Trapped, page 5
part #3 of Treason and Truth Series
“Who now can speak of it but us, Bets? Who would even think it worthy of notice? Have I not made my own life?”
She sighed. “Yes. Maybe no-one will speak of it but as you’ve just agreed to teach Prince Tain, there are likely others who will feel jealous or aggrieved.”
He took another sip of whiskey and lapsed into the silence he was so good at. Did he want to face the jealousies of his colleagues? Did he want to carry the burden of the past to an unknown future? Prince Tain would be his pupil for three years, and it was likely he’d be a mentor for a few more after that. True, Lord Scanlon had ignored Judge Fairson from the moment he had taken the Justiciar’s Oath in the Justice Hall, but not all princes treated their tutors with such little regard.
Chapter 8
PASSING COMMENTS
Hexadai, Week 48 – 27th Lufial, 20th Lufis 1211
Law School – Provost’s Office
TWO DAYS BEFORE THE MUNEWID, with reports and marks having been given to the students, Lord Ryson looked up as his secretary announced Lord Para. Ryson smiled grimly at his peer. Para’s long face didn’t speak of contentment. Presumably he hadn’t got any joy from the King.
“What can I do for you?” asked Ryson after the door closed.
“Pass my son.”
Direct, to the point and as expected. “I’m sorry, Para, but the rules are quite clear. Lord Kenelm has failed his second year. The mock trial was an exam. Unusual though it was, it tested the knowledge and deportment of our students. His Honour felt your son did not merit a pass. I cannot change that as I wasn’t present.”
“No. We all know who was though.”
“Yes. I’ve heard several accounts of what occurred—”
“My son apologised to His Highness!”
“I wasn’t referring to that incident. I was referring to the fact that Kenelm lounged in his seat, sneering at proceedings. The school’s rules are clear. Proper deportment is expected at all times. Lord Kenelm is not someone who can claim ignorance of etiquette—”
Para leaned heavily on Ryson’s desk. “I could tell the world about your dirty little secrets. I can’t think the King would like to know of your proclivities.”
“His Majesty has been aware of my proclivities since one of my lovers was blackmailed over our relationship some years ago. I don’t think you’ll get any joy by trying to extort cooperation, Para. I’m a lawyer. I’ll happily have you in court for it.”
“I’d never be convicted,” spat Para.
Ryson shrugged. “No, but your reputation would be ruined. What you have forgotten in your haste to bully me is that I have nothing to lose. Every other Lord of Oedran has more standing than I do, in one camp or another. None of the FitzAlcis trust me. That won’t change even were I able to ignore the school’s rules and pass your wastrel son. I have no family left for you or anyone else to threaten. Caving into your demands won’t buy me favour with the King – quite the reverse – and I don’t ever want favour from Lord Scanlon—”
“You were stupid to turn your back on him.”
“That is a matter of opinion. Are you so enamoured of his methods?”
“They’re needed. Everyone is becoming far too soft. King Altarius would have ordered you to pass my son.”
Amused, Ryson said, “Were you that close to His Late Majesty? I never witnessed it. Judge Tancred, on the other hand, had the ear of Prince Lachlan and, from what I witnessed, was respected by King Altarius. Ah, yes, there’s the door. Do use it.”
The slam of wood reverberated around the room. Ryson smiled, contented.
* * *
Para entered the Palace chuntering to himself. What was the point of being a Lord of Oedran if a cisan-born judge could get the better of you? He entered Court. There was only one route left open to him now to save face. Did he want to take it? Owing favours was far more troublesome than misusing people’s secrets. He wandered through Court oblivious of everything. Eventually, he found his son in a private room drinking with Chander Teran. Two moments later, father and son were alone.
“Getting drunk won’t help!”
“I leave that to Julius,” retorted Kenelm. “So?”
Para poured himself a drink from the jugs on a sideboard, cursing. “The King won’t order Ryson and Ryson won’t change the mark. Were you really lounging and sneering?”
Kenelm hesitated. “It was so humiliating, father. We were playing parts as though we were little kids. Tain’s a child, yet he was sitting at the bar—”
“Prince Tain will be fifteen in three years! He’ll be the Justiciar of Oedran and you’d be wise to remember that and not risk our family’s fortunes. We need to be careful—”
“Do we? Our side has strength. What has the other but weaklings?”
“The crown, the empire and the army. Not to mention, the General, most governors and apparently some important judges. You also know more than is good for you.” Para slammed his goblet down, wine fountaining like blood against his white tunic. “Forget it all.” Para cursed. He’d have to change before he went anywhere else. There were spare tunics at the Palace but they didn’t have the careful tailoring of his own.
“I’m not telling anyone,” remonstrated Kenelm. “Lord Scanlon might have more influence than his absences suggest, but he doesn’t have people where he needs them. It’s fine having people at Court but who controls who’s here?”
“Hmm, let me think, the FitzAlcis?”
Languidly sipping his wine, Kenelm said, “Presiding lords, the Steward, even the guards to some extent. If the guards aren’t on our side, we’re in trouble.”
Para’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t pass your exams, you’re in trouble. You know full well why he wanted you at the Law School. Do you want to explain?”
“Not particularly. Look, the Law School is useless. You don’t need lawyers. You need judges.”
“Yes, and, for that, we need more lawyers to promote.”
“So, buy them,” retorted his son, dark eyes flashing. “I don’t see why I must make an impression to get us more men on side. It’ll probably do the opposite. In three years, people won’t stand on principles. They didn’t when Lord Scanlon took over. They cowered and converted to his methods. To keep their jobs, they’ll do the same for Tain and I won’t crawl to him. He’s not going to forget the mock trial. It’ll always be between us—”
“Ah, you’ve realised! Your actions now matter.”
“Yeah. Well. The law’s boring. Maybe the army would be better.”
“No,” snapped his father. “We’re putting Chander into the next available captaincy we can. If Lord Scanlon can’t persuade Ryson and you move to the Advisors’ School, you will have to get your head down. We might be able to persuade the Dean to put you in at second year but that’s all.”
“Fine. Though the first might be better. I can spy on Julius and Irvin then.”
“Leave the Iris family alone,” said Para. “Others are working on them.”
Kenelm leaned forward. “Who?”
“Never you mind. Now, stop idling in here. Get working through Court. Your sister is doing a good job even without knowing why. Don’t let her get the better of you.”
Kenelm smirked. “She won’t. When’s His Greatness due back in Oedran?”
“Soon,” replied his father dismissively.
Chapter 9
CROSSING A LINE
Alunadai, Week 1 – 1st Cearal, 1st Cearcis 1212
Inner Office
AS THE FIRST DAY OF 1212 dawned, most people were recovering from the Munewid festivities the night before, or deep in slumber. Judge Tancred presented himself at the Outer Office and asked for an audience with the King. Richardson announced him almost immediately. The judge entered the Inner Office soberly and, seeing his mood, Adeone requested Advisor Rayburn leave. Tancred apologised as the military advisor departed.
Adeone relaxed when the door closed. “Why so serious, James?”
“I am about to disappoint Your Majesty.”
Adeone got up from his chair. “I doubt that. Come and have a drink and tell me why you think you’re about to disappoint me.”
Tancred sighed; sometimes the King could be too kind. Sitting down, he accepted a brandy. “Your Majesty may have to find someone else to teach His Highness – at least to begin with. The gentleman who was to take over my duties at the Law School has died. Lord Ryson was not going to tell me. My son did so. They can find someone else for most of the lectures. My son is taking over some, but His Lordship is finding it difficult to locate a lecturer for historical law.”
The King said, “You are, perhaps, feeling that your skills would be better used at the Law School, instead of teaching your future Justiciar?”
Unable to read Adeone’s mood, Tancred was honest. “Not exactly, Sire. I feel that I have left them with few options. The other reason is rather more personal; it is to do with Ceardlann. I… It is hard to explain. You were kind enough not to rescind my permission to visit the Rex Dallin on Prince Lachlan’s death – but the last time I spoke to him I promised I would not enter the valley again after scattering his ashes. I would prefer it if the last time I went was the one where I said goodbye to him. I cannot teach Prince Tain here in Oedran. I should have realised I would have to go to the Rex Dallin before today, but I did not, Sire. I am truly sorry for the upset this is going to cause.”
Adeone steepled his fingers, thinking. After a few moments, he said, “As I want you to teach my son, I don’t accept your resignation. Will you see if we can make it work? I’m sure Tain will like to hear he might have to come to Oedran more often and not have his tutor living in the same house.”
Startled by Adeone’s certainty, Tancred enquired, “Is Your Majesty sure we can make this work? I would have thought it awkward.”
Adeone smiled. “Are you willing to try? There may be advantages. You could still preside in courts as well as teach at the Law School.”
“I shall try, if Your Majesty is sure.”
“I am. You are the tutor my son needs.”
“Then how can I deny my King?”
Adeone crooked an eyebrow. “Prince Arkyn or Lord Landis would say a ‘no’ would suffice. Thank you for yielding to persuasion. I’m finding it hard to trust people with my sons’ welfare.”
“I could do no other, Sire.”
“James, I might have had to be forthright with Lord Para, but I don’t need you to highlight my position.”
Tancred chuckled. “My apologies, sir.” He sobered. “I presume His Lordship was unhappy with my decision at the mock trial.”
“You could say that. He marched in here in high dudgeon. I told him I had no rights over whom the school took or whom it chose to fail. He stormed out in even higher dudgeon and, I believe, is planning to talk to Lord Scanlon. Though, I think, Kenelm has said he won’t continue with his law education with a failed year.”
Tancred nodded. “Even if Lord Scanlon told me to pass Lord Kenelm I would refuse; he would make the worst sort of lawyer, Sire. I will not pass someone merely because he is the heir to an Oedranian Lordship.”
“Good. I don’t want mollycoddled lords. I want ones who can think. It might prove a challenge in itself. Their entitlement is extraordinary. I spend more time than I like to think about sorting out their squabbles or pandering to their prejudices.”
Lips twitching, Tancred said, “I ought not to keep you from your work, Sire. I fear I have already caused complete confusion.”
“It keeps Richardson busy. You know you’re always welcome. In fact…” Adeone got up and rang for his administrator and requested the scroll of King’s Token holders.
When Richardson returned, Adeone wrote Tancred’s name on a token and sealed the small scroll with gold wax before appending the judge’s name to the master scroll. It was only the third the King had issued in seven years. The other two had been gifts of King Altarius and never rescinded.
“This should make your life easier, James. Keep it safe. You’re aware my office can check it and that, if you produce it, they must let you in to see me. That, I think, is all you have to be told. After all, you know the laws governing their use.”
Astounded, Tancred accepted the token. Speechless, he studied the King’s face.
Adeone chuckled. “I mean everything it implies and am wondering what has taken me so long to give you one. Prince Tain will be in Oedran for a couple more weeks. After the Petitionals have finished in two days’ time, I will give thought to how we can overcome the issue of Ceardlann.”
Tancred left, still stunned. Adeone handed Richardson the master scroll, enjoying the memory of Tancred’s face. No matter how long the judge would live, he’d never become used to the fact that the King accepted him as a friend.
* * *
Unthinking of where he was going, Tancred walked aimlessly through the Palace. Bemused by events, he let his feet decide the route. A guard held a door open for him and he found himself in the sunshine at the western end of the palace. The air, carrying the vying scents of city and garden, helped revive him. Shaking his head to clear the preoccupation, he saw he was in a relatively private area of the grounds, between the front of the Privy Wing – housing the FitzAlcis’ private apartments – and the palace wall. He’d left the building by the path that led to the Privy Gate. He would have to walk through the grounds – the Privy Gate was not one he would use unless accompanying the FitzAlcis. He doubted the guards would even let him. No, that was wrong. With a King’s Token they would. He glanced up at the windows of the Inner Office, then at the tightly furled scroll in his hand. There was so much meaning in something so fragile and small.
Prince Lachlan had taken him to see Adeone when the King was barely a week old. Lachlan had been proud of Adeone, proud and relieved that his brother had a direct heir again. Adeone had been a cheerful baby and a lively child until he was nine.
All too clearly, Tancred recalled Prince Lachlan summoning him that fateful day. Queen Eliza had died in childbirth. King Altarius had collapsed. Prince Lachlan as Regent was asking him, Tancred, to take the news to Ceardlann. To take the news his mother had died to a child whose world shattered.
The Comptroller had broken the news to Adeone, but Tancred had not left. He had stayed, trying to help, though, for years, he felt he had failed. Adeone had sunk into a depression, and it had been others who had turned the then Prince’s mind away from the bereavement. After a time, Tancred had realised others were better placed to help and so he had left for Oedran.
The mood in the city had been sombre for many months. Eliza had been a merchant’s daughter and had felt that much closer because of it. King Altarius was distraught and Prince Lachlan had taken so much on himself that his private life fell to pieces.
Feeling inadequate, all Tancred could do was watch. He had suffered loss and bereavement within his own life and knew how it could affect people; the knowledge – and, in some part, empathy – had been marred by the feeling Adeone shouldn’t have been left at Ceardlann to suffer it alone. He’d visited on a couple of occasions to try to let the young Prince know he wasn’t forgotten.
Eventually, Altarius had let Adeone return to Oedran to meet his brother, Scanlon, and to resume his life and lessons, but the joy had left Adeone. Over the following months and years, he would often seek out Prince Lachlan in the evenings. Tancred, as a friend – and as a member of Prince Lachlan’s staff, and then a judge – was often there. It was in Lachlan’s chambers they had talked and debated, turning the reticence of youth and age into understanding and friendship. The love of life re-entered Adeone; his mischievous streak carefully encouraged by Prince Lachlan. Even after Adeone became friends with Landis, he would spend evenings with his uncle, preferring his company to many of his own age.
Since Adeone had become King, Tancred had advised him many times when specifics rather than generalisations were required. That should have been Lord Scanlon’s job, but, as he was never in Oedran, someone had had to do it. Would Adeone have consulted Scanlon even had he been there? Tancred did not know. There was no love lost between the brothers. Had resentment been born when Queen Eliza died? Maybe. Whatever the start of the problem, it was now Lord Scanlon who inflamed it.
Did Prince Tain know of the situation? Tancred would have to ask. It would not do for him to let slip that the Justiciar wanted to murder the Prince if Tain didn’t already know.
* * *
He was still contemplating the issue when Tain and Elantha tore around the corner. He bowed slightly as Tain slowed up.
“Good afternoon, Your Honour,” said the Prince carefully.
“Happy Birthday, Your Highness.”
Tain grinned. “Thank you. I thought you were going to tell me off for not having a guard.”
Tancred smiled. “I am only going to be teaching Your Highness the law. Common sense could be considered your own affair. Though now you mention it, where have you left your guard? It would be wise not to stray too far.”
Tain shuffled his feet. “I know, but he was too slow to keep up. He’ll be annoyed with me now.”
Tancred was troubled. “I am sure he is concerned solely for Your Highness’ safety.”
Panting, the guard appeared and spotted Tain. “You mustn’t run off! The trouble—”
Tancred cut across him. “Guard, modify your tone! You do not use the word must to princes.”
“I’m afraid, sir, I have my orders directly from the King.”
Tancred, hands clasped behind his back, considered the guard. “Your Highness, if you have no objection, I would speak with your guard alone.”
Tain smiled. “None whatsoever, Your Honour.”
“If you could wait within sight, sir, I can accompany you to your destination in a moment, if you wish me to.”
Playing an impeccably well-behaved prince, Tain said, “Certainly, Judge.”
Once Tain and Elantha moved away, the judge eyed the guard. “I am sure the King would have been interested to see and hear the manner in which you correct His Highness’ spirit.”
