Black wizards - Douglas Niles [4]
The port was silent, for the hour was past midnight. No splashing disturbed the boat's graceful movement as it glided slowly toward the overhanging protection of a high pier. Here, six paddles were withdrawn into the boat, while the remaining two pushed the narrow craft carefully between the pilings.
The shadowy figures lashed the boat to the pilings. One after another, they sprang to the pier and slipped quietly onto shore.
The figures moved carefully up the street of Corwell Town, darting from building to building with perfect stealth. The leader of the group, taller and stockier than the rest, paused to let the others pass while he watched for any sign of danger.
A silken black mask concealed the face of each of them, but this one pulled his aside to peer more effectively through the darkness. While manlike, he was not a man. A broad nose with wide, flared nostrils spread across his face, and his teeth were gleaming and sharp. Quickly, he pulled his mask into place and slipped after his band.
* * * * *
Tristan Kendrick, Prince of Corwell, was a little drunk. Perhaps more than a little, he decided, as a swelling of nausea rose within his stomach. His head hurt, and he wanted to go to bed – all of which made this argument seem that much more unpleasant.
"You don't act like a prince! You don't look like a prince! You'll never be fit to be a king of the Ffolk!" His father's harsh voice boomed behind him and cut through Tristan's weariness. The prince whirled to face the king.
"A year ago I routed an army of Northmen from these very walls!" he growled, resisting the urge to shout. "I fought the Beast that stood within our courtyard. Father, I even found the Sword of Cymrych Hugh!"
Tristan gestured at the mighty weapon, hanging in its place of honor above the hearth, crossed with his father's favorite boar spear. The sword was a treasured relic of his people and had been missing for centuries – until he and his friends had discovered it in the depths of a firbotg lair.
"All deeds very fine and heroic – and dramatic," the king sneered. "You've enjoyed the adulation of the ladies and the drinks of the aleman on those merits.
"But there is more to being a king than heroism. What do you know of our law – of the administration of this realm? Could you sit in Judgment over shepherds who argued about a shared pasture, or fishermen who quarreled over rights to a berth? Until you change this, you are not fit to rule. You know the customs – you can only be granted the kingship if a majority of the lords think you capable! I doubt they would, were the vote taken tomorrow!"
Tristan clenched his hands into fists, and for a moment he was so angry he could scarcely keep from striking his father. He walked away in frustration, finally flopping heavily into the largest chair in the study. Already the fog of alcohol was dissipating.
But his father would not abandon the attack. "It's amazing that the houndmaster even got you home," he said scornfully. "And where is Daryth now?"
"Probably in bed – but leave Daryth out of this! He's my friend, and I will not allow you to insult him!"
"Ever since Robyn left to study with her aunt, you've been acting like a brooding puppy one minute, and a drunken buffoon the next!"
"I love her! She's gone, and nothing seems to matter except the next time I can see her face. By the goddess, I miss her! I don't even know if she'll ever come back – what if she decides to spend her life in the woods, tending some Moonwell of the Vale?"
The king stalked around the chair to face his son, and the prince forced himself to meet his father's gaze.
"And what if she does? That is her privilege – and perhaps her responsibility. But you wouldn't know about that, would you? Responsibility has never -"
"Father, I have decided to go to Myrloch Vale and visit Robyn. I will leave as soon as I can prepare," Tristan interrupted bluntly. He had contemplated the idea several days earlier, but had not had the courage to tell the king. At least, he thought, this argument had given him that fortitude.
"That is exactly