Geran reached down and took Terov’s ring hand again. “Then swear to me that Vaasa will never again interfere in Hulburg’s affairs or support Hulburg’s enemies for the purpose of harming my family or realm, and I will let you leave here alive and unharmed.”
Terov shook his head. “I cannot swear that oath. Never would make it impossible, and therefore powerless. Five years I could promise you.”
“Make it twenty,” Kara said.
Terov grimaced, holding his jaw gingerly. “Ten, and in all candor, that is all I can promise without intent of evasion. There are limits to the authority I wield on the council’s behalf.”
“Ten years, then,” Geran decided. “Swear it, and you can go.”
“I swear on the part of the Council of Knights that no Warlock Knight or agent of Vaasa shall interfere in Hulburg’s affairs or give support to Hulburg’s enemies for the purpose of harming the realm or persons of the Hulmasters, to be so bound for ten years from this day.”
Geran felt an eddy of magic gathering in the ring under his hand. He released Terov and stepped back, sheathing Umbrach Nyth. The Warlock Knight stood up slowly, and regarded Geran for a long moment. The gray turret of his iron tower was a dark shadow peeking through the trees by the shores of Lake Hul. “May we collect our wounded and dead?” asked Terov.
“Go ahead,” the swordmage answered. “But I want that tower out of Hulburg’s territory by the end of the day tomorrow.”
“We will be gone by sunset today.” Terov motioned to his soldiers, who quickly gathered their wounded comrades. The veiled mage was sorely hurt, and Geran wasn’t sure if she would survive or not, but the Vaasans quickly fashioned a litter for her. They left the Council Guards where they’d fallen or sat wounded under guard, and set off on foot down the road.
“That’s done for now, but what happens in ten years?” Mirya asked as they watched Terov and his soldiers march away.
“I have no idea,” Geran answered. “But I’ve got to believe that in ten years we can find a way to convince the Vaasans that we’re capable of looking after our own affairs-or, at the very least, are more trouble than we’re worth for them.” He shook himself, and turned toward Hulburg again. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
EPILOGUE
11 Tarsakh, the Year of Deep Water Drifting (1480 DR)
A little less than a month later, the great hall of Griffonwatch was as full as Geran had ever seen it. It seemed that half of Hulburg had gathered in the harmach’s hall. Bright sunshine flooded in through the windows high overhead, and the smoke-darkened rafters had been dusted, scrubbed, and freshly lacquered. Old banners that had been removed by Marstel’s servants were back in their places, repaired and cleaned for the occasion; after all, it had been more than thirty years since the coronation of a new harmach. Geran leaned against a doorway in the back of the hall, watching as his young cousin Natali sat in the harmach’s seat, receiving the oaths of allegiance and well-wishing of her new subjects. She wore a dress of rich yellow, and her dark hair was coiffed beneath a slim gold tiara for the occasion. Her eyes looked big, dark, and perhaps a little frightened, but she’d been coached well for the ceremony, and Kara-wearing a fine dress and an elegant coiffure instead of her customary riding clothes or arms and armor-stood right beside her.
“You’ll do fine, Natali,” Geran murmured, even though he was much too far away for her to hear him. The musicians at the far end of the hall blew a small fanfare of their trumpets. Roars of approval, applause, and shouts of “the Lady Harmach!” and “Harmach Natali!” echoed throughout the great hall. Geran joined in, settling for raising his fist in the air and shouting “Huzzah!” since he’d learned the hard way that it was a bad idea to applaud with his new hand. He hadn’t found any way to remove it short of simply amputating it from his wrist, so he simply kept it hidden beneath a thin glove of fine leather that matched his formal coat.
“Well, that was close,” Hamil remarked to Geran. He, Mirya, and Sarth watched from beside Geran. “They almost made you king, there. Good thing you picked the wrong chair, but poor Natali!”
Geran answered his friend with a smile and took Mirya’s hand, admiring the dress she wore-an elegant gown of a soft rose hue with beautiful embroidery and delicate patterns of tiny white pearls. Where she’d found something like that in Hulburg, he couldn’t fathom, but she looked lovelier than he’d ever imagined in it. She read the unspoken compliment in his gaze and smiled softly for him.
“The realm’s in good keeping,” she said. “And this time I think it will stay that way. You’ve done right by your uncle.”
“I hope so.” Geran turned to Sarth, gripping the tiefling by the shoulder. The tiefling still leaned on a cane, but Geran guessed that he wouldn’t need it for much longer. “You’re looking well, Sarth. I’m glad that you’re here.”
“It is a great day for your family. I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Sarth replied.
“You’re staying, then?” Mirya asked him.
“I believe I am.” Sarth nodded at the people filling the hall. “Hulburg is one of the few places I’ve been where my deeds seem to outweigh my appearance. In fact, Kara has asked me to assume the title of master mage; I find that I like my prospects.”
“I, on the other hand, have decided that I can’t bear the prospect of another summer in a land where it never gets warm enough to kick off your shoes, or lie in the sun, or think about jumping into a nice, cool lake,” Hamil said. He gave a dramatic shiver. “I think I’ll be returning to Tantras soon. The Red Sails have been without my attention for far too long. If I stay away much longer, I might find that I am no longer a man of means, and that would be truly tragic.”
“You’ll visit soon, I hope,” said Mirya. “Selsha thinks the sun rises and sets on you, you know.”
“Well, I certainly can’t trust Geran to look after Red Sail business here by himself. I’ll be back at least once before the end of the summer to see to a few things. Maybe more than once, if Geran gets himself in some trouble that I have to fix.”
Kara appeared at Geran’s elbow, having briefly escaped from her well-wishers. She leaned forward to embrace Sarth, then Hamil, and then Mirya as well. “Thank you all for coming,” she said. “And my thanks to each of you for what you’ve done for us. Without your help, Maroth Marstel would still reign in this castle. We couldn’t have set things right without you.”
Mirya curtsied, and Sarth bowed his head. “It was our pleasure,” Hamil replied with a bow of his own. “And the right thing to do, Lady Regent.”
“Enough of that nonsense, Hamil,” Kara replied. “And you too, Sarth, Mirya. Kara is my name, and I’ll be sore if you don’t use it. Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to have a word with Geran. I promise to return him soon.”
Geran looked at Mirya and his comrades, and shrugged. “Please, excuse us.”
“Let’s find some fresh air for a moment,” Kara said. She led him to the stairs and threaded her arm through his. Together they climbed up to the balcony overlooking the hall and the upper courtyard beyond, the traditional dividing line between Griffonwatch’s public chambers and the personal residence of the Hulmasters. The sun was bright and the day promised to be warm for Tarsakh, but the shadows still held a chill; spring in Hulburg was never all that warm.
“Did I do the right thing by Natali?” Geran asked Kara as they walked. “I feel that I’ve stolen the rest of her childhood by what I’ve done today.”
“At times it will be hard for her, but you shouldn’t worry for Natali. I can shelter her for some time yet, and she’ll have all of us to keep an eye on her. No one will expect her to be anything other than a lively young girl for a few years, except maybe once in a while when she has to dress up for some banquet or ceremony.”
He paused to look down at her. “Thank you, Kara. That eases my conscience.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Geran. I’m not through with you. You owe me something for chaining me to the throne for the next ten years.”