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was only because the matter was concluded almost as soon as it began, and
appeared to be entirely internal to the royal court that I felt no more
insulted. Even so, I think Polchiek does not realise how close he came to
being brought down a rung or two. And I might add that my Guard Commander
still worries that something is being hidden, that the apprentice's death was
somehow arranged by somebody who might have benefited from his silence. But in
any event, if, after such a murder and suicide, a favourite of the King were
to disappear, then it would mean that I
would have no choice but to discipline Polchiek with the utmost severity. My
honour could be preserved by nothing less, and arguably would still suffer. I
would need the most decidedly persuasive proof that the woman meant the King
some harm before I
could possibly countenance any such action.
W: Hmm. I fancy the only proof you would accept would be the King's corpse,
and that alone might prove satisfactory to you.
Q: Duke Walen, I would hope that your wit might devise a way to discover the
woman's fraudulent nature long before that could possibly occur.
W: Indeed. And I have just such a commission in hand.
Q: There, you see? And what is your plan?
W: Close to fruition, I hope.
Q: You will not tell me?
W: It is unfortunate that it seems neither of us can indulge the other,
Quettil.
Q: Yes, isn't it?
W: I have no more to say, I think.
Q: Very well. Oh, Duke?
W: Sir?
Q: I take it I can rely on the woman not still somehow disappearing while the
court rests at Yvenir, can I? If she did, I might have to think most carefully
about whether to reveal to the King what you have revealed to me.
W: You gave me your word.
Q: Why, that I did, dear Walen. But I'm sure you would agree that my first
loyalty is to the King, not to you. If I judged that the King was being
deceived for no persuasive reason, it would be my duty to inform him.
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W: I am sorry I have troubled you, sir. It would appear that we have both
wasted our time this morning.
Q: Good day, Walen.
This too I found later, not in the Doctor's journal but in some other papers
(and have edited it slightly to present a more continuous narrative). The
common participant of these two passages is Walen, but especially given all
that happened later I simply do not know what to make of it. I record. I do
not judge. I do not even offer speculation.
12. THE BODYGUARD
The Royal Park of Croughen Hills had been a private game reserve of the royal
house of
Tassasen for several centuries. UrLeyn had parcelled large parts of it out to
various of the nobles who had supported his cause in the war of succession,
but reserved the right of the
Protector and his court to go hunting in the forests.
The four mounts and their riders circled the tall clump of brush and tangled
creeper bush where they reckoned their prey had gone to ground.
RuLeuin took out his sword and leaned down from the saddle, poking at the mass
of vegetation. 'Are you sure he went in here, brother?'
'Quite certain,' UrLeyn said, dipping his face towards his mount's neck and
squinting at an opening into the bushes. He lowered himself still further,
letting go of the reins with one hand to peer into the undergrowth. DeWar,
riding at his side, reached out to hold the reins of UrLeyn's mount. RuLeuin,
on the far side of the bushes, also leant down upon the neck of his mount.
'How is the boy today, UrLeyn?' YetAmidous said, voice booming. His big face
was red and bright with sweat.
'Oh, he's well,' UrLeyn said, levering himself upright again. 'Better with
every day. Still not strong, though.' He glanced round, looking back up the
slope beneath the trees. 'We need some beaters here . . .'
'Get your dark man to beat for us,' YetAmidous said to UrLeyn, referring to
DeWar, 'You'll get down and beat for us, won't you, DeWar?'
DeWar smiled thinly. 'I only beat out human prey, General YetAmidous.'
'Human prey, eh?' YetAmidous said with a hearty laugh. 'Those were the days,
what?' He slapped his saddle. DeWar's thin smile lasted a little longer.
In the last years of the old Kingdom, when King Beddun had been at his most
carelessly cruel, prisoners or poachers unlucky enough to be caught plying
their trade in the forest had provided most of the prey for hunts. That
tradition of savagery had been outlawed, but there was one memento of the time
present, DeWar thought, in the shape of the old King Beddun's antique hunting
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