“And there is another thing. Our forefathers were only common men but they lived in this city and fought for it. The Captains are right to turn against this Prince. The die has been cast and there must be bloodshed. For the city’s welfare, for the common good, we must have a swift end to the struggle, not a long-drawn brawl that leaves us weakened.”
Peter said: “We follow you, sir.”
He bent his knee in the ceremonial bow that is made by a subject to his Prince. My father stared at him for a moment and then, smiling, clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“I am well defended! I had already decided what to say to Ezzard, but I shall do it with a lighter heart for that.”
“To Ezzard? Not to the Captains?”
“To Ezzard first.” He laughed. “We must give the Spirits time enough to prepare.”
• • •
I met Martin next morning by the Ruins. There were other ruined buildings in the city, where people had not thought it worthwhile to clear the ground and build again, but these were by far the greatest and, it could be seen, of one vast building. Once, out of curiosity, I had measured the length of the mound of stone and it was more than two hundred paces. It staggered the mind to think of what it must have been like before the Disaster. Of course our Ancestors, as we knew, had used powers of magic for which the Spirits at last had punished them: how else could so monstrous a thing have been erected? They had buried their dead in its shade—there were worn stones bearing names and dates set in the ground—and it was said the Christians had used it as a place of worship. That, too, was hard to believe when one thought of the Christians in the city, a handful of wretches living mostly in the hovels by the North Gate, so warped and degraded that they accepted polymufs as members of their sect and as equals. (They would have accepted dwarfs, too, but got no chance: dwarfs had their pride.)
Although no one now would be so foolish as to build in stone it was used in foundations, and from time to time men took loads from the Ruins for this purpose. In doing so paths had been made in toward the center, and one led to a place where there was a hole in the ground and stairs leading to a vast cavernous place underneath. Boys would occasionally dare one another to venture down and the dares were taken; but no one went far in or stayed long.
Nor would I have done so, on my own, but Martin wanted to and I was determined not to show fear in front of him. We had explored it together, finding strange things—figures of men and women, carved life-size in stone, mildewed robes and banners, a pile of small pieces of colored glass. We also found a door, almost hidden by a heap of collapsed masonry, leading to a small room, and on Martin’s urging we made a den there, furnishing it with a couple of wooden chairs we found in the outer part and taking in a stock of candles to give us light. It was cool in summer, warm in winter. We had sat and gossiped there through many a blank, wet day, private and secure from interruption. Martin, I knew, went down on his own as well, but I did not. And this morning I demurred at going down at all. It was not actually raining though the sky was a threatening gray. We stood and threw small stones at marks among the rubble. I was on edge, thinking of the Seance at noon and what might happen. I had not said anything to Martin, but he himself spoke of it.
I said, astonished: “How do you know that? It is supposed to be secret to the Captains.”
He smiled. “The news is running through the city like wildfire. That the Prince is to be deposed and your father made Prince in his place.”
Awkwardly, I said: “I’m sorry. I could not say anything. I was sworn to secrecy.”
He nodded. “I thought so.”
In his place, I knew, I would have been jealous and resentful because in the past we had kept no secrets from each other. But his mind was easier than mine, less given to brooding. I said:
“It may not happen like that, my father becoming Prince. So far it is only something suggested.”
“It will happen. Everyone is sure of it. I suppose I shall see less of you from now on.”
“I don’t see why.”
“As son of the Prince.”
“What difference does that make?”
“And the Prince in Waiting.”
This was the title given to the Prince’s heir, who normally would expect to be Prince after him. Edmund had not had it but his elder brother, Charles. I said:
“But even if my father is Prince, that will be Peter, not I.”
“Your mother will be Prince’s Lady, not his.”
“It is nothing to do with mothers. Peter is my father’s eldest son, therefore he will be Prince in Waiting. He must be.”
Martin shrugged. “That is not what people say. They say it was an omen, your winning the jeweled sword in the Contest.”
“Then they say nonsense!”
I spoke angrily but I was not sure what it was that made me angry. My mind was confused. A magpie flew down into the Ruins and I threw a stone at it but missed by yards. I turned away and walked toward the High Street. Martin followed me. We walked together but in silence.
• • •
It was always dark inside the Seance Hall, there being only a few small windows to give light from outside, but since the Spirits did not manifest themselves by day the curtains had not been drawn and one could see without the aid of lamps. Only the first few rows were occupied, since the summoning had been merely of Captains and their sons. Ezzard stood in front of us and above us, on the platform that was carpeted in black, surrounded on three sides by and canopied in black velvet. He wore his Seer’s robe of black silk, trimmed with white at cuffs and neck, and his white face stared down at us, sharp and deathlike.
He said: “The Spirits be with you.”
We muttered back: “And with you, Seer.”
“The Captains of this city,” Ezzard said, “have called for guidance to the Spirits, as their forefathers did before them, begging the Spirits to help and advise them in a time of need, in the distress of the city. As Seer I have consulted with the Spirits and they have made answer: he who was Prince . . .”
There was a noise in the doorway. Ezzard halted his speech. We all looked and saw Prince Stephen standing there, Charles and Edmund behind him. After a pause, Ezzard went on:
“He who was Prince shall be Prince no longer. Forsaking the city in fear he loses right to the city’s fealty . . .”
Prince Stephen interrupted him. He shouted:
“Ezzard, I left the city on your advice!” Ezzard watched him in silence. “On the warning of the Spirits, given through you.”
“No.”
“By the Great, it is true!” I heard his voice crack. “You told me . . .”
“I told you that the Spirits saw danger, to you and to your house. Anything more came from your own fears. And the Spirits spoke truly through me: the danger is here and now but your peril is of your own making, not due to the shivering of the earth.”
“You let me think . . .”
“The Seer counsels the Prince; he is not required to teach him self-control. Even if the danger had been of earthquakes, would not a true Prince have looked after his people instead of fleeing from the city in panic?”
It was a charge that could not be answered. Prince Stephen tried, floundering:
“You said the Captains would see to it . . .”
“And they have.” Ezzard looked away from him, to the Captains. “He who was Prince shall be Prince no longer. In his place the Spirits offer Captain Robert Perry for the approval of his peers. Does any man say no?”