Выбрать главу

Karse actually had a king, but the position was purely symbolic, and had been for centuries. King Ortrech largely presided over a court concerned with the social functions of the old nobility and moneyed classes; the Sunpriests made all the real decisions insofar as the actual running of Karse. The King merely ratified what the priests decided, and occasionally the priests would in turn implement some small thing that the King wanted, such as the creation of a new title or the granting of property to make a court noble into a landed one.

This, of course, was probably one of the causes of strife between the two lands—that Valdemar was ruled by a purely secular figure, and Karse by (supposedly) a divinely-guided one. Alberich wished that he was far enough along in the History classes to see what had happened when the Borders of Karse and Valdemar first met. Had that been the primal cause of the enmity? Or had it been something else?

The first few pages of the text on Valdemaran law and government had been perfectly straightforward. But then, toward the end of the assigned segment, he encountered a passage that left him blinking.

Of course, in the circumstance (which has only occurred three times in our recorded histories) that there have been no children of the reigning monarch that were Chosen, it falls to the nearest blood relative who is also a Herald to take up the Crown.

The text had gone on to describe how such a selection was made, based less upon the degree of consanguinity than of ability. Most of that had seemed irrelevant to Alberich—until he came to the part that said "...and the vote of the Heraldic Circle as a bloc in the election of a new Monarchprovided that the candidate is at least a Trainee, if not a full Heraldcomprises one third of the total, with that of the Council comprising two thirds."

Ordinary Heralds got a one-third vote in the selection of a King? That was tantamount to the officers of the Sunsguard having a say in the selection of the Son of the Sun!

He didn't know quite what to think about that. There was no question, however, that the Heralds had as much to do with creating the laws and government as they did in disseminating and dispensing it.

The morning classes kept him too busy to worry about all that, however, and by the time his putative tutor showed up, theoretical questions about the government of Valdemar had been pushed so far to the back of his mind that they didn't impinge on his thoughts in the least.

Then, when he saw his "tutor," the question foremost was if someone at the Collegium intended to mock him.

The "tutor" was a young woman in student Grays, slim and blonde, with a determined jaw and blue-gray eyes that considered him thoughtfully. He recognized her from the advanced weaponry class held at the very end of the day, although Dethor had never yet assigned Alberich to work directly with her.

"You might not remember me from the afternoon classes, Alberich," the girl said, in a matter-of-fact manner, as she held out her hand. "I'm Selenay."

"My tutor you are?" he replied, clasping her hand briefly. He didn't bother to hide the doubt in his voice.

She laughed, which surprised him a little. "Unlikely, I know, but the powers that be intend for you to get a practical exposure to how things are done in Valdemar, and they decided that we might as well—as the saying here goes—shoot two ducks with one arrow. You see, I'm the Heir. Princess Selenay. And every other afternoon, I serve in the City Courts. No one likes me being there without a bodyguard, and with you as my bodyguard, you can observe—as Elcarth put it—'government in action.' Anything you don't understand, I can explain, or Kantor can. Meanwhile, your presence will make the Council less nervous about my being there in the first place."

Alberich controlled his expression, and managed not to splutter. "At your side, the presence of the Karsite less nervous will make them?"

"But they won't know it's the Karsite who's my bodyguard," she replied, with a bare hint of irony. "Who I pick—with the senior Collegium staff's recommendations, of course—to act as my bodyguard is entirely the Collegium's business, not the Council's. All they will know, unless one of them decides to observe me, is that I've got someone in Grays to keep a weather-eye on my safety. They'll rightly assume that since Dethor must have had a hand in picking him, my escort will be quite competent. Oh, eventually they'll find out, you can't keep anything like that a secret, but by that time it will be so long established that objecting to my choice would make them look like idiots."

:Don't spoil her fun; she's been planning this for a fortnight,: Kantor advised.

:But—to trust me with the safety of the Heir—: He was utterly flabbergasted. He might have to look as if all this was just a matter of course, but at least he could drop any pretense of composure with Kantor, and he did so.

:Aren't you trustworthy?: Kantor countered :I know you would be the best person for the task; no one would take it as seriously as you will, because the Heralds all have a blind spot where the safety of Selenay is concerned. They believe that no one realizes that "Trainee Selenay" and the Heir are the same person, which is ridiculousit's not exactly a secret, and even if it was, you couldn't keep information like that secure for very long.:

Not very bright of them. :And just because no one has tried to harm her, no one ever will, hmm?: he replied. :Perhaps it does take someone from outside to see the danger.:

:Too true, I fear. And that isn't all, of course. You need to see how we work, so to speak, and you'll learn more from watching a common Herald's court than you ever would from books.:

:But when the great men find out who it is that is standing guard over their princess —:

:By that time you'll have proved yourself, and no one will think anything of it.: Kantor sounded very certain of himself; Alberich wasn't certain of anything except that there would be repercussions.

But who would be the ones facing the repercussions? Not I. No, that would be Dethor—Talamir—

"The King, your father—" he ventured. "Knows he of this?"

"Of course; he was the first one I suggested this to. I suppose you're ready?" Selenay asked, as calm and casual as if he'd asked what time of day it was.

"Ready?" What was he supposed to be ready for?

"You're coming down into the city with me, correct? As my bodyguard. You might as well start right now." She looked him up and down, critically. "That set of Grays should do, I suppose; they don't look quite like Trainee Grays, but they'll be all right. Are there any particular weapons you'd like to carry?"

"Weapons I would like to carry?" he repeated, feeling as if he'd been run over by something. "Ah—knives. A sword?"

"Well, let's get them and get on our way." Selenay waited for him to collect a set of plain knives and a common sword that he had just finished working on. He'd found them in that shed, and he had liked the balance immediately and had taken extra care with them, rewrapping the grips, cleaning, polishing, and sharpening. They were of sound make and good steel, and if old and much-abused, at least he knew they were in decent shape, with no hidden weakness in tang or blade. And he had never been the sort who got attached to a particular chunk of metal; as far as he was concerned, one blade was as good as another so long as it was balanced and sharp.