Sarene nodded. Sitting on his throne. Iadon finally made his decision regarding the case. He declared with a loud voice that the runaway peasant did indeed belong to the first noble, but his children would remain with the second. "For," Iadon pointed out, "the children have been fed all this time by their current master."
The peasant didn't cry out at the decision, he simply looked down at his feet, and Sarene felt a stab of sorrow. When the man looked up. however, there was something in his eyes-something beneath the enforced subservience. Hate. There was still enough spirit left in him for that ever-powerful emotion.
"This won't go on much longer," she said quietly. "The people won't stand for it."
"The working class lived for centuries under the Fjordell feudal system," Lukel pointed out. "And they were treated worse than farm animals."
"Yes, but they were raised to it," Sarene said. "People in ancient Fjorden didn't know better-to them, the feudal system was the only system. These people are different. Ten years really isn't all that long-the Arelish peasantry can remember a time when the men they now call masters were simple shopkeepers and tradesmen. They know that there is a better life. More importantly, they know a government can collapse. making those who were once servants into masters. Iadon has put too much on them too quickly."
Lukel smiled. "You sound like Prince Raoden."
Sarene paused. "Did you know him well?"
"He was my best friend." Lukel said with a sorrowful nod. "The greatest man I have ever known."
"Tell me about him, Luke!" she requested, her voice soft.
Lukel thought for a moment, then spoke with a reminiscent voice. "Raoden made people happy. Your day could have been as sour as winter, and the prince and his optimism would arrive, and with a few gentle words he would make you realize just how silly you were being. He was brilliant as well; he knew every Aon. and couId draw them with perfection, and he was always coming up with some weird new philosophy that no one but Father could understand. Even with my training at the university in Svorden, I still couldn't follow half of his theories."
"He sounds like he was flawless."
Lukel smiIed. "In everything but cards. He always lost when we played tooledoo, even if he did talk me into paying for dinner afterward. He would have made a horrible merchant-he didn't really care about money. He would lose a game of tooledoo just because he knew I got a thrill from the victory. I never saw him sad. or angry-except when he was at one of the outer plantations, visiting the people. He did that often; then he would come back to the court and speak his thoughts on the matter quite directly."
"I'll bet the king didn't think much of that," Sarene said with a slight smile.
"He hated it," Lukel said. "Iadon tried everything short of banishing Raoden to keep him quiet, but nothing worked. The prince would find a way to work his opinion into any and every royal ruling. He was the crown prince, and so court laws-written by Iadon himself-gave Raoden a chance to speak his mind in every matter brought before the king. And let me tell you, Princess, you don't know what a scolding is until you've had one from Raoden. The man could be so stern at times that even the stone walls would shrivel beneath his tongue."
Sarene sat back, enjoying the image of Iadon being denounced by his own son before the entire court.
"I miss him," Lukel said quietly. "This country needed Raoden. He was beginning to make some real differences; he had gathered quite a following amongst the nobles. Now the group is fragmenting without his leadership. Father and I are trying to hold them together. but I've been gone so long that I'm out of touch. And. of course, few of them trust Father."
"What? Why not:"
"He has something of a reputation for being a scoundrel. Besides, he doesn't have a title. He's refused every one the king tried to give him."
Sarene's brow furled. "Wait a moment-I thought Uncle Kiin opposed the king. Why would Iadon try to give him a title?"
Lukel smiled. "Iadon can't help it. The king's entire government is built on the idea that monetary success is justification for rule. Father is extremely successful, and the law says that money equals nobility. You see, the king was foolish enough to think that everyone rich would think the same way he does, and so he wouldn't have any opposition as long as he gave titles to everyone affluent. Father's refusal to accept a title is really a way of undermining Iadon's sovereignty, and the
king knows it. As long as there's even one rich man who isn't technically a nobleman, the Arelish aristocratic system is flawed. Old Iadon nearly has a fit every time Father appears in court."
"He should come by more often then." Sarene said wickedly.
"Father finds plenty of opportunities to show his face. He and Raoden met nearly every afternoon here in the court to play a game of ShinDa. It was an unending source of discomfort to Iadon that they chose to do this in his own throne room. but again, his own laws proclaimed that the court was open to everyone his son invited, so he couldn't throw them out."
— It sounds like the prince had a talent for using the king's own laws against him."
"It was one of his more endearing traits," Lukel said with a smile. "Somehow Raoden would twist every one of Iadon's new decrees until they turned around and slapped the king in the face. Iadon spent nearly every moment of the last five years trying to find a way to disinherit Raoden. It turns out Domi solved that problem for him in the end."
Either Domi, Sarene thought with growing suspicion, or one of Iadon's own assassins… "Who inherits now?" she asked.
"That's not exactly certain," Lukel said. "Iadon probably plans to have another son-Eshen is young enough. One of the more powerful dukes would probably be next in line. Lord Telrii or Lord Roial."
"Are they here?" Sarene asked, scanning the crowd.
"Roial isn't," Lukel said, "but that's Duke Telrii over there." Lukel nodded toward a pompous-looking man standing near the far wall. Lean and strong-postured, he might have been handsome had he not displayed signs of gross indulgence. His clothing sparkled with sewn-in gemstones, and his fingers glittered gold and silver. As he turned, Sarene could see that the left side of his face was marred by a massive, purplish birthmark.
"Let us hope the throne never falls to him," Lukel said. "Iadon is disagreeable, but at least he's fiscally responsible. Iadon is a miser. Telrii, however, is a spender. He likes money, and he likes those who give it to him. He'd probably be the richest man in Arelon if he weren't so lavish-as it is. he's a poor third, behind the king and Duke Roial."
Sarene frowned. "The king would have disinherited Raoden, leaving the country with no visible heir? Doesn't he know anything about succession wars?"
Lukel shrugged. "Apparently, he'd rather have no heir than risk leaving Rao-den in charge."
"He couldn't have things like freedom and compassion ruining his perfect little monarchy," Sarene said.
"Exactly."
"These nobles who followed Raoden. Do they ever meet?"
"No," Lukel said with a frown. "They're too afraid to continue without the prince's protection. We've convinced a few of the more dedicated ones to gather one last time tomorrow, but I doubt anything will come of it."
"1 want to be there," Sarene said.
"These men don't like newcomers. Cousin," Lukel warned. "They've grown very jumpy-they know their meetings could be considered treasonous.-
"It's the last time they plan to meet anyway. What are they going to do if I show up? Refuse to come anymore?"
Lukel paused, then smiled. "All right, I'll teII Father, and he'll find a way to get you in."
"We can both tell him over lunch," Sarene said. taking one last dissatisfied look at her canvas, then walking over to pack up her paints.
"So you're coming to lunch after all?"