The Blood Knight - J. Gregory Keyes [49]
“Well, how did she not?” Elyoner said. “With the emperor murdered, Muriele had few allies she could count on. Charles was on the throne, of course, but while Charles is a sweet lad, the entire kingdom knows that he is, well, saint-touched.”
Neil nodded. The true heir to the throne possessed the form of a man but the mind of a child.
“That left Muriele as the power behind the king. But there were plenty of others who wanted to fill that role: Praifec Hespero, any number of nobles from the Comven, princes from Hansa, Liery, and Virgenya. Then there was Lady Gramme, who has her own claimant to the crown.”
“My half brother,” Anne muttered.
“Illegitimate but nevertheless of Dare blood,” Elyoner replied. “In any event, Muriele might have kept Charles on the throne, but she made more than a few mistakes. She replaced her bodyguard with warriors from Liery, under the command of her uncle, who is a baron there.”
“I know Sir Fail,” Neil said. “He is my benefactor.”
“Almost a father, I’m told,” Elyoner said. “You’ll want to know that he, too, is alive—and safe.”
Neil felt more of his muscles loosen. “Thank you,” he said. He missed Sir Fail more than he could ever say. He had never felt the need for the old man’s advice as much as he had these last few months.
“Anyway,” Elyoner went on, “that was seen as a sign that she had decided to hand the throne over to her Lierish relatives across the sea. Then her men attacked a ball at the mansion of Lady Gramme. Those who had gathered there were mostly landwaerden, not nobles, but—”
“Landwaerden?” Neil asked.
The duchess blinked at him. “Yes? What about them?”
“I’ve, ah, no idea who they are.”
“Ah, my duckling,” Elyoner said. “Noble lines rule, you know: the king the country, the archgrefts the greffys, the dukes and duchesses the dukedoms, and so on. That’s how it is in most countries, and most places in Crotheny.
“But in the province of Newland, where Eslen is, things are a bit different. It’s below the level of the sea, you know. The malends that pump the water out must always be functioning; the dikes must be kept in good repair. For centuries the crown has granted land to those who showed themselves able to keep things running smoothly. Those people are the landwaerden. Many of them are wealthier than the nobility, they command troops, and they usually enjoy the loyalty of the people who live on and work their land. They are, in short, a power to be reckoned with, but they have been treated with indifference by the court for more than a century. Lady Gramme was courting them, trying to convince them to back her claim to the throne, so Muriele drew their anger when she attacked Gramme’s party.
“And then my poor dead brother Robert made his appearance—not so dead as was commonly thought. By that time Muriele had no clear friends save her Lierish guard; the nobles all supported Robert instead of Charles, and so did the Church. The only other living heir was Anne, and none of us knew where she was. Muriele was quite secretive about where she had sent her. I think Fastia knew.”
Her features softened, and Neil guessed that he had let something show in his face.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” Elyoner said, her sympathy sounding, for once, quite genuine. “I should not have mentioned her.”
“Why is that?” Anne asked abruptly.
Suddenly uncomfortable, Neil glanced away, trying to sort out something to say from the chaos of his thoughts.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Elyoner said. “No more talk of those who have passed for the moment.”
“No, never mind. I think I see,” Anne said. Her tone was flat, but whether she was angry, Neil couldn’t tell.
“In any event,” the duchess went on, “Muriele understood the situation well enough to send Charles away with Sir Fail and her Lierish guard, and the Craftsmen, too, who despite her treatment of them still appear to be loyal. Sir Fail took Charles to Liery, where he is for the moment safe.”
“And what of the Craftsmen?” Neil asked.
Elyoner’s right eyebrow went up. “Why, look around you, Sir Neil.”
Neil did so.