Mageborn The Line of Illeniel, Michael Manning [best ebook reader for laptop txt] 📗

The good duke was reclining with his eyes closed, “James!” I yelled.

He looked up, “What?”

“The king wants us.”

“When?” he asked calmly.

“Now apparently,” I replied.

“Well damn. I should have expected this. Let’s go see how much better the day can get eh!?” He rose and knocked the wine bottle off the table in front of him. Luckily it was empty. I started to give him a hand but he waved me off. “Don’t worry lad, I can handle it.”

We followed the servant down the hall. Neither of us was that steady on our feet but we weren’t too far gone either. I gave us fifty-fifty odds of getting out of the king’s chambers without causing a major incident. I’ve always been optimistic.

We arrived at the king’s private reception room a few minutes later. A nod from our escort and the doorman let us in without a word. He didn’t follow us in. The room beyond the door was opulent, well-furnished without being ostentatious. It reflected the tastes of a man so powerful he did not need to flaunt his wealth. King Edward the First sat reading a dispatch in a comfortable chair across from the entrance to the room.

I had no idea what sort of etiquette was expected of me here, so I followed James’ example. We crossed the room partway and then bowed. Later I would learn that in more formal settings we were expected to go down on one knee, but here a simple bow was permissible, for nobility anyway. “You called for us your majesty?” I couldn’t detect any slurring in James’ voice. I hoped I did as well at covering it.

The king looked at us. He was an older man, in his sixties at least, balding and grey. He looked fit, for despite his age he seemed energetic and trim. Sharp grey eyes looked at us over his papers, “James, you old dog! Come have a seat, this isn’t a formal occasion.” He motioned to a couple of chairs not far from his own.

“Thank you, your majesty,” James took a seat. I moved to sit in the chair next to him.

“Young man, did I give you leave to sit in my presence!” Edward’s tone was sharp and it sent a chill up my spine.

“Er… my apologies your majesty!” I jumped up as if the seat had caught fire. I wasn’t sure if I should bow again or just stand. I looked at James for help.

King Edward burst out laughing. It was a good laugh and whatever had tickled him so nearly caused him to fall from his chair. “That never gets old!” he exclaimed. My confusion only got worse. “Come, come, young Illeniel, please sit! I was just having a laugh at your expense. You’ll forgive an old man for his small amusements won’t you?” The fog cleared and I realized I had played the fool. I flushed with embarrassment and sat down.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I didn’t trust myself to say more. The joke hardly seemed funny to me, especially given that I had no choice but to react as I had. I kept my observation to myself.

“It’s been a while since we had a chance to talk James,” Edward had already forgotten me.

“Yes your majesty, I haven’t been to Albamarl in a while,” he answered.

“Just Edward please, I’ve told you before that you can call me familiar in private,” the king told him.

“I remember, but I like to have the reminder before I fall prey to one of your jokes Edward.” James gave him a huge grin and they both fell to laughing again. I’m sure they both thought they were terribly funny.

“So what drives you to drink so early in the day my friend?” Edward asked.

“My damn son has decided to join the priesthood of the Evening Star.”

“Ah! I should have remembered that. You just heard the news I gather?” Edward’s face implied there was a story to be told.

“That’s all I’ve heard so far. Why, did something happen to him?”

“Your boy has become a saint apparently. He healed a man last week after he had been stabbed. Since then people have been dragging their sick to the temple of Millicenth in droves. The priests say that he has been chosen by the Lady of the Evening Star herself.”

“That’s nonsense! Marcus is no more pious than a stag in rut! He came to the city to find a wife and I’ve since heard he’s done nothing more than dip his wick in every available lady in the city! My only consolation is that he hasn’t taken to whoring. Why would the goddess choose him?” Needless to say I was flabbergasted to hear James speak so in front of the king.

“The gods choose who they will. Who are we to second guess them? This does present a particular advantage for you tomorrow though.” Edward didn’t seem overly concerned with the duke’s colorful use of language.

“How so?”

“I’m hearing Tremont’s case regarding his son’s death. Marcus will certainly be called to testify. Few would gainsay the word of one chosen by Millicenth.” The king smiled.

James still wasn’t pleased, “I don’t need something like that to clear the Lancaster name, hundreds of people saw what happened. Old Tremont should have just let things be, nothing but more bad blood will come of it.”

“He has lost both his sons, he may not be thinking clearly anymore. You were friends once, were you not?” That was news to me. Their conversation was proving to be very educational.

“Yes, when we were younger. He’s a good man. He just couldn’t stand the fact that Ginny chose me over him, a silly reason to be angry really.” By Ginny he was referring to his wife, Genevieve Lancaster. Although she was hardly an old woman the thought of Genevieve as a young lady with two noblemen fighting over her was a startling revelation for me.

Edward chuckled, “It only seems a silly reason to the victor. His current wife is mad as a hatter and