Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [57]
Tasha nodded, saying nothing for a moment. “But do we want to tell them now or later.” He cocked one eyebrow at his brother. “Consider the circumstances. We know and trust Panterra and little sister, but the members of the High Council do not. They are humans, and many do not trust humans. Will they be believed or doubted? Will the High Council choose to act at once or will they debate the matter until the cows come home?”
“You think they will not be believed?”
“I think it is a distinct possibility.”
“Do we take it directly to the King, instead? He may dither on it as well, as he does with so much these days.”
Tasha shrugged. “That is the question, isn’t it.”
“Is Oparion Amarantyne still King?” Prue interjected.
The big man nodded slowly. “He is. But his Queen is new. And therein lies the problem.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “After all these years, little sister, he remarried. Abruptly and foolishly, if you ask us. His Queen is young and beautiful and fickle. In spite of his years of experience and his keen mind, she plays him like a musical instrument. He would do anything for her; if not for his close friends and the members of the High Council, he would likely do things he would later regret. She has his ear on all matters, and it is her firm intention to guide him in his decision making until the day he dies.”
“At which time,” Tenerife cut in, “there is a widespread suspicion that she intends to carry on without him.”
Panterra and Prue exchanged a glance. “Is that possible?” the girl asked. “Will she be named Queen after him?”
“Another good question,” Tasha replied, rubbing his chin as if to extract an answer. “Will she succeed him? Or will Phryne?”
Phryne Amarantyne. The King’s daughter by his first wife was a formidable adversary. Panterra had met her only once, but that was enough. She was young but very tough. “I see the problem,” he acknowledged.
“Not entirely, you don’t,” Tasha said.
“But likely you will before long,” Tenerife added.
“So you don’t think we should take this before the Elven High Council?” Prue asked.
Tasha leaned back, exchanged a look with his brother, and shook his head. “Not yet, at least. If we take it before the High Council at this point, we risk losing all credibility if they fail to believe any part of your story. As well, the Queen will find out, and as I’ve said there are a number of reasons for all of us not to want that to happen. I think we should keep this quiet until we know more.”
“We need to make a trip up into the mountains and see what we can find out for ourselves about the passes,” Tenerife declared. “After we’ve done that, we can decide how to attack this.”
“But we’ll need the King’s permission to do that.” Tasha drummed his fingers on the table.
“Yes, of course. But maybe we can gain that permission quietly.”
“Without the Queen knowing what we’re doing?”
Tenerife stretched his lean body, extending his legs and looking skyward contemplatively. “Difficult, but not impossible.”
“The King will tell her.”
“Not if we can find a way to persuade him not to. Of course, we can’t just ask him outright. We might be his cousins, but he won’t stand for that sort of interference.”
They looked at one another in silence. Tasha drank some more ale and contemplated the tabletop. Tenerife kept looking up at the sky, and Prue stared down at her hands, folded in front of her. Panterra found himself wondering what they were getting themselves into.
“What we need is a bit of misdirection,” Tenerife said suddenly.
When he had finished explaining what it was that he meant, everyone was smiling.
TWELVE
FOUR HOURS LATER, PHRYNE AMARANTYNE SAT SILENTLY across the table from the Orullian twins and the boy and girl from Glensk Wood, studying their faces. She let them wait on her, not wanting to respond too quickly. Their story was outlandish and dangerous, and she hadn’t yet decided how much of it she believed. If it had been the Orullians telling it, she would have dismissed it out of hand. Cousins or not, they were well