Medan’s mouth twitched in amusement. “And has he the expression of someone who has just bitten into a bad fig?”
“Correct, my lord.”
“Palthainon,” said Medan. “The Puppet Master. I was wondering when he would turn up.” Medan glanced through the glass-paned door at the king. “As the story goes in the old child’s tale, Palthainon will find his puppet king has turned into a real one. Unlike the child’s tale, I don’t think this puppeteer will be pleased to lose his puppet.”
“Should he be permitted to come up, my lord?”
“No,” said Medan coolly. “The king is otherwise engaged. Let Palthainon await His Majesty’s pleasure. Who else wants admittance?”
Gerard’s expression darkened. He lowered his voice. “The elf Kalindas, my lord. He requests admittance. He has heard, he says, that the Queen Mother is here. He refuses to leave.”
Medan frowned. “How did he find out the Queen Mother was in the palace?”
“I don’t know, my lord,” said Gerard. “He did not hear it from his brother. As you ordered, we did not permit Kelevandros to leave. When I was so weary I could not keep my eyes open anymore, Planchet kept watch to see that he did not try to slip out.”
Medan cast a glance at Kelevandros. The elf, wrapped in his cloak, was still apparently sound asleep in a far corner of the room.
“My lord,” said Gerard, “may I speak plainly?”
Medan gave a wry smile. “You’ve done nothing else since you entered my service, young man.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘entering’ your service, my lord,” returned Gerard. “I am here because, as you must know or could have guessed, I deemed my remaining with you to be the best way to protect the Queen Mother. I know that one of those two elves is a traitor. I know that one of them has betrayed Laurana, the mistress who trusted them. That was how you knew to be waiting for Palin Majere that morning in the woods. One of those two told you. They were the only ones who knew. Am I right?”
His voice was harsh, accusing.
Medan eyed him. “Yes, you are right. Believe me when I say, Sir Solamnic, that you do not look at me with more disgust than I look at myself. Yes, I used Kalindas. I had no choice. If the scum did not report to me, he would have reported directly to Beryl, and I would not have known what was going on. I did what I could to protect the Queen Mother. I knew well that she aided and abetted the rebels. Beryl would have killed Laurana long ago, if it hadn’t been for me. So do not presume to judge me, young man.”
“I am sorry, my lord,” Gerard said, contrite. “I did not understand. What do we do? Should I send Kalindas away?”
“No,” said Medan, rubbing his jaw that was gray and grizzled with a day’s growth of stubble. “Better to have him here where I can keep an eye on him. There is no telling what mischief he might cause if he were wandering around loose.”
“He could be... removed,” Gerard suggested uncomfortably. Medan shook his head. “Laurana might believe that one of her servants was a spy, but I doubt very much if her son would. Kelevandros would certainly not, and if we killed his brother he would raise such an outcry that we would have to kill him, as well. How will it look to the elven people, whose trust I must win, if they hear that I have started butchering elves on His Majesty’s very doorstep? Besides, I need to ascertain if Kalindas has been in communication with Beryl’s forces and what he told them.”
“Very good, my lord,” said Gerard. “I will keep close watch on him.”
“I will keep watch on him, Gerard,” the Marshal amended. “Kalindas knows you, or have you forgotten? He betrayed you, as well. If he finds you here with me, my trusted confidant, he will be immediately suspicious. He might do something desperate.”
“You are right, my lord,” Gerard said, frowning. “I had forgotten. Perhaps I could return to headquarters.”
“You will return to headquarters, Sir Knight,” Medan said. “Your own headquarters. I am sending you back to Solamnia.”
“No, my lord,” Gerard said stubbornly. “I refuse to go.”
“Listen to me, Gerard,” the Marshal said, resting his hand on the young man’s shoulder, “I have not said this to His Majesty or the Queen Mother—although I think she already knows. The battle we are about to fight is the last desperate struggle of a drowning man going under for the third time. Qualinost cannot hope to stand against the might of Beryl’s army. This fight is at best a delaying action to buy time for the refugees to flee.”
“Then I will most certainly stay, my lord,” Gerard said steadily, his tone defiant. “I could not in honor do otherwise.”
“If I make this an order?” Medan asked.
“I would say you are not my commander and that I owe no allegiance to you,” Gerard returned, his expression grim.
“And I would say you are a very selfish young man who has no concept of true honor,” Medan replied.
“Selfish, my lord?” Gerard repeated, stung by the accusation. “How can it be selfish to offer my life for this cause?”
“You will be of more value to the cause alive than dead,” Medan stated.
“You did not hear me out. When I suggested that you return to Solamnia, I was not sending you to some safe haven. I had in mind that you will take word of our plight to the Knights’ Council in Solanthus and ask for their aid.”
Gerard regarded the Marshal skeptically. “You are asking for the aid of the Solamnics, my lord?”
“No,” said Medan. “The Queen Mother is asking for the aid of the Solamnic Knights. You will be her representative.”
Gerard was clearly still distrustful.
“I have calculated that we have ten days, Gerard,” the Marshal continued. “Ten days until the army reaches Qualinost. If you leave immediately on dragonback, you could reach Solanthus the day after tomorrow at the latest. The Knights could not send an army, but mounted dragonriders could at least help guard the civilians.” He smiled grimly.
“Do not believe that I am sending you out of harm’s way, sir. I expect you to come back with them, and then you and I will not fight each other, but side by side.”
Gerard’s face cleared. “I am sorry I questioned you, my lord. I will leave at once. I will need a swift mount.”
“You will have one. My own Razor. You will ride him.”
“I could not take your horse, sir,” Gerard protested.
“Razor is not a horse,” said Medan. “He is my dragon. A blue. He has been in my service since the Chaos War. What is the matter now?”
Gerard had gone extremely pale. “Sir,” he said, clearing his throat, “I feel it only right that you know . . . I have never ridden a dragon. . . .” He swallowed, burning with shame. “I have never even seen one.”
“It is high time you did,” Medan said, clapping Gerard on the back. “A most exhilarating experience. I have always regretted that my duties as Marshal kept me from riding as much as I would have liked. Razor is stabled in a secret location outside Qualinost. I will give you directions and send written orders with my seal so that the stable master will know you come by my command. I will also send a message to Razor. Do not worry. He will bear you swiftly and in safety. You are not fearful of heights, are you?”
“No, my lord,” Gerard said, gulping. What else could he say?
“Excellent. I will draw up the orders at once,” Medan said. Returning to the main chamber, motioning for Gerard to accompany him, Medan sat down at Planchet’s desk and began to write.
“What of Kalindas, my lord?” Gerard asked in a low undertone. Medan glanced at Laurana and Gilthas, who were together on the opposite side of the room, still conferring.
“It will not hurt him to cool his heels for awhile.”