The Coral Kingdom - Douglas Niles [58]
How had she known about the Elf-Eater-its rampage, or the means to vanquish it? And what unerring sense had brought her right to the scene of the fight, just when her presence could make a difference? How much did she know-and how did she learn it? A cautionary part of him wanted to remain in Corwell to observe the frightening development of Deirdre's power.
Yet Keane never questioned the importance of his own presence on the mission to rescue the king. Without his spells, the expedition's slim survival chances would be drastically decreased, in the mage's well-considered and unemotional opinion.
He spent many hours in study, and in the transcribing of spells from his great, leather-bound spellbook to a smaller volume that he would take with him aboard the Princess of Moonshae. Abruptly the lean magic-user straightened up and sighed, reminded by a pang of jealousy that they would be placing themselves in Brandon Olafsson's hands for the duration of their voyage.
Not that he had any doubts as to the young northman's proficiency as a sailor. In fact, the root of his jealousy was quite the opposite-Brand was such a fine sailor that he was bound to gain stature in the eyes of the Princess Alicia. Keane, on the other hand, would go on being… well, Keane.
Still, there was no question of him remaining behind. He thought of Alicia, touching the private part of his heart, the only place where he dared admit the truth. Keane had finally allowed himself to admit that he loved the princess, had loved her since she was little more than a girl. Always he had remained aloof, keeping this part of himself locked away, but he could no longer deny it. He would follow Alicia Kendrick to the farthest corner of the Realms if she set out in that direction.
Of course, Brandon Olafsson would probably be there waiting for them, Keane reflected ruefully. He came to the same woeful conclusion when he considered his other competitor. Hanrald, Earl of Fairheight, seemed like such a confident and capable suitor, and if he didn't press his case with as much vigor as Brandon, he remained a strong and manly presence. Gloomily the magic-user pondered his rivals-if he himself could even be called a participant in that contest.
There were times when he felt that such was not the case. He thought of Alicia's undiluted vitality. In the Palace of the Ages, she had been the one to voice the humans' resentment of Llewyrr arrogance. He had admired her when she had challenged the Serene Matriarch, even as he realized that he could not have uttered such statements himself.
Both the other men were closer to Alicia's age at twenty, and while Keane had a mere eight years on them, there were times when he felt three decades older. Alicia, Brand, and Hanrald were also all people of action. The two Ffolk were splendid riders, the northman a magnificent sea captain. Keane, on the contrary, felt equally uncomfortable bouncing on horseback or pitching deck.
Stop this! Angrily he rebuked himself, realizing that he might precipitate a dive into a dangerous depression. Fifteen minutes had passed since last he had dipped his quill into the inkwell! With a shake of his head, he forced himself to look at his work. Eventually the discipline that had enabled him, at a relatively young age, to master many spells that most magic-users never learned in all their lives allowed him to focus on his preparations.
Three hours later, he was done. He took another fifteen minutes to shave and don a clean tunic and trousers, arriving in the great hall just as the main course-roasts of venison and boar-was served.
As luck would have it, Hanrald had saved him a place at the head table, placing the tutor between the earl himself and Deirdre. Brigit and Alicia sat across the table from them.
"Nice you could join us," said Alicia, her tone cool. Obviously she had expected him earlier.
"I had a little work to do