruk said, with a sigh. “Both Zillak and I overheard his conversation with his father. It was as the Great Queen suspected.”
Powerful hands seized each of Tolivar’s upper arms. “You’ll come with us,” one of the servitors growled. At Tolo’s frightened squeal the man laughed. “And step lively. Her Majesty doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
There were loud voices coming from behind the closed door of Ganondri’s private sitting room. Two armored noblemen stood outside with crossed swords and prevented Tolo’s escort from knocking.
“But the Queen Regent would want this royal whelp to be brought to her immediately!” one of the burly servants protested. “He has information of great importance!”
“She is with our most gracious Lord, King Ledavardis,” one of the pirate-nobles said brusquely. He and his companion both wore the King’s badge. “And you will wait.”
The two pairs of retainers glowered at one another while the shouting continued within, and Tolo’s fear turned to fascination. Clearly the Pirate Queen and her grandson, the Goblin Kinglet, were having a flaming row! It was impossible to understand what they said.
After a few minutes the door was yanked open and Ledavardis, white-faced with rage, stalked out.
“No—you shall not turn your back on me!” Ganondri screamed after him. “Come back, you arrogant ingrate!”
Ignoring her shouts, the sturdy young hunchback beckoned for his two men to follow and tramped off down the hallway.
Ganondri now came to the door, her features twisted by fury and her elaborately dressed auburn hair pulled awry. She wore a purple gown and a matching light cloak trimmed with gold lacework. At the sight of Tolo and the servants she reclaimed her dignity with some effort and motioned for the men to bring the boy inside. At a table a bottle of ink had been upset over a sheaf of official papers and b
lack liquid dripped slowly onto the priceless carpet beneath. Another document, ripped into fragments, lay scattered on the floor together with a quill-pen that had been snapped in half.
Paying no attention to the disarray, the Queen Regent went to a serving tabouret and poured herself a crystal tumbler of brandy. After she had drunk, she whirled about and fixed her glittering green eyes on Prince Tolivar.
“Is it true,” she asked in a quiet, harsh voice, “that your mother, Queen Anigel, offered to give her talisman to Portolanus while we were yet in the Windlorn Isles?”
“Yes,” the boy mumbled, staring at his shoes. “I think so.”
“Speak up!”
“My—my Royal Father said so. He never lies.”
“And Portolanus told you that he did not want Anigel’s talisman. Is that correct?”
“He—no. He never said that.”
She darted forward suddenly and took hold of his ear, tweaking it sharply so that he bawled with pain. “Tell the truth!”
The Prince sobbed: “I am! Owww … that hurts!”
“Did Portolanus say that he had no need of your mother’s talisman? Tell me, you cringing little slime-dawdler! Or I shall have my men slice off your nose and throw you into the deepest dungeon!”
Weeping and trembling, Tolo sagged to the floor. “Don’t hurt me any more! Yes! He did say it! He did.”
Ganondri turned him loose and looked down at him with distaste. “That’s better … What a craven, contemptible piece of work you are! You have no more loyalty to that conjuring rogue, your benefactor, than to your own father. Faugh! You disgust me. Even my misbegotten grandson is made of better stuff than you.”
“Don’t hurt me.” The Prince sniffled, shielding his head with his arms. The two servitors hauled him upright.
“Take the little wretch away,” Ganondri told the men, “lock him in his room, and guard him well.”
The men bowed and dragged Prince Tolivar out. He was weeping again.
When they were gone, Ganondri said to herself: “It is worse than I thought. But I may yet salvage the situation by bold action—provided that Portolanus has not gained sudden expertise in the use of that damned Burning Eye.”
Pulling on a bell-cord, she had her lady-in-waiting summon the Captain of the Palace Guard and twenty men. Then she set off for the apartment that she had assigned to Portolanus.
“Great Queen, what an unexpected honor!” Rubbing his gnarled hands nervously, the decrepit sorcerer arose from a table piled high with books to greet the royal visitor and the small army accompanying her. The Black, Yellow, and Purple Voices peered forth from an inner chamber, displaying ill-disguised alarm.
“Take his henchmen in hand,” Ganondri commanded. The Captain of the Guard gestured, and six heavily armed men seized the acolytes, while Portolanus first squeaked in consternation, then galloped across the room, slippers flapping, toward a great carved chest of polished wood.
“Stop him!” the Queen Regent cried. “He is after the talisman!”
The Captain and four men with drawn swords sprang after Portolanus and grabbed hold of his tatty robe. He howled, slipping out of it, and dived at the chest wearing nothing but a breechclout about his scrawny loins. But one of the guardsmen gave the box a mighty kick with his mailed foot and sent it sliding out of the sorcerer’s reach.
“Well done!” Ganondri exclaimed, a thin smile brushing her lips. Three of the guardsmen restrained the squirming old man, and he suddenly slumped, breathing heavily, and gasped:
“Great Queen, this is a most regrettable misunderstanding. I would be happy—”
“Silence, conjurer!”
She seated herself on a cushioned bench while Portolanus was made to stand before her. “Let us begin our discussion with Ledavardis. You assured me that you would cast a spell of docility upon my unruly grandson. And yet, when I presented him with certain important documents to sign this evening, he not only refused flatly, but also insulted me to my face and declared that my reign would shortly come to an end.”
“I cannot understand it!” the sorcerer whined. “My Voices have administered the required potion to the young King every day since our return to Frangine. He should by now be as meek as a newborn woth!”
Ganondri uttered a disdainful snort. But then her expression grew more ominously thoughtful. “Incompetent!… Or have you decided to disavow our alliance in spite of my warning? Is that it? Do you think that, now that we are back on dry land, you will be able to set some new scheme in motion against me? Are you fool enough to think that you can use my witling grandson as your tool?”
“Never! You are mistaken, Great Queen!”
“Am I also mistaken in my belief that Anigel of Laboruwenda offered you her talisman as ransom weeks ago, while we were still in the Windlorn Isles? And you refused to accept it?”
“No, I do not deny that. I feared that if I made Anigel’s offer known to you, you in your eagerness to have that all-but-worthless trinket would release the King forthwith. And this would have been a fatal blow to our design for conquest. We need King Antar captive, if our plan to subdue Laboruwenda is to succeed! Only he would be able to rally the divided loyalties of the Labornoki nobility. His countrymen will never fight wholeheartedly under the banner of the Two Thrones unless Antar himself leads them. If Antar remains a prisoner, the invasion will allow Lord Osorkon, our creature, to seize control of Labornok. The conquest of Ruwenda will follow the capitulation of Labornok as day follows night, given that the bulk of the Ruwendian forces have gone away to the south, to defend Var.”
“How very plausible,” Ganondri said archly. “And this is the true reason why you declined to accept my talisman?” She screeched the last two words in a towering rage.
“I swear it! What good would the thing do you, woman? Are you a sorceress? Claiming it would be a fruitless gesture.”
“The decision was mine to make, not yours!” she said. “And yet you dared to keep it from me! You feared what would happen if we were to become equals in magic!”
“Nonsense. You are being quite ridiculous.”
“How dare you!” Ganondri shrieked. “You—you—”
Beside herself, the Queen surged up from her seat. Drawing the jeweled dagger from the sheath at her belt, she flung herself at Portolanus.
The sorcerer said: “Enough of this comedy.”
As the Queen Regent faltered before him, not believing what her eyes showed her was happening, Portolanus assumed his normal physical appearance. His nearly naked body became tall and stalwart, his beard and hair shining white, and his silver-blue eyes incandescent. Held high in his right hand was the Three-Lobed Burning Eye.
Queen Ganondri seemed to become a statue, poised on one foot, with the dagger lifted to strike.
The men of the Palace Guard likewise froze, unable to move except for their wildly rolling eyes.
The acolytes wriggled free of their petrified captors and hastened to bring their master a fresh white robe. The Black Voice opened the wooden chest, reverently lifted out the silver leather belt and scabbard that had been newly made for the Three-Lobed Burning Eye, and fastened it about the sorcerer’s narrow waist. The Yellow Voice and the Purple scrambled about, disarming the guardsmen and relieving Ganondri of her deadly little poniard. Then they stepped back. Portolanus sheathed his talisman and released Ganondri from her paralysis with an offhand gesture.
“Of course you were right about my deception,” he said to the Queen in silken tones. “It would never have done for Anigel to give her talisman to you! While we remained on shipboard, your prudent precautions stayed my hand. But now the time for dissembling is over … Ledo! Come forth!”
Young King Ledavardis stepped out of an inner chamber, approached his grandmother, and stared impassively at her. He held a small object carefully in both hands.
“You were very clever, Queen Regent,” the sorcerer went on, “and thought you had maneuvered me into a trap from which I could not escape without losin
g the Raktumian alliance. You adjudged yourself safe from any machinations of mine because you rule Raktum, and any move against you by me—a foreigner of most dubious repute!—would seem to your people to be a threat to Raktum itself. As you correctly pointed out, I need Raktum’s good will! But, Lady, I do not need yours … only his.” Portolanus pointed to Ledavardis. “And he hates you, for good and sufficient reasons.”
The Queen’s green eyes darted from her grandson’s pitiless face to that of the smiling sorcerer and then back again. “You do not dare to kill me!”
Portolanus nodded. “That is true. Nor do I dare to exile you or lock you away. Fortunately, the customs of your own pirate kingdom provide me with a solution to the dilemma. These witnesses”—the sorcerer gestured to the paralyzed guardsmen—“retain full command of their wits. I enjoin them to observe and remember what next befalls.”
The sorcerer nodded to the boy-King, who approached his grandmother and showed to her a small golden box. Using the greatest care, he removed its close-fitting lid. A wide-meshed screen of fine gold wire stretched across the box’s opening. Ganondri glanced down, and gave a thin mewling cry. Her face went gray. Turning away from her, King Ledavardis displayed the contents of the box to all of the frozen guardsmen.
Inside, something small and dark and glistening with slime reared up. A tiny appendage thrust momentarily through the mesh, a kind of tentacle with two needlelike stings at the end. Twin drops of venom, glistening like crystal beads, hung from their tips.
“You men know what this is,” the hunchbacked young monarch said. “In the ancient days, when a corsair of our nation was accused of betraying his comrades, he had the choice of pleading guilty and taking his own life, or undergoing the ordeal of the shareek. Sometimes, the shareek adjudged the accused innocent.”
“No!” whispered Ganondri. “You … you cannot do this to one of your own flesh and blood!”
“Queen Regent,” said the youth, “I accuse you of depriving me of my rightful throne. I accuse you of conspiring to have me declared incompetent so that you might rule Raktum in my place. I accuse you of the murder, torture, and imprisonment of over three hundred souls who were my loyal adherents … And now you will be judged.”