The Summer Tree

“Exactly. I think only Metran knows I went for five—and I never promised him so many, in any case. Dave will be found, I promise you that. Can I ask you to keep his presence a secret for this time?”

Je

In a life shaped of careful decisions, the only impulsive act of significance had been the begi

Paul Schafer was speaking, answering the mage. “It seems,” he said softly—they were all speaking quietly—“that if you brought us here, then we’re already a part of your group, or we’ll be seen that way anyhow. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Kevin was nodding, and then Kim. Je

“Company!” Matt growled from the doorway.

“Ailell? Already? It can’t be,” said Loren.

Matt listened for a moment longer. “No… not the King. I think…” and his dark, bearded face twisted into its version of a smile. “Listen for yourself,” the Dwarf said.

A second later Kevin heard it, too: the unsteady caroling of someone coming down the hallway towards them, someone far gone in drink:

Those who rode that night with Revor

Did a deed to last forever…

The Weaver cut from brighter cloth

Those who rode through Daniloth!

“You fat buffoon!” another voice snarled, rather more controlled. “Shut up or you’ll have him disinherited for bringing you in here.” The sardonic laughter of a third person could be heard, as the footsteps made their tenuous way up the corridor.

“Song,” the aggrieved troubadour said, “is a gift to men from the immortal gods.”

“Not the way you sing, Tegid,” his critic snapped. Loren was suppressing a smile, Kim saw. Kevin snorted with laughter.

“Shipyard lout,” the one called Tegid retorted, not quietly. “You betray your ignorance. Those who were there will never forget my singing that night in the Great Hall at Seresh. I had them weeping, I had—”

“I was there, you clown! I was sitting beside you. And I’ve still got stains on my green doublet from when they started throwing fruit at you.”

“Poltroons! What can you expect in Seresh? But the battle after, the brave fight in that same hall! Even though wounded, I rallied our—”

“Wounded?” Hilarity and exasperation vied for mastery in the other speaker’s voice. “A tomato in the eye is hardly—”

“Hold it, Coll.” The third man spoke for the first tune. And in the room Loren and Matt exchanged a glance. “There’s a guard just ahead,” the light, controlling voice went on. “I’ll deal with him. Wait for a minute after I go in, then take Tegid to the last room on the left. And keep him quiet, or by the river blood of Lisen, I will be disinherited.”

Matt stepped quickly into the hallway. “Good even, Prince.” He raised his dagger in salute. A vein of blue glittered in the light. “There is no guard here now. He has gone to bring your father—Silvercloak has just returned with four people who have crossed. You had best move Tegid to a safe place very fast.”

“Sören? Welcome home,” said the Prince, walking forward. “Coll, take him quickly.”

“Quickly?” Tegid expostulated. “Great Tegid moves at his own pace. He deigns not to hide from minions and vassals. He confronts them with naked steel of Rhoden and the prodigious armor of his wrath. He—”

“Tegid,” the Prince said with extreme softness, “move now, and sharply, or I will have you stuffed through a window and dropped to the courtyard. Prodigiously.”

There was a silence. “Yes, my lord,” the reply came, surprisingly meek. As they moved past the doorway Kim caught a glimpse of an enormously fat man, and another, muscled but seeming small beside him, before a third figure appeared in the entranceway, haloed by the wall torch in the corridor. Diarmuid, she had time to remember. They call him Diarmuid. The younger son.

And then she found herself staring.

All his life Diarmuid dan Ailell had been doing that to people. Supporting himself with a beringed hand upon the wall, he leaned lazily in the doorway and accepted Loren’s bow, surveying them all. Kim, after a moment, was able to isolate some of the qualities: the lean, graceful build, high cheekbones in an over-refined face, a wide, expressive mouth, registering languid amusement just then, the jewelled hands, and the eyes… the cynical, mocking expression in the very blue eyes of the King’s Heir in the High Kingdom. It was hard to judge his age; close to her own, she guessed.

“Thank you, Silvercloak,” he said. “A timely return and a timely warning.”

“It is folly to defy your father for Tegid,” Loren began. “It is a matter far too trivial—”

Diarmuid laughed. “Advising me again? Already? A crossing hasn’t changed you, Loren. There are reasons, there are reasons…”he murmured vaguely.

“I doubt it,” the mage replied. “Other than perversity and South Keep wine.”

“Good reasons, both,” Diarmuid agreed, flashing a smile. “Who,” he said, in a very different tone, “have you brought for Metran to parade tomorrow?” Loren, seemingly used to this, made the introductions gravely. Kevin, named first, bowed formally. Paul followed suit, keeping his eyes on those of the Prince. Kim merely nodded. And Je

“A peach!” exclaimed Diarmuid dan Ailell. “Silvercloak, you have brought me a peach to nibble.” He moved forward then, the jewellery at wrist and throat catching the torchlight, and, taking Je

Je

“Are you always this rude?” she asked. And there was no warmth in the voice at all, or in the green eyes. It stopped him for an instant only. “Almost always,” he answered affably. “I do have some redeeming qualities, though I can never remember what they’re supposed to be. I’ll wager,” he went on, in a swift change of mood, “that Loren is shaking his head behind my back right now in tragic disapproval.” Which happened to be true. “Ah well, then,” he continued, turning to look at the frowning mage, “I suppose I’m expected to apologize now?”

He gri

Loren cut in sharply. “You are behaving badly, Diarmuid, and you know it.”

“Enough!” the Prince snapped. “Don’t push me, Loren.” The two men exchanged a tense look.

When Diarmuid spoke again, though, it was in a milder tone. “I did apologize, Loren, do me some justice.” After a moment, the mage nodded.

“Fair enough,” he said. “We don’t have time to quarrel, in any case. I need your help. Two things. A svart attacked us in the world from which I brought these people. It followed Matt and me, and it was wearing a vellin stone.”