Taudde, judging that the prince did not care for a fulsome show, acceded to this suggestion with restrained gratification.
Mage Ankennes, naturally, declared that he would certainly attend. The tutor begged to be excused on the grounds of a prior engagement. Jeres Geliadde scowled and said nothing, but once the prince had granted his approval, his young companions all seemed genuinely pleased by the plan.
Miennes gave Taudde a look of heavy satisfaction. Later, when the gathering dispersed, he held Taudde back with a glance. Mage Ankennes, too, lingered while the younger men and the prince’s tutor departed. “You understand what you are to do? You have sufficient skill?” Miennes said to Taudde once they were safely away. “I fear it will not be easy. The heir does not trust lightly.”
Taudde inclined his head in acknowledgment. “His trust, fortunately, is not specifically required for his death by sorcery. I presume that is what you want from me?” He waited, curious to see whether Miennes, consummate courtier that he undoubtedly was, would be willing to confirm so bald a statement.
The Lonne lord in fact hesitated. But Mage Ankennes said, unsmiling, “Of course. You are young, but surely your… uncle… would not have sent an incapable man to Lonne on his behalf. You are indeed capable?”
Taudde looked at the mage with dislike. He answered deliberately, “Despite my youth, you may accept my assurance that I am not unskilled. My grandfather began teaching me bardic sorcery hardly later than my grandmother began teaching me to talk.” This was true, but Taudde meant the strong undertones of arrogance he laid beneath his words to disguise the extent of that truth. He thought this strategy worked to deceive Miennes, but Ankennes… he thought Ankennes might have heard the truth Taudde had meant to conceal. Taudde saw the covetousness behind the mage’s opaque eyes. He would not allow himself to flinch, but he had to suppress a shudder.
“Well, skill and strength are exactly what one would expect in a young man sent here in this season,” Miennes said, slyly pleased. “And was our aim indeed your own, first? You must have had some such aim, I should think, to enter Lonne on the eve of the coming solstice.”
“It was not,” Taudde said, and continued smoothly, “Though I should hardly object to your immediate goal, to be sure. I might wonder what purpose you have, however, in sowing confusion and disorder in Lonne… on the very eve, as you say, of the solstice.”
Lord Miennes only smiled. “My young friend, you needn’t concern yourself with our motives. I assure you, they are sufficient.”
Taudde inclined his head. He wondered whether Miennes might be so close to the throne he thought he might seize power himself. More likely he was closely attached to one of the left-hand princes. Or possibly Lord Miennes meant to sow disorder in order to quell it and thus gain the favor of the people, or the king, or both. He might be inclined toward such subtle maneuvers.
Taudde certainly assumed the lord meant to use the heir’s death, in one way or another, to gain power in Lonne. What Mage Ankennes hoped to gain was much less clear. His goal seemed unlikely to be simple political power.
He said, keeping his tone calm and flat, “Well, I care little enough, to be sure, and I must confess that your goal pleases me. Save, of course, that it seems quite likely you mean to use me to lay the blame for the prince’s death on Kalches. I am not so certain that pleases me.”
“Indeed, you mistake us!” Miennes exclaimed. His smile widened. “No, no, my friend! Far better if no one knows the manner in which the prince comes to his, ah, fate. Indeed, far better!”
Taudde, looking steadily at Mage Ankennes, made a noncommittal sound. He already guessed that Miennes wanted to keep his new pet bardic sorcerer for future use, not spend him all at once. But he wanted the mage to speak. Almost anything would do: a protest, a reassurance, even a threat. It was the deep-buried undertones of his voice Taudde wanted to hear. He doubted even an accomplished mage of Lonne would understand how his voice might reveal deceit and offer hints of his true intentions.
“We do not wish to prompt a wide outcry,” said the mage, responding to Taudde’s silent pressure. “Nor to encourage violent reprisals against anyone. We wish merely to end the dominance of the Seriantes line. The quiet death of the Dragon’s last remaining legitimate son should achieve this aim. What replaces Seriantes power hardly seems your concern.”
“Save that, I assure you, young man, we have no interest in furious acquisitions to the north!” Lord Miennes added. “A waste of gold and blood and time, all far better invested elsewhere! Indeed, the attitudes of Miskiannes have much to recommend them!”