Chapter 13

"How do I look?" Ty entered Ky's chamber, where his brother sat on the bed, waiting patiently for him to finish getting dressed.

"Turn around," Ky requested, and Ty obligingly obeyed. They were wearing black-on-black again, but in deference to the summer heat, both shirt and tunic were made of a light gauzy linen that would have been almost indecently translucent if it hadn't been layered. The only relief from the somber color was the belt made up of interlocking silver and gold links and the same pattern embroidered on the necks, armholes and hem of the tunic.

"Looks good," Ky approved. "Your hair needs to be brushed again, though."

"I'm getting tired of wearing nothing but black," Ty complained as he undid his braid and reached for his twin's hairbrush. "It's boring. How much longer before we can wear colors again?"

"Not long," Ky assured him. "The queen's going to have to do something with her wardrobe in the next couple of days - otherwise we win this round. As soon as she does we can start the next phase of the plan."

"If you say so," the prince replied doubtfully. "I don't know how you stay two steps ahead of her like that."

"Intuition and bribery," Ky grinned. "You just have to know how she thinks and who to pay off."

"I don't know either one," Ty admitted. "I can think of a fast comeback when someone is speaking to me but I can't do the long-term planning that you do.'

"That's why we make a great team," his twin replied. "I never think of a smartass reply until it's too late. Are you ready? We don't want to be late."

"Just about. I hate council meetings," Ty confessed as he refastened the clasp on his braid. "Everybody sits around arguing about petty details and nothing gets accomplished. And they all act like we're too young and stupid to be there. I swear, the next time someone tut tuts and says 'Now, Prince Ty'lin, I don't think you're aware of the ramifications of the situation,' I'm going to punch him right in the mouth."

Ky laughed. "I don't think that's going to improve his opinion of you, Ty," he said.

"No, but it would make me feel better," the other prince replied with a dark glower. "Come on. Let's go annoy some old men."

The Privy Council was made up of the king's most trusted ministers and advisors and their meeting chamber was set high in the outer wall of the castle. Unlike the larger, more formal audience chamber where the king met with visiting dignitaries, this room was used solely for strategy meetings and its appearance reflected its use. Broad uncurtained windows set into the thick stone filled the room with light, but the dull gray walls were otherwise unadorned. The only color in the chamber was the Royal standard displayed at one end of the room and the bright clothing of the courtiers who attended the meetings.

Seating at the massive oak table, while theoretically unassigned, was a sure indication of political status - the closer to the king, the higher one's present standing - and when the princes entered the room, a number of the ministers were already in place, jealously guarding their positions from possible encroachment. Others, either more secure or more prideful, were standing about, engaged in quiet speculation about the reason for this unexpected meeting.

The princes nodded regally to a couple of their more vocal detractors as they made their way to the head of the table, taking an almost impish pleasure in the frowns of disapproval that followed them. They seated themselves in the first two places to the right of the king's high-backed chair, lounging as leisurely as possible in the uncomfortable chairs. Ty took the cup of wine offered to him by one of the servants and raised it to the portly prime minister sitting across from them - one of the worst of the tut tutter's - before taking a long swallow, and Ky smothered a laugh at the man's outraged expression.

Before long, a young page entered the room to breathlessly warn everyone that the king was on his way, and they all hurried to take their seats, reminding the irrepressible twins of a child's game of musical chairs. As the last one sat down, the princes surveyed the table, noting which men were in different places from the last meeting and whether their status had risen or fallen. The Wizard Andronicus had moved down several places, Ky observed, and he didn't look too happy about it. The prince nudged his older brother, silently indicating the change and then, as King Abaddon entered the room and strode to the head of the table, they both straightened and schooled their faces into the blank masks they wore at all official functions.

Instead of immediately seating himself, the king stood, resting his hands on the table and looked out over his audience before addressing them.

"My lords." His eyes touched each man during his speech, and the princes knew that every one of them would feel that the king was speaking to him personally. "I'm sure you've been wondering about the reason for this unexpected meeting."

The princes, with the ease of long practice, listened with only half an ear to the speech itself, focusing instead on the reactions of the men around them. Later, the king would discuss their observations with them, as well as the possible meanings behind those reactions.

There was a moment of silence as the men took in the news, then the noise level rose dramatically as everyone began talking at once. Most of the excited exclamations indicated pleasure and relief; the prime minister's expression was one of the most open as he almost wept with joy, and the princes' gaze quickly passed over him to those who expressed less happiness at the news. One of those was the wizard.

Andronicus had been sitting as if stunned during the king's speech, his face slowly turning puce and he suddenly burst out, as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, "This can't be true! It's impossible!"

"I beg your pardon?" The king coldly raised one eyebrow as the rest of the men gasped in astonishment at the wizard's audacity.

"You can't have met with the knights!" Andronicus shouted, so filled with rage that he didn't realize the trap he was setting for himself. "I would have been tol--" Too late, he realized what he was saying.

"Go on," the king said softly, his cold, even tone more menacing than most men's rage. "You were saying that you would have been told? And who would have told you, Andronicus?"

"It's-- The riddle is only a diversion! There is no answer! They're lying!"

The Prime Minister unwittingly saved the Wizard from annihilation. "Your Majesty," he began somewhat pompously, even as he wiped a tear from his cheek, "while I in no way doubt these knights' sincerity, what if they're wrong? You've seen how the news has raised the hopes and spirits of those in this room. How much more will it raise the hopes and spirits of the populace at large? And how will it affect the kingdom if those hopes are dashed? I feel it only-- ahem-- politic that we, your most trusted advisors, be informed of this answer that we might judge it as well."

"Are you suggesting that I lack the judgment to make this decision? That I cannot tell a true solution from some of the more preposterous suggestions that have been made?" The king's voice dripped ice and the minister hastily backtracked.

"No, Your Majesty, not at all. Your judgment is unerring and I'm sure we all trust it implicitly. I was just thinking-- I mean, we all would like-- uh, er--" He looked to his fellow ministers for help, but no one was willing to risk his own status by coming to the man's rescue.

"Because of the great danger involved to the princes," King Abaddon announced regally, "I've decided that it's best to keep the solution known only to myself and the Champions at this time. I want no word to reach the Dragon and give him time to prepare himself. But I have supreme confidence in the knights' wisdom--" he paused as Ty'lin choked on a sip of wine and waited until the young man had recovered before continuing, "I have every expectation that they shall prevail and I will announce that fact to the people of this city this afternoon. In addition, my fastest couriers will be leaving immediately to carry the news to every corner of the kingdom."

"But Your Majesty!" the wizard cried despairingly. "You don't have to do this! It isn't necessary! I have the answer. I have almost readied the spell that will vanquish the dragon. I can take care of it. There's no reason to make treaty with that-- that *animal*! I assure you that I have the matter well in hand."

"As you assured me last time, Wizard? I think not. This time I'll place my trust in someone more reliable - the Princes' new Champions."

"But Your Majesty!" Adronicus wailed.

Enough! I have made my decision! Be grateful you still have your position as Royal Wizard and be done with it! " King Abaddon swept from the chamber and the princes hastily followed, leaving bedlam behind.

"I've decided to make the announcement from the steps of the Temple," Abaddon informed his sons as their guards fell in behind them. "And offer thanks and praise to the gods immediately afterwards. The priests are already preparing the ceremony. You'll travel with me, as usual, but the knights had better arrive separately. I'll have appropriate clothing delivered to the Temple and they can dress there as well. I think it will have the most impact if no one makes the connection until they appear behind you as I issue the proclamation."

He continued to rap out orders until they separated at his workchamber. There, they knew, he would go back to the never-ending duties that were his responsibility while they went to find the knights and inform them of his plans.

Back in the deserted council chamber, the seething wizard was attempting to control his temper. The sidelong glances and wide berth the other council members had given him as they left were not lost on him. It would be difficult to make up the political ground he'd lost this day, and he knew exactly who to blame. Braccus.

As if summoned by the thought, his chief spy sidled into the room. "Wizard Andronicus! There you are! I've been trying to find you since yesterday. My men have informed me that His Majesty met with those knights yesterday and then was closeted alone with the princes all evening. I feel that this is important because--"

"*Now* you tell me! When it's too late to do anything about it!"

"I tried!" the spy whined, fearfully backing away from the wizard's wrath. "I couldn't find you!"

"And because of your incompetence, your *stupidity*, I had no warning and no time to stop this-- this-- catastrophe!" The wizard's impotent rage found its outlet. He raised his hand and slashed it savagely through the air.

"Noooooo..." The sound died away, and the wizard gazed at the bright red radish lying at his feet with the first evidence of enjoyment since the whole fiasco with the dragon had begun. He started to leave, then went back and, picking up the vegetable, thriftily tucked it away in one of his voluminous pockets. After all, he might need the man again someday.

~~~~~~~~~

The Temple of the Gods was an immense cathedral dedicated to all of the deities. Standing at one end of Temple Square, its soaring marble walls dwarfing the buildings around it, it dominated the skyline and proclaimed the power of the gods.

As the knights approached on foot, workmen were scurrying over the broad steps that led up to the lofty colonnade, constructing the dais where the king would make his speech. Once it was completed, Temple Wizards would set their spells, magically magnifying the king's voice so it could be heard by all within the Square.

Others set up awnings and hung tapestries from the stands and boxes erected along the sides of the square. Here the wealthy and noble would sit in comfort, shaded from the hot sun as they sipped wine and nibbled delicacies.

People were already streaming into the square, anxious to obtain prime spots with a good view of the Royal Family. Enterprising street vendors hawked food and drink amid spirited discussion and wild speculation about the forthcoming proclamation. Small children, unbowed by the weighty affairs of the adults, scampered over the rapidly disappearing patches of grass, darting around human obstacles as they played their own special games and daringly splashed each other with water dipped from the Fountain of the Gods.

"Hold on," David told his friend as they passed a vendor carrying a tray of fruit tarts. "I want to get something to eat."

"How can you think about eating right now?" Michael demanded irately.

"I'm hungry!" the other knight protested. "I didn't get any lunch! And who knows when we're going to have a chance to eat again?"

Michael sighed but made no further argument as David purchased two of the pastries and handed him one as they continued to make their way through the crowd. The knights in their everyday shirts and breeches blended in with the workers as they ascended the steps and approached the massive, intricately carved doors of the Temple.

They paused just inside, allowing their eyes to adjust to the subdued lighting. The noise of the crowd didn't penetrate the thick stone walls, and the soaring, vaulted ceilings captured the heat and held it away from the intricately patterned marble floor, leaving the interior cool and quiet. An aura of awe and tranquility pervaded, as if the cares of the world were left at the door, insignificant in the eyes of the gods.

"Where are we supposed to go from here?" David asked quietly, surveying the vast sanctuary with its many side chapels dedicated to the various deities.

"This way," Marius, the king's aide replied as he came up behind them. "You'll be using the Acolytes' changing room.

They followed him silently, automatically genuflecting as they passed the great stone altar where the Eternal Fire burned, to a narrow door almost hidden in a recess.

"Your clothing and armor are there on the table," he said, opening the door and gesturing for them to enter the small, dimly-lit chamber. "Please change as quickly as possible. Someone will be back for you in a short while and we'll go over the ceremony and your part in it." The door closed behind him before they could reply.

They had just removed their boots when they heard someone softly calling their names.

"David? Michael? Where are you?"

"Here," David called back as he went to open the door. "We're in here."

"What are you two doing here?" Michael asked as the princes entered the room. "Shouldn't you stay with the king?"

"No." Ty shook his head. "He's going over the ceremony with the high priest and doesn't want to be disturbed."

"So we came to help you dress," Ky added, flashing his mischievous smile.

"Thanks for the offer," David replied, smothering a grin. "But I've been dressing myself without help for several years."

"We'll just watch then," Ty told him cheerfully. "I like watching you dress."

David laughed but didn't offer any more objections as the princes settled down comfortably and waited for the knights to remove their clothing.

The two men quickly stripped off their plain shirts and breeches and replaced them with the black ones the king had provided - thin, supple, leather breeches and finely-woven long-sleeved shirts.

"Nice," David commented as he pulled the shirt over his head and adjusted the collar. He tucked it into his breeches and tried an imaginary sword thrust. "Not too tight. I could fight in this."

"No fighting," Michael told him firmly as he sat down to put on the glossy black leather boots. "We're just supposed to stand there and look threatening, not actually hit anyone."

"He's no fun at all," David complained to the princes and smiled when they laughed. "That's better," he told Ty softly, tipping the young man's chin so he could look into the sapphire eyes. "Relax. It's going to be fine.

"I know," Ty replied trustingly. "And I know we need to make a public appearance and that nobody else is going to know the truth, but..."

"It's going to be fine," Michael repeated, rising to put his hand on Ky's shoulder comfortingly. "We're going to go out there and look very formidable and very intimidating and like we plan on slaying the dragon with one blow. No one will ever suspect what we're really going to do."

"I know." Ky put his hand over the one on his shoulder and smiled up at his knight. "You'd better finished getting dressed. We don't want to be late."

The knights pulled their own thickly padded arming tunics on over the shirts, then their hauberks - knee-length chain mail shirts that had been polished until they gleamed even in the dim lamplight.

Over the hauberks went sleeveless black surcoats edged in silver with the emblem of the Royal Guard blazoned on the chest in matching silver thread.

"What do you think?" David asked as he fastened his black leather swordbelt and settled the sheath in place. "Do we look intimidating?"

"Very," Ty pronounced, reaching out to twitch a fold of the surcoat into place. "I think--"

"Your Highness?" The call was accompanied by a hesitant knock on the door and Ky went to open it.

"What is it, Fendric?" he asked the guardsman waiting outside.

"His Majesty sent for you," Fendric replied. "For both you and the knights."

"Send word that we're on our way," Ty ordered. He took a deep breath as the man hurried away, and turned to the others. "Shall we go?"

Queen Alida swept into the ornately decorated Royal Box with a petulant flounce of her skirts. "Wine!" she demanded, snapping her fingers at a servant standing nearby. Her ladies and gentlemen slipped quietly into the box behind her, hoping to avoid both her notice and her wrath, while her Guard stoically took their positions, ignoring her in favor of scanning the crowd for ill-wishers.

The servant timidly held out a glass of chilled wine and the queen accepted it ungraciously. "My fan!" she demanded next, and one of the ladies hurriedly handed it to her.

She unfurled it with a snap and fanned herself while mentally preparing a scathing reprimand to the fools who had decreed that no carriages enter the Square. They should have known that rule didn't apply to her! As a result of their *asinine* policy, she had been forced to walk almost a full block in the heat, in a dress more appropriate for cool winter days than hot summer ones.

She had chosen the heavy black gown slashed with gold because it was a match for the black slashed with gold that the king would wear today. Not that anyone would notice, she brooded as she sipped the wine, outwardly unconcerned at her location. Inwardly, she still seethed at the circumstances that placed the king and his misbegotten brats on the dais in full view of the crowd, and herself in an insignificant box off to one side. Even the fools crowding the square could see that she was considered an outsider, unworthy of a place with the Royal Family. Not to mention the insult offered by failing to give her adequate warning or informing her what this little spectacle was all about.

Just wait, she thought vindictively, one hand spread across her flat stomach. After those miserable brats had been fed to the dragon, when the king was without an heir and the country was in turmoil, then people would learn just how important she was. When the king was in despair and the people on the edge of revolt, *then* she'd step forward and announce that she carried the future heir, the hope of the country. Then she'd be accepted, the center of all the attention. Then she'd be the one standing on the dais, receiving the accolades of the people.

Feeling much better, she looked out over the crowd, smiling and waving graciously at the peasants who gazed admiringly at her. Around her, her retinue sighed in relief. The temper had abated, with no explosive outbursts and nothing broken or hurled into the waiting crowd.

"More wine, Your Grace?" Thomas D'Vrey asked, drawing the queen's attention to him.

The gossip was taking its toll on him, but he was determined to wait it out. Sooner or later, a new scandal would erupt and people would forget about this one. Meanwhile, he couldn't afford to lose his status with the queen or his place as one of her gentleman. With them he had power and social standing. Without them he was just one more penniless aristocrat. And that position was unacceptable to him.

His question did draw the queen's attention to him, but not quite the way he had planned. Seeing him reminded her that she needed to replace D'Achelle, and possibly D'Vrey, as well. That drew her thoughts to the two knights she intended to replace them with. 'Where were they?', she wondered, eyes narrowing as she searched the stands for them. David would have to be punished for his insolence, of course, but after he was suitably chastened she was prepared to forgive him and allow him a chance to serve her properly. And his friend, while not quite the type she usually chose, would do well enough once he was trained.

She continued to search the crowd until the drums began to beat and a contingent of the Royal Guard marched in and took their places on the stairs to either side of the dais. The drums ceased and the crowd hushed, all eyes on the massive double doors of the temple, waiting expectantly.

With a royal fanfare of trumpets, the doors swung open and the crowd cheered and applauded enthusiastically as the princes appeared. They were also dressed in black and gold, a rich black silk with the sleeves slashed in gold, the queen noted pettishly, And that silk looked a lot cooler than her heavy velvet. Together they advanced to the edge of the dais and waited, on display for their people, until the noise died down. Then they stepped back and apart and, with an even greater flourish of the trumpets, the king stepped out between them.

"Why wouldn't the crowd shut up?" the queen wondered irritably. They hadn't cheered like that when she entered the Royal Box. It was because she'd been shuffled off to the side instead of being announced and in plain view, that's why. The people took their cues from the king; when he ignored her importance, they did too. But that was going to change. She hugged the thought to her as he began to speak.

"My people. As you know, a great calamity has befallen our nation. The Dragon Rohannon has ravaged our countryside and slaughtered our people. The price he has demanded to end the butchery is the sacrifice of my sons, your princes." There were murmurs of mingled grief and outrage from the crowd and he paused to let them die down before continuing. "And they are willing to do this, to make this, the ultimate sacrifice, for you..."

Queen Alida allowed her attention to wander, sure now of what he was going to say. This was all a ploy to raise the peasants' morale, to make them more supportive of the changes that would occur after the princes were gone. More changes than he knew, she thought complacently. She was going over those changes in her mind, lovingly detailing her part in them when the cheering began again. Was he finished already? No, he was still speaking.

"And so, I give you-- the Princes' Champions!"

The queen's gasp of dismay was lost in the enthusiastic cheering of the people around her. 'How could this have happened?' she silently raged. Where could he have found someone stupid enough to--

The two men hidden in the shadowy interior of the Temple came forth, one stepping behind each prince.

"NOOOO!!!"