The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [18]
Neil knew him. He’d first seen that pink, corpulent face at his own introduction to the court of Eslen. It was the Archgreft Valamhar of Aradal, once ambassador to the court of Crotheny.
“Saint Rooster’s balls,” Fail muttered under his breath.
“Hush,” Muriele hissed, then raised her voice.
“Archgreft.”
The Hanzish lord nodded and dismounted, aided by four of the eight young men in his livery who had come with him to the field. Then he took a knee.
“Majesty,” he said. “I must say, I am glad the Ansus have kept you well. I worried and prayed for you during your captivity.”
“I’m sorry you were troubled,” Muriele told him. “I do so dislike being the cause of disturbance.”
Aradal smiled uncertainly. “Well, I am all better now,” he replied.
“Yes. And rather camped in one of our cities,” she said, nodding at Copenwis.
“Oh, yes, that,” Aradal said. “I’m thinking that is what you’ve come to discuss.”
“You are as brilliant as ever, my lord,” she replied.
“Well, it must be the company I keep,” he said.
“Perhaps,” Muriele replied. “In any event, yes, I’ve been empowered by Empress Anne to take the terms of your withdrawal from our northern port.”
“Well, Majesty, that’s a bit sticky,” Aradal said. “You see, we had the king’s permission to take Copenwis under our protection.”
“By king you mean my brother-in-law Robert?” Muriele asked. “Robert was a usurper, never a lawful sovereign, so that’s easily cleared up. His word never came from the crown, and so you’ve no right or reason to be here.”
Aradal scratched his ear. “It’s rather more complicated than that, don’t you think?”
The queen drew back a bit. “I don’t see how. Take your fleet and your men and go home, Aradal.”
“Well, they aren’t my men or my fleet, are they, Majesty? They belong to His Majesty Marcomir III, and he recognizes Robert as king and emperor of Crotheny.”
“If you’ve given shelter to that hell-hearted bastard—” Fail began, but Muriele silenced him with a frown before turning back to the archgreft.
“If Robert has taken refuge with your liege, that is another matter,” she said, her voice sounding a bit strained. “But for now, I think bringing our countries back from the brink of war should do.”
Aradal lowered his voice. “Majesty, you assume that war is to be prevented. I rather think it will happen.”
“Marcomir’s avarice has been known for a long time,” Muriele said, “but—”
Aradal shook his head. “No, there is more to it than that, Majesty. Your daughter has murdered churchmen, Muriele. William defied the Church, but Anne has denied and attacked it. Our people are devout, and the signs are all around us. There are those who say that it is not enough to conquer Crotheny; they say it must be cleansed.” His voice lowered further. “Majesty, I have tried to tell you before, I am friendly to you. Take your daughter and those you care for and go to Virgenya or someplace even farther. I…” He broke off. “I have said too much.”
“You will do nothing?”
“I can do nothing.”
Muriele shrugged. “Very well. Then I must speak with Marcomir.”
Aradal’s brows raised. “Lady…”
“By the most ancient law of nations, by the covenant the free peoples created when the Skasloi were destroyed, you must provide me safe passage to the court of your king, and you must conduct me safely out of it. Even the Church itself cannot subvert that most basic law.”
Aradal’s cheek twitched.
“Can you do that? Can you uphold the ancient covenant?”
“I can give you my word,” he finally said. “But my word does not travel very far from me these days.”
The queen’s eyes widened. “You cannot be implying that Marcomir would kill me or take me prisoner.”
“I am saying, lady, that the world has gone mad, and I can promise nothing. My liege is a man of law, I assure you, and I would stake my life that he would not treat you ill.”
“But?”
“But I can promise nothing.”
Muriele took a deep breath and let it out. Then she straightened and spoke in her most courtly tones. “Will you arrange for my party to travel to the court under flag of truce so that I can press