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In the days since William had returned from Hamstowe, Broderick had been turning the problem over and over in his mind. The Earl of Hyrne’s men were a threat. Sir Vernon Goss was an even bigger threat. True, Broderick was the captain general, but he couldn’t just gather his men and go up there to fight. For one thing, he didn’t have enough troops yet. Colonel Rath was supposed to be building up some new regiments from city men, but that was taking a while, and most of the funds seemed to be disappearing into Rath’s pockets, blast him.
But even if he’d had all the troops he wanted, he couldn’t march on Hamstowe without making it look like he was the one starting the war. He’d lose all his credibility with the council. Plus (and this was the most sobering thought of all) he had no way of knowing whether half his men might defect to the other side. If Vernon Goss could turn his coat, then no one was reliable.
Then, as he sat in church, on a gray and rainy Sunday morning, a startling idea came to him. Toward the end of the service, the Bishop of Formacaster happened to mention the upcoming wedding of some minor nobleman’s daughter to the son of one of the guild presidents, and that was the moment it clicked. Maybe he didn’t have to fight the men at Hamstowe. Maybe there was a way to cut them off at the knees without drawing a single sword.
It wasn’t an entirely new idea. People had mentioned it before, in a vague sort of way. Broderick had even discussed it with King Edgar over drinks one evening. But the king had flatly rejected the notion, and nothing had come of it. Maybe now he should try again. By the time the Gemot met, it would be a fait accompli, as the Immani said.
Turning to his wife, he whispered, “Has our son ever mentioned any girls he likes to you?”
Muriel looked startled by the question. “No. Why do you ask?”
“I thought perhaps it might be time to discuss the issue with him.”
“I see.” Then her eyes narrowed, and her lips spread in a thin smile. Through that odd mental sympathy that had always existed between them, even at the lowest moments of their marriage, she saw where he was going instantly, without having to be told. “Let me guess: little cousin Elwyn?”
“Exactly.”
They rode back up to the castle in their separate carriages, the way they had arrived, but then they reconvened in Muriel’s apartment while a servant was sent to find Broderick the younger. Meanwhile they took tea in casual silence, sitting on opposite ends of a long, hard-backed couch. All of Muriel’s furniture was stiff and severe, and her only decorations were her bookshelves. It couldn’t be a very comfortable place to spend much time, Broderick thought, but then he wasn’t the one who had to live there.
Their son showed up drenched to the skin, having apparently spent the morning at the archery range. “Why weren’t you in church?” Muriel asked.
“I forgot,” the boy said with a shrug of his big shoulders.
“Try to remember, dear. You needn’t bother with all the theology if you don’t like, but it’s a marvelous way to meet people. Why, poor Princess Elwyn was sitting by herself today, and if you’d been there, you could have sat with her.”
Elwyn really had been seated by herself—everyone wanted to gossip about the queen, and you couldn’t very well do that if you were within earshot of her inexplicably loyal stepdaughter.
“That’s too bad she was sitting alone,” said the young man. “People are really being unpleasant about this whole business, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are,” agreed Broderick. “And I’m sure a few words of sympathy from you would mean a great deal to her.”
His son frowned. “Really? You know she doesn’t like me very much.”
“Nonsense,” said Muriel, sliding past this objection as if it were inconsequential. “You’re a good-looking young man, and she’s a rather pretty girl. You do agree she’s pretty, don’t you?”
“Um....”
He turned a deep scarlet and fidgeted with his hands, which was a teenage boy’s way of saying “yes.” And no one could deny the princess was very attractive, if a bit on the thin and bony side. A shame about her personality, but one couldn’t have everything.
“I think you should try to get to know her better,” said Broderick.
“Are you suggesting that she and I...?”
“Oh, no need to get ahead of ourselves, dear,” said Muriel. “Get to know her, and we’ll see where it goes.” Her face lit up. “In fact, I saw her having tea with Duchess Flora in the Palm Court. Why don’t you and I go down and join them? Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Broderick the younger didn’t look like he thought having tea with his cousin Elwyn was going to be fun at all, but he dutifully left with his mother, all the same. A good boy, as always, though Broderick often worried he lacked ambition. Well, Muriel would take care of him. Muriel had ambition enough for a whole kingdom.
He thought about going down with them, but then decided against it. This was the sort of thing a mother could do better than a father. Different tools for different jobs, and Muriel had the sure touch of a surgeon with a knife. Or a torturer, for that matter.
He decided to go over to his office in the guard barracks, though as he left, he peeked briefly into the Palm Court and spotted the foursome at their table near the center fountain. Muriel and Flora were chatting happily and laughing, while the two young people sat in stony-faced silence. Broderick shook his head. Muriel had her work cut out for her. But he had confidence in her, all the same.
When he got to his office, he sent Squire Kevin off to go find Sir William Aitken, and settled in to answer his messages. But he was almost immediately interrupted by Colonel Sir Volker Rath. On the spur of the moment, Broderick had an idea. A little extra pressure never hurt. Let the girl see she was in a trap, and then show her a way out. It wouldn’t make her fall in love, necessarily, but it wouldn’t have to, if it made her more amenable.
“I want you to increase security on the queen and her children,” said Broderick. “They’re not to leave their apartments without my authorization. People are saying there’s an assassination threat against them.”
“Assassination, sir? Are people really saying that?”
“Of course.” Well, two people were saying it now. By the end of the day, it would probably be the whole court.
“If we’re going to have more guards up here, my lord,” said the colonel, “I’m going to need more money to pay them.”
“I gave you a hundred Sovereigns on Monday,” said Broderick. He had been forced to break down and borrow the money from the Immani Procellus Bank, and it still annoyed him.
“Yes, but there are so many expenses,” said Rath. He had on a new velvet doublet with a fine lace collar. And he hadn’t had nearly so many gold rings the last time Broderick had seen him.
Broderick drummed his fingers on his accounts ledger. Then he rose and went to his sideboard, where he poured two cups of wine. Handing one to Rath, he said, “This is from the royal vineyards in Annenstruk. Muriel’s cousins, of course.”
Rath took a long, slurping gulp and smiled. “Excellent stuff, my lord.”
“Yes. You know, I learned a little about vineyard management when I was a squire for the king down there.”
“Is that right, my lord?”
“Yes, indeed. People will tell you it’s all about the kind of grapes you use, or the soil, or what side of the hill you grow it on. But it’s really all about having the right manager for the estate. That’s the key.”
The colonel frowned. “Really?”
Broderick set his own cup down and took a step forward, pushing Rath back against the wall. “When I put a man in charge of a vineyard, Rath, I don’t mind if he takes a few grapes now and again. But when he starts ripping up the vines right and left, I become a trifle concerned. Do you see what I mean?”
“I’m very sorry, my lord. I’ll do my best to manage things better in the future. You won’t have to tell me twice.”
“I certainly won’t,” said Broderick. “This is the only time we’ll have this conversation.” He glared at the man for a few seconds longer, and then stepped back, allowing him to beat a hasty retreat out of the office.
He felt much better after that, and wrote a few letters until Squire Kevin returned with Sir William. When Kevin had left, shutting the door behind him, Broderick asked William, “How is your son doing?”
The question clearly surprised the man. They didn’t usually discuss his life outside work. “He’s well, my lord. He’s talking a great deal now.”
“I assume he takes after his mother,” said Broderick.
“I hope so, my lord,” said William, giving the joke a tiny hint of a smile.
“You should enjoy these years,” said Broderick. “Children grow up so fast.”
“That’s what everyone says, sir.”
“Yes, the boy becomes a man before you know it. In fact that’s why I’ve asked you here, William. I’ve decided it’s time for my son to take a wife.”
William bowed. “Congratulations, sir. And who is the bride to be?”
“My cousin, Princess Elwyn.” Broderick observed the effect of this announcement closely.
William seemed entirely unperturbed. “She is a very lucky girl.”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” said Broderick, “but one hopes they will be happy. In any case, I asked you here because I’d like you to be the one to make the formal offer to Queen Rohesia on behalf of my wife and myself.”
“Um...me, sir?” Broderick had never seen William look so terrified. “Are you sure, my lord? Wouldn’t your wife be a more appropriate emissary?”
“No. I want you to do it.”
Muriel would know how to be smooth and diplomatic. Save that for Elwyn herself. The girl still might be convinced to desert her Sigor stepmother and align herself with her new Gramiren in-laws. Rohesia wasn’t going to be fooled, though. She wasn’t going to be converted. Different tools for different jobs, and sending William meant sending a very clear message to Rohesia.
William squared his shoulders. “Very well, my lord. When would you like me to see her majesty?”
“Good man. Tomorrow is soon enough, I think. Take the day off and go see your family.”
Once William had left, Broderick returned to the Palm Court and took a seat over by the southeast waterfall, where he could see how things were going through the fronds of a big, spreading fern. It looked like Muriel had succeeded in drawing Elwyn out a bit. The princess seemed to be enjoying the conversation now. His son was still sitting there, red-faced and silent, though. Holy Finster, would it really have killed the boy to make an effort?
“Spying on the family now, are we?” Broderick turned to see Lukas back in the shadows, leaning against a pillar.
Broderick nodded toward the table. “Muriel is matchmaking.”
Lukas smiled. “Ah, of course. Excellent idea. Divide and conquer, if we can.” He straightened up and came closer. “Speaking of which, I was going to pay a few calls around town. It’s never too early to start lining up votes for the Gemot.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Broderick stood and, after a last glance at his son through the fern, he said, “Let’s go. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”