• Chapter Twenty-Seven •
Intervention

THE HORSES PANTED.

Riders urged them on and prayed their mounts would hold out for one more day. Jimmy had put them on a punishing regimen, from dawn to dusk, with the shortest breaks possible. The horses were all exhibiting the results of the forced march, ribs beginning to show where not so many days before they had been sleek and comfortably fat.

Six horses had come up lame, and those riders had been forced to drop out, walking their animals back to Port Vykor or following after, hoping there would be a Kingdom army waiting when they at last got there. Two animals had been so badly injured they had been put down.

The troop was within minutes of being in sight of Krondor, and Jimmy prayed again that he was wrong in his surmise, and they would find the city peacefully going about its business. He would gladly accept the years of jests and taunts he would endure as a result should that be the case, but he knew in the pit of his stomach he was about to run headlong into a fight.

Jimmy crested a rise and saw a baggage train before him. Most of the baggage handlers were boys, but a few guards stood ready to defend the Keshian supplies. Jimmy shouted, “Don’t kill the boys!” and then pulled his sword. The baggage boys scattered, but the Keshian Dog Soldiers guarding the baggage train stood firm, and the battle was on.

Dash raced along the walls as the Keshians began their assault. The Keshian herald had been polite in his contempt, a quality Dash would have found more admirable had he not been in a nearly murderous rage over Trina’s death. It had taken all the self-control he could manage to not grab a bow and take the herald out of his saddle when he came for the third time, demanding the surrender of the city.

Patrick was back in his castle, under guard against another attack by agents of Kesh. Dash put aside the sinking feeling in his stomach that, if they should somehow survive the assault on the city, it would be a search of tedious proportions to uncover all the agents of Kesh.

Trumpets sounded and war horns blew, and the Keshian infantry marched forward. In files of ten men, they carried ladders. Dash could hardly believe they’d assault first with scaling ladders, without heavy machines or a turtle to protect the men. Then a hundred bowmen rode into view, and Dash called out, “Get ready to duck!”

A horn sounded and the men with the ladders broke into a run, while the horse archers spurred their mounts forward, between them. The horsemen unleashed a barrage of arrows, and Dash hoped all his men had heard the warning to duck. A clattering of arrows against stones and shields and the absence of more than a few oaths and screams told him most had understood. Then his own bowmen rose up and delivered a withering fire down on those below the wall. Dash crouched down behind a merlon and said, “Pass the word: target those with the ladders. Worry about the archers later.”

The soldiers on both sides passed the word, and Krondorian archers jumped up and fired at the ladder-bearers. They ducked as another round of arrows flew at the walls. Dash duck-walked to the rear of the rampart and called down to one of his constables, “Keep the patrols active. They may still be trying to get in through the sewers.”

The constable ran off and Dash returned to his place on the wall. A palace guardsman ran over and said, “We found the spy, sir.”

“Who was it?”

“Another clerk. Man name of Ammes. He just walked into the squad room and told us you’d ordered every man to the gate.”

“Where is he?”

“Dead,” said the guardsman. “He was one of those trying to seize the South Palace Gate, and he died during the fighting.”

Dash nodded, making a mental note to make sure no palace servant or functionary stayed in place without a thorough investigation. The period when the Prince had resided in Darkmoor and Dash had overseen the transition from Duko’s rule to Patrick’s return had been too lax. Malar and other agents had easily insinuated themselves into the palace.

Which also meant Kesh had plans for this offensive long before the truce at Darkmoor last year.

Dash kept his rage bottled up, his frustration and anger at Trina’s death and the assault on the city. He vowed that should Keshians come over the wall, he would personally kill more of the enemy than any man defending the city.

And should the city endure, he would see that his promise to Trina was not made in vain.

They landed in a clearing a few miles from the city. Pug staggered as he got off the dragon’s back and sat down on the grass.

Miranda sat next to her husband and said, “Are you all right?”

Pug said, “My mind is still swimming.”

Tomas said, “Where to next?”

“Many places,” said Nakor. “And not all of us together.” To Tomas he said, “Why don’t you have your friend fly you home to your wife? There is still much work to be done, but you can return home knowing you’ve saved Elvandar and its inhabitants from problems for the near future.”

“I would like to hear a few things first,” said Tomas.

“Yes,” said Miranda. “What was that creature?”

“I have no knowledge of anything like him,” said Tomas. “And the memories I inherited from Ashen-Shugar are extensive.”

“That’s because no Valheru ever encountered anything like Zaltais,” said Nakor, sitting on the grass next to Pug. “Mostly because he was not a creature.”

“Not a creature?” asked Miranda. “Could you attempt to just explain without the usual convolution?”

Nakor smiled. “Right now you remind me of your mother, the good parts.”

“There were good parts?” said Miranda with thinly veiled contempt.

In the most wistful tone anyone had ever heard from him, Nakor said, “Yes, there were, once, a very long time ago.”

“What about Zaltais?” asked Pug.

“Fadawah was lured to practicing dark magic by his advisor, Kahil,” Nakor said. “I think Kahil has been behind everything that went on in Novindus from the start. He was a dupe, a tool of the Pantathians, who somehow managed a degree of freedom, and he used that to create a position for himself, one where he could manipulate others …” He hesitated, then continued, “The same way Jorma became Lady Clovis and controlled the Overlord and Dahakon years ago. Kahil was at Fadawah’s side from the start. He avoided destruction and continued to advise and … well, I suspect he convinced Fadawah to turn to the very powers that destroyed the Emerald Queen and the Demon King. He served that power we do not speak of, and like most of the Nameless One’s minions, he did not even know who he served … he was just driven.”

“Zaltais?” prodded Miranda. “What did you mean when you said he wasn’t a creature?”

“He was not of this reality, more so than the demons or even the dread. He was a thing from the Seventh Circle of Hell.”

“But what was he?” asked Pug.

“He was a thought, probably a dream.”

“A thought?” asked Tomas.

Pug said, “And when I looked into the rift?”

“You saw the mind of a God.”

“I don’t understand,” said Pug.

Nakor patted him on the shoulder. “You will in a few hundred years. For now, consider that a God slept and as he slept he dreamed, and in that dream he fancied some tiny creature spoke his name and in doing so became his tool. In that dream that tool created havoc and called to him and he sent his Angel of Despair to answer the call. And the Angel served the tool.”

“Why couldn’t Zaltais be killed?” asked Miranda.

Nakor smiled. “You can’t kill a dream, Miranda. Even an evil dream. You can only send it back to where it came from.”

Tomas touched his lip. “That dream seemed concrete enough to me.”

“Oh,” said Nakor, “a God’s dream is reality.”

Pug said, “We should go.”

“Where?” asked Miranda. “Back to the island?”

“No,” said Nakor. “We should tell the Prince the leadership of the enemy is dead.”

“Krondor, then,” said Pug.

“One thing, though,” said Miranda.

“What?” asked Nakor.

“You mentioned some time ago that the demon Jakan replaced Mother at the head of that army, but you never said anything about what happened to her.”

Nakor said, “Your mother is dead.”

“Are you certain?” asked Miranda.

Nakor nodded. “Very certain.”

Pug stood up, still feeling shaky. Tomas said, “Ryana will bear me back to Elvandar.”

Pug embraced his old friend and said, “Again, we say goodbye.”

“And we’ll meet again,” answered Tomas.

“Fare you well, old friend,” said Pug.

“And you three as well,” said Tomas.

He climbed aboard the dragon’s back and she leaped into the sky. Two beats of her wings and she banked off to the west and started on the journey back to Elvandar.

Pug said, “Are you up to getting us all to Krondor?”

Miranda said, “I can manage.” She took them both by the hands and closed her eyes, and reality swam around them.

They appeared in the great hall of the Prince’s palace in Krondor as the war horns sounded the call for the reserves to come to the main gate.

Gustaf said, “If you can’t slip inside the gate and unlock it—”

“Kick it down,” finished Dash.

They heard the rumble as the ram was rolled down the road toward the main gate. The road into the city from the east was a long incline from a series of rolling hills, and the ram was a huge one, fashioned from five trees lashed together by heavy ropes. Horsemen rode on either side with guide ropes, and as they reached the last stretch of road before the gate, they released the ropes and veered off.

The ram picked up speed and the rumbling grew louder as the ram closed to within fifty yards of the gate. As it bore down, Dash reflexively gripped the stones of the wall as he anticipated the impact.

Then someone shoved between Gustaf and Dash and stuck his hand over the wall. A sheet of light extended from the man’s hand, and Dash turned to see his great-grandfather standing next to him. “Enough!” Pug shouted, his anger clearly evident on his face as the ram exploded into a thousand flaming splinters.

Whatever the Keshians expected, this display of magic wasn’t it. Their attack, timed to coincide with the ram smashing the gate, faltered as men on horseback were suddenly greeted by the sight of a very high wall surmounted by archers instead of an open gate for them to charge through.

They pulled up and milled around in confusion, as the defenders on the wall unleashed a barrage of arrows. Pug shouted, “No!” and with a wave of his hands sent out a curtain of heat that turned the arrows into flaming cinders that fell far short of their mark. Turning to Dash, he said, “I don’t see any other officers. Are you in charge here?”

Dash said, “For the moment.”

“Then order your men to stop shooting.”

Dash did so, and the Keshians retreated to their lines unharmed. Pug said, “Send a herald to the Keshian commander. Tell him I want to meet with the commander of that army in the Prince’s palace in one hour’s time.”

“In the palace?” asked Dash.

“Yes, when he gets here, open the gate and let him in.”

“What if he won’t come?”

Pug turned his back, motioned to Nakor and Miranda on the rear of the gatehouse, and said, “He’ll come, or I’ll destroy his army.”

“But what do I tell him?” asked Dash.

“Tell him the war is over.”

A pale and weak-looking Patrick stood before his throne as General Asham ibin Al-tuk marched into the throne room, flanked by a guard and a servant. He bowed perfunctorily. “I am here, Highness.”

Patrick said, “I did not call this meeting.”

Pug stepped forward and said, “I did.”

“And you are?” asked the General.

“I am called Pug.”

The General raised an eyebrow in recognition. “The magician at Stardock.”

“The same.”

“Why have you summoned me?”

“To tell you to take your army and go home.”

The General said, “If you think that display outside the gate will turn my attention—”

A guard ran in and said, “Highness, fighting has erupted!”

The General said, “I am under a flag of truce!”

Patrick asked the guard, “Where is the fighting?”

“Outside the wall! It appears as if cavalry from both the north and south has attacked the Keshians.”

Patrick said, “General, those are units not presently under my command. They are obviously riding to relieve Krondor and do not know of the truce. You are free to rejoin your men.”

The General bowed and turned to leave, but Pug said, “No!”

“What?” asked both the Prince and the General simultaneously.

Pug said, “This will end now!”

He vanished from sight.

Nakor, who had been standing in the comer near Miranda, said, “For a tired man he manages to get around, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does,” Miranda agreed with a faint smile.

Pug appeared over the heart of the battlefield and saw that baggage wagons were afire at the rear of the Keshian position and that a company of horse was attacking along the coast road from the north, catching the Keshians between two attacking columns.

Pug hovered a hundred feet above the battle and clapped his hands together, and a peal of thunder struck those below, knocking some of the riders directly underneath him out of their saddles.

Men looked up and saw a man floating in the air, and from that man a brilliant light erupted, a golden glow that was as bright as the sun. His voice carried to every man as if he were standing next to them: “This ends now!”

With a wave of his hand he sent a force through the air, a ripple which visibly distorted the air. The wave hit horses and knocked them down, throwing more men to the ground.

Men turned and ran.

Jimmy sat firm on a bucking, frantic horse, trying to bring the animal under control. After two more kicks, the animal set out at a run, and Jimmy let it, turning it and then bringing it to a halt. He turned the animal around and saw more animals running in every direction as Keshians raced back toward their burning wagons.

Then he glanced up to where Pug hung in the air and again came Pug’s voice: “This ends now.”

Then Pug vanished.

Nakor said, “Well, at least you got them to stop fighting for a while.” The three of them sat in an abandoned room in the palace, after the Prince had retired and the Keshian General returned to his army.

“I will get them to stop for good,” said Pug.

“Or what?” asked Miranda.

Pug said, “I’m sick of killing. I’m sick of destruction. But more than anything, I’m sick of the mindless stupidity I see on every side of me.” Pug thought of the losses to war he had endured, from his childhood friend Roland and Lord Borric to Owen Greylock, a man he had not known well, but one whom he had found himself liking from their winter together at Darkmoor. “Too many good men. And too many innocents. It can’t go on. If I have to … I don’t know, put up a wall between both armies, I’ll do it.”

Nakor said, “You’ll think of something. When the Prince and the General have time to calm down, you can tell them what you want.”

“When are you meeting again?” asked Miranda.

“Tomorrow at noon.”

“Good,” said Nakor. “That gives me time to see if what I think has happened has happened.”

“You’re being cryptic again,” said Miranda.

Nakor smiled. “Come along and see. We’ll get something to eat.”

He led them out of the room, then out of the palace, past guards who stood an uneasy watch knowing they might have to return to the walls and a terrible fight at a moment’s notice.

As they left the palace, they saw horsemen riding into the marshaling yard through the southern gate. At their head Pug saw his other great-grandson and waved.

Jimmy rode over and said, “I saw that display, Pug.” He grinned and Pug’s heart squeezed slightly when for a second he saw Gamina’s smile echoed in it. “You saved a lot of my men’s lives. Thank you.”

Pug said, “I’m pleased you were among those who benefited.”

“Is Dash …?”

“He’s inside, alive, and until Patrick regains his strength, in command of the city.”

Jimmy laughed. “Somehow I don’t think he enjoys that very much.”

“Go see him,” said Pug. “We’re going to Nakor’s temple and will be back in the morning. We have a general meeting at noon to end this nonsense.”

Jimmy said, “I will be more than pleased to see that. Duko’s a marvel, and he’s managed to keep the South under control, despite this Keshian adventure, but we’re sorely tested along both borders, and I haven’t any idea how things go in the North.”

“That war is finished, too.”

Jimmy said, “I am relieved to hear that, Greatgrandfather. I will see you in the morning.”

Nakor said, “Let’s go. I want to see what’s happened.”

They hurried through a city cautiously returning to normal activities as people ventured out of their houses. With so few people about, they reached the Temple Quarter of the city quickly.

No one was visible outside the tent, but once they stepped through, they saw a crowd sitting on the floor. In the center of the room the woman Aleta sat on the floor, rather than floating in the air, and the light about her was gone. So was the ill-aspected darkness which had hovered in the air beneath her.

Dominic hurried over and said, “Nakor! I am glad to see you.”

“When did this happen?” asked Nakor.

“A few hours ago. One moment she was floating in the air, and the next the blackness below her vanished, as if it had been sucked down through a hole, and she gently floated back to the ground, opened her eyes, and began speaking.”

Pug and the others turned their attention to what the woman was saying, and instantly Nakor said, “Her voice, it’s different.”

Pug had no knowledge of what the young woman had sounded like before, but he knew it could be nothing like what he heard now, for her voice was magical. It was soft, and yet easy to hear if one but took a moment to listen: a musical voice.

“What’s she saying?” asked Miranda.

“She’s been talking about the nature of good since she awoke,” said Dominic. He looked at Nakor. “When you first began this temple, and when you told us what you would do, I was skeptical, but knew we had to try. But what we see before us now is absolute proof the power of Ishap needed to be shared with the Order of Arch-Indar, for there, before us, sits a living Avatar of the Goddess.”

Nakor laughed. “Nothing so grand as that. Come.” He led them through the seated crowd and came to stand before the young woman. She ignored him and continued talking. Nakor knelt and looked into her eyes. “Is she repeating herself?” he asked.

Dominic said, “Why, yes, I believe so.”

“Has anyone written down what she’s said?”

Sho Pi was sitting to one side and said, “I have had two acolytes recording her words, Master Nakor. This is the beginning of her third iteration of the same lesson she taught.”

“Good, because I’ll bet she’s getting hungry and tired.” He put his hand on her shoulder and she faltered in her speech.

She blinked and her eyes seemed to change focus, and she looked at Nakor and said, “What?” Her voice was different, what one might expect of a mortal woman of her age, without the magic that had made it soothing and wonderful a moment earlier.

“You’ve been asleep,” said Nakor. “Why don’t you get something to eat? We’ll talk later.”

The girl got up and said, “Oh, I’m stiff. I must have been sitting like that a while.”

Nakor said, “A couple of weeks, actually.”

“Weeks!” Aleta said. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ll explain everything to you later. Now go get some food and then a long nap.”

After she left, Dominic said, “If she’s not an avatar, what is she?”

Nakor grinned. “She is a dream.” He looked at Pug and Miranda, and said, “A wonderful dream.”

Miranda said, “But Nakor, she’s still here. Zaltais is gone.”

Nakor nodded. “He was a thing of the mind from that other world, projected into this. Aleta is a normal woman, but something reached across worlds to touch her and used her to hold back that blackness.”

“What was that blackness?” asked Dominic.

“A very bad dream. I’ll explain over dinner. Let’s find something to eat.”

Dominic said, “Very well. We have food in the kitchen.”

As they were walking, Nakor said, “By the way, we have to change a few things around here.”

“What?” asked Dominic.

“To begin with, you must notify the Ishapians you are no longer a member of their order.”

“What?”

Nakor put his arm around Dominic’s shoulder and said, “You look very young, but I know you’re an old man like me, Dominic. Pug told me the story of the time you and he went to the Tsurani homeworld. I know you’ve seen lots of things.

“Sho Pi over there is a perfect choice to teach the young monks how to be monks, but you are the one who must teach Aleta.”

“Teach her what?” asked Dominic.

“How to be High Priestess of the Order of Arch-Indar, of course.”

“High Priestess? That girl?”

“That girl?” repeated Nakor. “She was an Avatar of the Goddess a moment ago, wasn’t she?”

Miranda laughed, and Pug put his arm around her shoulders. It was the first time in a long while he had felt like laughing.

Erik said, “We can only assume Subai got through to the magician. By all reports they simply stopped fighting everywhere about the time all the corpses fell over.”

Earl Richard said, “Thank the Gods for that.”

“I wish we still had cavalry,” Erik said reflectively. “I have a hunch we could get men up to Ylith without much trouble.”

“Well, order up a unit on foot and see how far they get.”

Erik smiled. “I already have. And I’m sending Akee and his Hadati through the hills toward Yabon.”

Richard said, “Do you think we’ll ever know what happened, truly?”

Erik shook his head. “Probably not. I’ve been in battles where I still don’t know what happened. We’ll probably read more reports on this fight than we want to, and I’ll write a few of them myself, but truth to tell, I have no idea what really occurred.

“One minute we were struggling to beat back an army of dead men and crazed killers, and the next the dead men all fell over and the killers were walking around slack-jawed and apparently without minds. I’ve never heard of a fight going from hopeless to easy in a second before.” The very tired young Captain said, “But to tell you the truth, I don’t really care now that the fighting’s stopped.”

“You’re a remarkable young man, Erik von Darkmoor. I’ll mention that in my report to the King.”

“Thanks, but there are a lot of men out there deserving of praise more than I.” He sighed and looked out the tent door. “And many of them won’t be going home.”

“What should we do now?” asked Earl Richard.

“Without cavalry, I’m inclined to sit tight until we get word of the situation down in Krondor. But my instinct tells me we need to advance northward as fast as we can. Fadawah may have fled or been killed, but that doesn’t mean some other petty captain won’t try to grab power and fashion a modest little Kingdom for himself. And as far as we know, Yabon City is still under siege.”

Earl Richard said, “I’m tired of sitting around, myself. Give the order to advance.”

Erik smiled and stood up. “My lord,” he said with a bow. He went outside and found Jadow Shati near the Crimson Eagles’ campsite. “Break camp!” he ordered. “And ready to march!”

“You heard the man!” said the former sergeant. “I want every man ready to march in an hour!”

Jadow turned and grinned at his old companion, and Erik found once more he couldn’t resist that man’s smile; he grinned in return.

Patrick showed every sign of being on the way to a full recovery. His color had returned to normal and he sat firmly upon his throne.

The Keshian General Asham ibin Al-tuk again stood before the throne, looking even less pleased than the last time he had appeared. Now he faced a Kingdom army reinforced by cavalry units from Port Vykor and from the North.

Pug walked in.

Patrick said, “You demanded we be here at noon, Pug. What have you to say to us?”

Pug looked at Patrick, then at the General, and said, “This war is over. General, you will refresh your soldiers outside one more day, then at first light tomorrow you will return to the South. You will return beyond the original borders south of Land’s End. You will carry orders to all Keshian units to cease their attacks on Land’s End and you will relay the following message to your Emperor: should Kesh come north again, uninvited, no man crossing the border under arms will survive.”

The General stood ashen-faced and shaking with rage, but he nodded.

Patrick beamed. His smile was one of victory. “Dare to linger, Keshian, and my magician will destroy your army where it stands.”

Pug turned. “Your magician?” Pug advanced upon the young Prince and walked up the stairs to stand before him. “I am not your magician, Patrick. I loved your grandfather and counted him among the greatest men I’ve known, and I treasured the love of your great-grandfather Borric, who gave me the name conDoin, but you don’t own my soul. There are forces loose in the universe so far beyond your petty dreams of power and wealth they are a flood to a drip of water. It is those forces who command my attention. I just refuse to sit idly by any longer and see innocent women and children slaughtered and brave men die because rulers are too foolish to see they have abundance.”

Turning to the General, Pug said, “You may also tell your Emperor that should any Kingdom soldier move south uninvited, every man under arms who crosses the border will be destroyed.”

“What?” said Patrick standing. “You dare threaten the Kingdom?”

“I make no threats,” said Pug. “I am telling you that you will not be permitted any retribution against Kesh. You will both return to your respective sides of the border and act like civilized neighbors.”

“You are a Duke of the Kingdom, a member of the royal family by adoption, and a sworn vassal to the crown! If I tell you to destroy that army outside the gate, you will do so!”

Pug’s anger rose up and he stared the taller young man in the eyes. “I shall not. No power you possess can compel me to act against my will. If you want those Keshians outside the walls dead, take a sword and go out and try to kill them.”

Patrick’s rage erupted. “You traitor!”

Pug put his hand on Patrick’s chest and shoved him back into the throne. Guards throughout the hall put hands on the hilts of swords to protect their Prince. Miranda stepped forward, hand upraised, and said, “I wouldn’t!”

Nakor stood at her side, and held up his staff. “The boy is all right.”

Pug leaned over, almost nose to nose with Patrick, and said, “You who have never drawn a sword in a battle more serious than chasing some goblins around in the north call me ‘traitor?’ I have saved your Kingdom, you fool. I did not save it for you anymore than I saved the Empire for that man’s” – his finger shot out, pointing at the Keshian General – “master. I did it because of the countless souls that would have been lost had I not.”

Looking first at Patrick then the General, Pug said, “Take word to your father, and your master, that Stardock is free. Any attempt to force Kingdom or Empire rule on that entity will bring my intervention. They have my word on that and I shall enforce their independence.” Pug turned and stepped away from the throne. “I care not who sits on your father’s throne, Patrick. You gather together the shards of your broken crown and rebuild your nation. I care not for your titles and rank. I am done with your Kingdom.” He put his arms out and Miranda and Nakor came to stand on either side. “I renounce my title as Duke of the Kingdom. I foreswear my oath as subject to the crown. I have larger concerns than your vanities and national agendas. I am here to protect this world, not just one part of it.

“Let it be known that Pug of Crydee is no more. I am now merely the Black Sorcerer. My island is no longer a hospitable place for the uninvited. Anyone sailing within sight of it is at peril, and anyone setting foot upon it without my leave will be destroyed!”

Then with a thunderous crash and a thick cloud of black smoke, he vanished with his companions.

Dash said, “Great-grandfather certainly twisted Patrick’s smalls, didn’t he?”

Jimmy said, “I’ve had more pleasant afternoons.”

They had just retired from a council with the Prince. The withdrawal of the Keshian troops was discussed as well as what exactly Patrick would report to his father. It had lasted long past dinner and into the night.

They were walking toward Jimmy’s quarters for a quiet moment alone before retiring for the night. “Did you talk to Francie?” asked Dash.

Jimmy said, “No. I saw her a brief second but didn’t get a chance to really speak with her.”

“She’s afraid that once she’s married to Patrick you’ll just stop talking to her. She doesn’t want to lose your friendship.”

Jimmy said, “That won’t happen. One thing about this war, it taught me what really is important and what just seems important.”

Dash said, “I know.”

There was a note in his voice Jimmy had never heard before. “What is it?”

Dash said, “Just some people I cared about didn’t get through this.”

Jimmy stopped. “Someone special to you?”

Dash turned and said, “I don’t want to talk about it today. I’ll tell you all about it someday, just not today.”

Jimmy said, “Very well.” He was silent a minute as they continued to walk along the hallways. “I think I learned something myself, and maybe it’s important, too.”

“What?”

“Francie is … someone special. But I think I feel the need for something and she is the person I elected to cast in the role of the person to fulfill that need.”

“Grandfather and Grandmother?”

“Yes, what they had. I think that seeing how they felt, especially after seeing how cool Mother and Father always were to each other, it makes me want to have what Grandmother and Grandfather had.”

“Few gain that.”

They reached the door to Jimmy’s room and opened it.

Three people were sitting inside. “Come in and close that door,” said Pug.

Jimmy and Dash entered and Dash closed the door.

Pug said, “I could not leave without speaking to you two. You are the last of my line.”

Trying to lift the mood, Jimmy said, “Please don’t put it that way.”

Miranda laughed.

Dash said, “And we do have relatives in the East.”

Pug laughed. “There is so much of your grandfather in you two.” He looked at Dash. “Upon occasion you look like him when he was a boy.” He looked at Jimmy. “And sometimes you look so much like my Gamina it haunts me.”

He opened his arms and Jimmy and Dash came and hugged him in turn. “I shall not return to the Kingdom unless it is for a reason far more important than the whims of kings,” said Pug. “But you two are my blood, and you and your children will always be welcome on my island.”

Dash said, “You have influence with the King. Do you have to make this sort of break?”

Pug said, “I knew King Lyam as a boy in Crydee. I knew Arutha better, but both knew my heart. The King knew me from his father.”

Nakor said, “Borric knows me well, and my words might carry some weight, but what Pug is being diplomatic in avoiding is that, short of an unexpected disaster, Patrick will someday be King.”

“We are avoiding an argument of momentous proportion later by having it now,” said Pug. “The Kingdom is in shambles. Patrick is forced by circumstances to yield to my demands. If this confrontation occurred years from now, how many innocents would die as I enforced my will?”

“And what would that make him?” said Miranda. “Only a different tyrant than those men of whom we just disposed.”

Dash said, “You cut yourself off from so much.”

Pug said, “I have seen worlds and traveled through time, my boy. I have so much more to see. This Kingdom of the Isles is but one of many places that are now dear to me.”

Nakor said, “And if need be, we’ll be back.”

Dash said, “Well, we have a lot of work to do, and if you want my opinion, you’re doing the right thing.”

Pug smiled. “Thank you for that.”

Jimmy said, “I can’t say I agree with Dash, but I know that it is your choice and I wish you well.” He smiled at Miranda. “Shall I call you Great-grandmother?”

“Not if you value your life,” said Miranda with a smile.

Dash said, “I shall think of you a lot.”

Jimmy said, “As shall I.”

Pug stood. “Be well,” he said, holding out his hands to Nakor and Miranda, and they vanished.

Dash sat down on Jimmy’s bed, leaning back against his down pillow. “I think I’m going to sleep for a week.”

“Then make it next week, Sheriff,” said Jimmy. “We have a lot of work to do in the morning and one hell of a mess to unravel.” He glanced over and saw his brother was already asleep. For a moment he considered waking him, then he shrugged, left, and went next door to sleep in Dash’s bed.