The prince lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “My father defeated yours on the field of battle—a battle for which Kalches itself pressed. Do you then claim a right to vengeance for the fortunes of war?”
“The fortunes of war, do you say? That was a war forced on us—should we not wish to reclaim lands properly ours, wrested from us by unwarranted Seriantes belligerence?” Taudde caught himself and went on more moderately, “But even so, my father’s death was, as you say, a result of his defeat in combat. I was wrong to strike at you in vengeance for his death, and I beg your pardon for the harm I tried to do you.”
A little to Taudde’s surprise, the prince did not cast this apology back in his face, but answered, “I swore in the dragon’s chamber I would forgive the attempt. But I forgive it now because I believe you are sincere in your apology.”
Taudde bowed his head, finding to his surprise that this actually mattered to him. He had known for some time that he wished the prince no ill, but he hadn’t realized until this moment that he actually cared for Tepres’s good opinion.
“I admit, your professed repentance still puzzles me,” observed Geriodde Nerenne ken Seriantes, recalling Taudde’s attention. At his gesture, one of the black-clad guards brought the king a chair. He sank down into it, making it instantly a throne. Then he steepled his hands and gazed at Taudde over the tips of his fingers. “I do not understand, now less than ever, why you chose, in the dark beneath the mountain, to oppose Ankennes and defend my son.” The king put a faint stress on the my.
Taudde tried to think how to put an answer. He said at last, looking at the prince, “It was not so much a Seriantes I defended, but a man of whom I knew no ill and to whom I owed an act of contrition. Owed it twice over.”
Prince Tepres gave a very small nod.
Taudde turned to the king and went on, “You would say, no doubt, that with the treaty set to run out so soon, any Kalchesene should surely strive to ensure disorder in Lirionne. But… eminence, in that case I should have struck at you. Not at your son. I was a fool to be misled into striking at Prince Tepres by dreams of personal vengeance. When I realized how great a fool I had been, should I have compounded the foolishness?
“Under the mountain, it became clear that Miennes—Lord Miennes—had never been important. That Mage Ankennes had ruled the conspiracy and was far more dangerous. I could not see everything that would follow if the dragon was destroyed. But I believed Ankennes wrong in his intention.”
“I think he was,” agreed the king, quietly. “His treachery was evidently both constant and thorough. I believe now that he was also responsible for… pressing my elder sons toward… the dark paths they chose.” He glanced at Prince Tepres, who returned his look steadily. Then he turned back to Taudde. “I will own that you protected this remaining son of my wife. Even in this year, and this season.” The king lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “I continue to find this remarkable, Kalchesene. Young Lariodde.”
Taudde hesitated, searching for words. At last he said, “I came to Lonne to listen to the music of the sea. And I have listened to it. I have listened to the music of Lonne as well, so entwined with the sea, for the songs of the sea are clearest where the waves come against the shore. The dragon… your dragon was a surprise to me. But I think now that the dragon’s heartbeat lies at the foundation of all the music I have heard here, and what I heard in that cavern is not what Ankennes apparently heard. I heard a balanced rhythm—powerful, yes; dangerous, without doubt—but with nothing of wickedness or corruption about it. I confess I have no love for the Seriantes line. But I said I believed Ankennes wrong, and I did. Do. Wrong in everything.”
“You take a great deal on yourself, to make such a sweeping judgment. Are you swayed merely by enmity?”
Taudde drew a breath and tried to find words. “Ankennes was, I suspect, possibly brilliant. But deeply mistaken. I believe he had developed an edifice of theory. I think that this theory became all he saw. I perceived nothing of the corruption in which he believed so passionately, and for which he was willing to bring down Lonne.” Taudde hesitated, then added, “You may suspect me of arrogance, but if you will permit me to say so, eminence, I am not the least skilled of Kalchesene sorcerers.”
The king lifted an ironic eyebrow. “From what I observed of you in the dragon’s chamber, I do not doubt it. Were all Kalchesene sorcerers so powerful, I should greatly fear Kalches. I suspect you are fortunately exceptional.”
Anything Taudde answered to that would be either presumptuous or insolent. He said nothing.