LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter 10

      Niryn stood on the battlements, enjoying the damp night air. Korin had gone up to Nalia’s tower again. As he watched, the light there was extinguished.

      “Labor well, my king,” Niryn whispered.

      He’d removed the blighting spell from Korin; the boy would father no monsters on Nalia. It was time at last, the time of Niryn’s choosing, for an heir of Skala to be conceived.

      “My lord?” Moriel appeared at his elbow, stealthy as always. “You look pleased about something.”

      “I am, dear boy.” This lad was proving useful, as well. For all his faults, that odious pederast, Orun, had groomed Muriel well, to sneak and spy and sell his loyalty. Niryn could well afford it, and knew better than to trust him too far. No, he had spells around young Moriel for that, and the boy would do well not to cross him.

      “Have you been keeping an eye on that new lord for me? The one who rode in yesterday?”

      “Duke Orman. Yes, my lord. He seems quite taken with the king. But Duke Syrus was complaining again, about how Korin shows no sign of marching on the usurper.”

      Moriel never referred to Tobin by name. There was bad blood there, and Tobin wasn’t the only Companion against whom Moriel harbored a grudge. “How is Lord Lutha faring?”

      “Sullen, and hanging about Lord Caliel, as usual. I caught them whispering together on the battlements again tonight. They don’t much like the way things are right now. They think you’ve led King Korin astray.”

      “I’m quite aware of that. What I need from you is proof of treason. Solid proof. Korin will not act on anything less.”

      The boy looked crestfallen. “Everyone has retired. Is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?”

      “No, you may go to bed. Oh, and Moriel?”

      The boy paused, his pale, harelike face uncertain.

      “You are proving most valuable. I depend on you, you know.”

      Moriel brightened noticeably. “Thank you. Good night, my lord.”

      Well, well, Niryn thought, watching him go. It seems you do have a heart to win. I thought Orun crushed that out of you long ago. How very useful.

      Niryn returned to his enjoyment of the night. The sky was clear, and the stars were so bright they turned the dark sky a deep indigo.

      The men he passed on guard greeted him respectfully. Many of them were his own Guard, and those who weren’t had the good sense to show him proper courtesy. Niryn had touched the minds of the various captains, and found most of them fertile ground, well sown with doubts and fears for him to manipulate. Even Master Porion’s had been surprisingly easy to slip into; his own stolid sense of duty to Korin did Niryn’s work for him. There was no need to meddle there.

      Niryn’s own master, Kandin, had taught him that the greatest talent of wizards of Niryn’s sort lay in their ability to see into lesser men’s hearts and prey on the weaknesses there. Korin’s flaws had been an open door to him, despite his burning dislike for the wizard. Niryn had simply bided his time, waiting for the seasons to turn. He took his first careful steps in the last year of the old king’s life, when Korin had already led himself astray with doubt, drink, and drabs.

      In the days after the old king’s death, when the prince was lost and foundering, Niryn seized the advantage and wormed his way just as securely into the heart of the boy as he had his father.

      Erius had not been so easy. The king had been an honorable man, and a strong one. Only when the madness began to eat away at his mind did Niryn find a foothold there.

      Korin, on the other hand, had always been weak and full of fears. Niryn used magic on the boy, but lately a few carefully chosen words and skillful flattery worked just as well. His beloved cousin’s betrayal could not have been better timed.

      Looking around the dark fortress, Niryn savored a swell of pride. This was his doing, just as the burning of the Illiorans and the banishing of countless headstrong nobles had been his work. He especially enjoyed bringing highborn lords and ladies down into the dust. He enjoyed being feared and cared not one whit how many hated him. Their hatred was the hallmark of his success.

      Niryn had not been born a nobleman. He was the only child of two palace servants. During his early days at court, certain people who’d considered themselves his betters had been anxious not to let him forget that, but once he’d caught favor with the king they’d soon learned not to cross the soft-spoken wizard. He took no direct action against them, of course, but Erius had been quick to show his displeasure. Some of Niryn’s early detractors now found themselves without title or lands—many of the latter having been since given to Niryn himself.

      Niryn did not regret his lowly birth; quite the opposite, in fact. Those early years had left an indelible mark on him and taught him some valuable lessons about how the world worked.

      His father had been a simple, taciturn man who’d married above himself. Born to a family of tanners, his marriage had allowed him to leave behind that malodorous trade and become one of Queen Agnalain’s gardeners. His mother had been a chambermaid in the Old Palace, often working in the rooms of the queen before Agnalain went mad.

      His parents lived in a tiny thatch-roofed cottage by the north gate. Each day his mother woke him while the stars were still out and they set off with his father up the long, steep road to the Palatine. They left their own humble quarter in darkness, and he could see the sky brightening as they ascended the steep streets. The houses grew larger and grander, the higher you went, and once inside the Palatine itself, it was like a great, magical garden. Elegant villas clustered around the walls and ringed the dark bulk of the Old Palace. There had been only one, back then, and it had been a lively place, filled with color and courtiers and good smells; it didn’t fall into disrepair until Erius had left it behind, after his mother’s death. The young prince could not abide the place after that, fearing his mother’s mad, vengeful ghost would come after him in the night. Years later, when Niryn had gained the young king’s trust and access to his inner thoughts, he learned why. Erius had killed his mother, smothering the mad old woman with a cushion after he learned that she’d signed

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