A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [147]
Hatred, however, is a very poor reason to start a war, for the simple reason that it makes a man blind to his enemy’s good qualities. The Eldidd lords were so intent on thinking King Aeryc a dishonorable usurper that they forgot he was no fool. For years he’d seen trouble coming in that distant province, and he had spies there, paid in good solid coin to send him what news there was to know. Even as Yvmur and the priests chose a night for pronouncing Cawaryn king, one of those spies was receiving his pay, up in Dun Deverry, for some very interesting news.
• • •
Although a fire of massive logs burned in the hearth, it was cold at the window, an exhalation of chill damp from the stone walls and an icy breath from the glass panes. Outside the royal palace in Dun Deverry, the first snow lay scattered on dead brown grass. The king was restless, pacing idly back and forth from window to hearth. A handsome man, with striking green eyes, Aeryc stood over six feet tall, but he looked even taller thanks to his mane of stiff pale hair, bleached with lime and combed straight back in the Dawntime fashion. Since he was on his feet, Councillor Melyr was forced to stand, too, but the old man kept close to the fire. His lean face was drawn with worry—reasonably enough, Aeryc thought, since it was a dangerous point that they were discussing.
“We’re simply sick of waiting,” Aeryc said. “If the king is going to tolerate rebellion, then the king deserves rebellion.”
“No doubt, my liege, but does the king truly think he should take the field himself?”
“We have yet to make up our mind on this point.”
Out of pity for the councillor’s age, Aeryc sat down. With a grateful sigh, Melyr sank into a chair opposite.
“But if we ride to Eldidd, then we must ride soon,” Aeryc went on. “Hence our haste.”
“Just so, my liege. The roads will be bad soon.”
“Just that.” Aeryc considered, too troubled to keep up the proper formalities. “Cursed if I’ll let this pack of Eldidd dogs enthrone their usurper without any trouble. They’ll all be in Abernaudd with their warbands, then, anyway.”
“If this information you’ve received is accurate.”
“Why should Gurcyn lie? He’s been loyal to me—or to my coin, more like—for years. He gathered news from all over the province, to say naught of what he saw with his own eyes. The cursed gall of those whoreson merchants! Celebrating this piss-poor excuse of a lad’s wedding with a royal cauldron.”
When in sheer rage Aeryc got up from his chair, creaking at the joints, Melyr rose to join him.
“But, my liege, will a spy’s word be sufficient proof of treason in the eyes of the rest of the kingdom? Some of the Eldidd lords may have individual alliances in the western parts of Deverry. A king whom men secretly call unjust is a king with many troubles on his hands.”
“True-spoken. From the point of view of war, it would be better to fall on them straightaway and wipe them out one at a time. But from the point of view of rulership, you’re right. It’s better to wait. But I see naught wrong with being close enough to march as soon as this impious farce of a ceremony is done with. Cerrmor’s never snowbound. I intend to take an army down while the roads are still clear. Then we can take ship for Eldidd when the time comes.”
“A brilliant stroke, my liege. There remains the question of whether the king himself will ride with his men. It seems unnecessary to me. I have every faith that your captains honor you enough to fight as bravely for your sake as they would with you at their head.”
“Of course. So what? I’m going, and that’s that. I want to grind their faces in the mire myself. The gall of this piss-proud