 |
DRAGON'S BISHOP PROLOGUE Prince Rand checked his polished riding boots and gig line, stamped up to the entrance to the king’s office, then knocked on the dreaded door. He had considered ignoring the summons, but forty years of obedience had conditioned him to obey. In his youth, being summoned to his father’s royal study had always been the precursor to discipline. Rand’s father still distorted his son’s attitudes so their meetings ended in anger. The king had never forgiven Rand for refusing to assume the throne. Rand knew his father thought he was a slacker. “Enter,” said King Erik. After Rand opened the door, he observed that his father sat in an overstuffed chair with a footstool instead of behind the desk, the position he normally used to intimidate his visitors. This seemed a more promising start. For the first time, Rand noticed that the king’s bald head made him look old, and his thickening middle added to his tired appearance. If this meeting led to a reconciliation, maybe a recliner like the one that Lealor’s great-grandfather used might be something Rand could give his father as a peace offering. His father gestured toward a straight-back chair. “I want to relay a conversation I had with your sister.” The hair on Rand’s neck rose in rage. He had spent a year as a bear in the weren rite of passage. When he became upset, Rand’s ursine aura flared into visibility. “I thought Silanna was out of my life forever, safely married to a Prince of Magilan.”
|
|
“Well, yes. They are pleased to have her since there are few with magical abilities in their kingdom.” The king sat up with his shoulders back as a sign it was time to get down to business. “How long have the weren serving at the battleline stayed in dragon shape?” Rand scowled. He thought, that’s right. Pay no attention to my concern about her meddling. His father always changed the subject abruptly if he was challenged, hoping to disconcert his son. Rand scowled. He thought, that’s right. Pay no attention to my concern about her meddling. His father always changed the subject abruptly if he was challenged, hoping to disconcert his son. For his part, Rand looked down on his father because he couldn’t shapeshift. The weren shapeshifters remained Rand’s subjects through his mother’s royalty. Why bring up the weren when his father knew how he felt? “Many have worn dragon form on Dead World for over five years. Why?” “One of the veterans chose to settle in Magilan after he changed back to human form. When Silanna summoned him to bring her up-to-date on what was happening in the war, she noticed something. She claims his body had only aged two years in dragon form instead of five.” How could she know? Rand thought. Still, his misguided sister was better than average in the field of magic. He couldn’t forgive her futile plot to prevent him from marrying Lealor, which almost cost Widdershins its existence. “I wouldn’t trust anything Silanna said. I suppose I could have Lealor check out the idea.” The old king’s face reddened in anger. “Can’t you do anything yourself? How can you call yourself the weren king if you don’t move without your wife’s blessing?” “Don’t start vilifying our relationship,” warned Rand. “Lealor’s the most qualified mage to find the truth of Silanna’s observation. Even the Shadowlord treats her as an equal.” “Why is she aging so fast then?” demanded the king. “She can’t even control her own body.” Rand laughed. “That’s a glamour to keep her advisors in line. They’re more comfortable when the queen’s age seems closer to theirs. I have first-hand experience that Lealor is still young.” A slight flush of embarrassment crept up Rand’s neck. Bright Ones in a bucket, he thought, I hope he doesn’t follow that statement to its logical conclusion. The king shifted the conversation again. “Silanna says Killeen, the Sidhe princess, is going to be spending more time on Widdershins. You know who I mean. Battle Leader Seren’s protégée who helped kill all those thousands of aliens on Dead World.” “Killeen is only his aide, not a force leader. Seren made her attend the University at Realmgate, which is at mid-semester now. She makes her summer home on Widdershins to be with her defacto grandparents.” Only Killeen could adopt grandparents, thought Rand. “How old is Killeen now?” The king leaned forward as if the answer really mattered to him. “I suppose she’s a teenager. The Sidhe are tall. Considering the way she dresses, most people think Killeen’s is about eighteen. Who knows? She always tries to appear older than she is.” Rand frowned. “I don’t understand. Why is this important?” “Silanna foresees a series of armed clashes between her and your son. As usual, you never finish anything. This time it’s Drak’s arms training. Killeen has already embarrassed Drak by beating him at sword play.” “I can’t help him. Drak has surpassed what I can teach him, which says something about Killeen’s ability.” “Or your lack of it,” his father grumbled. Rand ignored the slur. “Drak felt more intrigued than embarrassed about getting beaten by Killeen. I’ll see if I can find another armsman – maybe from Earth – to advance his skills. I don’t see the relevance of Silanna’s vision.” Rand realized the inevitability of fireworks between two people as volatile as his arrogant son and a female Sidhe warrior. He chuckled. The old biddies foresaw romance. “This is no laughing matter! Your son is in danger.” “Not from Killeen.” Rand rose to leave. He couldn’t resist a parting shot. “You’ve convinced me. If Silanna can’t understand Killeen’s and Drak’s future relationship, my sister is as demented as ever.” DRAGON'S BISHOP |
|