She couldn’t wait to see the look on her father’s face when she brought him the Cup.
Amaury sat at the king’s desk as the three royal advisors were shown into the room. When they had heard the news, they had all demanded to be allowed to call on the king, who was now in his bedchamber, attended by the royal physician and his staff. Amaury had been content to allow the visit. Seeing the king as he was would soften their resolve, and Amaury wasn’t in the mood for a hard fight.
Filing into the king’s office, they all looked less full of bluster than usual, as they took their seats without waiting for Amaury’s permission. That didn’t bother him. No amount of disrespect would lessen the enjoyment of what he was about to do.
A dozen armed members of the Order were waiting in concealment. He could have used the Royal Guard for the job, but reckoned it was time that everyone realised there would be a new way of doing things in the Kingdom of Mirabaya.
“I’m glad you could join me, gentlemen, at this most distressing time.”
“What did you do to him?” General Marchant said. The soldier, rather than the politicians, was always the one to give him the most direct trouble, and Amaury was prepared.
“I ensured he got immediate medical attention. Were it not for my haste in acting, he might have died. As it is, hope remains that he will recover. I have here a document, signed and sealed by the king, appointing me as his regent in the event of his incapacity or demise before his legitimate successor has reached majority.”
“I’ll never agree to that,” Chancellor Renaud said.
Amaury laughed. “You don’t need to. Everything required by law for me to take up the regency is contained in this document. I didn’t bring you gentlemen here to approve of these arrangements. I brought you here—” He reached forward and rang the king’s desk bell. “I brought you here to have you all arrested for treason.”
On cue, the two doors into the room opened and several Spurriers stepped in. They were new appointments all, found for Amaury by Luther; some of them looked as though they had spent the previous day hopping from bar brawl to bar brawl on the docks.
“You can’t do this,” Canet of the City Watch said.
“Can and have. Your counsel to the king of late has clearly been contrary to the best interests of the kingdom. The appropriate paperwork has been completed and signed by the Lord Chief Justice”—a man long under Amaury’s thumb.
“All that remains is for you to take up your new accommodations downstairs. Take them out.”
There was a volley of protests that had reached begging on the part of Renaud by the time he was being muscled out the door. Amaury considered having them fed poison—an untraceable one created at the Priory. Men and women sent down to the dungeons were rarely seen again, so it was unlikely questions would be asked. If anything, the poison was more than was necessary, but Amaury knew there was no hurry to decide. The last thing he needed were figureheads around which opposition could be mounted.
When peace and quiet reigned in the office once more, he sat back to think. Three letters lay on the desk, notifying the new appointees of their roles as counsellors to the king. They were all senior noblemen of rank, befitting the honour.
The first was an inveterate gambler whose notes Amaury held, making him bought and paid for. The second was fond of dream seed, so as soon as the Prince Bishop trained someone in the Order to do what dal Drezony had done with Barnot, the man would be little more than a puppet on a string. The third, well, despite himself, Amaury had always gotten on with him, and it would be useful to have one advisor who didn’t tell him only what he wanted to hear.
The king was still the king, but Amaury was now very much in control. There would be no more obstacles to his plans; he could bring about his intended future. All the same, there was a sickening twist of fear in his gut. Everyone would know he was the one making the decisions now. He was the one whom the assassins or the angry mobs would come for. If he didn’t find a way to make the Cup work the way he believed it could, everything he had worked for might all still come tumbling down around him.
Pharadon landed at the edge of the opening to the temple, where Gill and Solène were waiting for him. Gill shielded his eyes from the cloud of dust and grit raised by the dragon’s flight, then looked hopefully to see if the dragon had returned with the stolen Cup.
“I couldn’t find her,” he said. “There is no one for miles around, and I covered far more ground than she could have.”
“She can’t simply have disappeared,” Gill said.
“Yes she can,” Solène said. “If she can use a little magic, she could make herself all but invisible. Particularly at night. No one saw her in the temple save for that one Spurrier, and he said she was hard to see, even when he was looking right at her. If she’s one of the Prince Bishop’s agents, there’s a good chance she can use magic. If she was given a task this important, she’s probably pretty good.”
“Did you meet anyone of her description in the Order?” Gill said, hoping that they might at least know what she looked like.
Solène shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Gill let out a sigh, and looked out toward the moonlit horizon. “We have to go after her. At least we know where she’s headed.…”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Duncan M. Hamilton holds master’s degrees in history and law and has practiced as a barrister. He lives in Ireland, near the sea. Hamilton independently published his first trilogy, the Society of the Sword (The Tattered Banner, The Huntsman’s Amulet, and The Telastrian Song) and the Norse-inspired Wolf of the North trilogy, which were released in ebook and audio editions. Dragonslayer and Knight of the Silver Circle will be followed by Servant of the Crown.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
KNIGHT OF THE SILVER CIRCLE
Copyright © 2019 by Duncan M. Hamilton
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Richard Anderson
A Tor Book
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The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-30682-1 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-250-30681-4 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-30680-7 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250306807
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First Edition: November 2019