Octobers Baby by Glen Cook Page B

university considered a noble preserve.
    It had begun without Tarlson’s knowledge, during his unconsciousness. There had been strong opposition, which was stronger now. Gjerdrum had outperformed his classmates. Though Tarlson felt immensely honored, he feared he would have to ask the boy to withdraw.
    He felt a quirk of irritation. It startled him. It wasn’t like him to feel antagonism over accidents of birth. Still, they couldn’t accuse him of ambition. He had never asked honors or titles, only the opportunity to serve.
    “Maybe. But I’m sure it’s a memory from this life. I’ll find the handle someday.” After a long pause, “I have to. I’m the only one who. saw them all.”
    “Eanred, tell the King. Don’t take everything on yourself.”
    “Maybe.” He considered it.
    Weeks passed before he spoke with the Krief. The occasion was his induction into the Order of the Royal Star, the Crown’s household knights. The endowment was hereditary and carried a small living.
    The Nordmen were bitter. But their opposition remained muted. The ceremony took place in Vorgre-berg, where Tarlson was immensely popular.
    He could be put in his place when the mad King died. Afterward, in his private-audience chamber, the Krief asked, “Eanred, how are you? I’ve heard the pressure’s bothering you.”
    “Fine, Sire. Never better.” “1 don’t believe it. You showed nerves today.” “Sire?”
    “Eanred, you’re the only loyal subject I’ve got. You’re invaluable as champion, but worth immeasurably more as a symbol. Why do you think the barons hate you? Your very existence makes their treasons more obvious. They resist honoring you because it makes you more promi-nent, makes your loyalty a greater example to the lower classes. And that’s why I refuse to let you take Gjerdrum out of the Rebsamen.” Tarlson was startled.
    The King chuckled. “Thought you had that in mind. In character. Bring me a brandy, will you?”
    While Tarlson poured, the Krief continued, “Eanred, I don’t have much time left. Three or four years. If I do things that seem strange, don’t be surprised. I’m chasing a grand plan. So the scramble for succession won’t destroy Kavelin. Thank you. Pour one for yourself.” For several minutes he sipped quietly while Tarlson waited.
    “Eanred, when I’m gone, will you support the Queen?” “Need you ask, Sire?”
    “No, but I don’t envy you the task. My remotest cousins will be after the Crown. You’ll have no support.” “Nevertheless...” He remembered his wife’s sugges-tion. “Maybe if we found the true Prince...”
    “Ah. You know. I guess everyone does. But it’s not that easy. There’re facts known only to myself and the Queen. And the kidnappers. Eanred, the Prince was a girl. Fool that I was, I thought we could pretend otherwise...”
    : Tarlson dropped into a chair. “Sire, I’m a simple man. This’s a bit complicated... But there’s something I’ve got to tell you. It may help.” He described what he had seen the night of the abduction.
    “The Captal,” the Krief said when Eanred finished. “I suspected it. The creatures in the tower, you know. But I kept asking myself, what did he have to gain? Now I wonder if he was a willing accomplice, or under duress? I’ve no ideas about your attacker. He must’ve been a Power...”
    “You haven’t investigated?” The puzzle had been answered. The old man had been the Captal of Savernake. Eanred had seen him briefly during the wars.
    “I had my reasons. For now I have a son, though he’ll never be King. Meanwhile, I keep hoping there’ll be an acceptable heir...” For a moment his face expressed intense anguish. “The girl’s no more my blood than the changeling.”
    “Sire?”
    “Don’t know how it was managed. But I didn’t father the child. Haven’t had the capacity since the wars. No need to be shocked, Eanred. I’ve managed to live with it. As has the Queen, though she wasn’t told till