spellsinger universe

"Moreover, your Grace," he continued, "I'm familiar with all the

holdings of the kingdom. If I'm not mistaken, the district of Erat is an

earldom, and the Earl of Erat is a short, stout man - my great uncle

incidentally. There has been no duchy in that part of Sendaria since the

kingdom was under the dominion of the Wacite Arends."

Aunt Pol fixed him with an icy stare.

"My Lady," Brendig said almost apologetically, "the Wacite Arends

were exterminated by their Asturian cousins in the last years of the

third millenium. There has been no Wacite nobility for over two thousand

years."

"I thank you for the history lesson, my Lord," Aunt Pol said coldly.

"All of that, however, is hardly the issue, is it?" Brendig

continued. "I am bidden by my king to seek out the man of whom I spoke.

Upon your honor, Lady, do you know such a man?"

The question hung in the air between them, and Garion, knowing in sudden panic that they were caught, almost shouted for Barak.

Then the door to the next chamber opened, and Mister Wolf stepped

into the room. "There's no need to continue with this," he said. "I'm

the one you're looking for. What does Fulrach of Sendaria want with me?"

Brendig looked at him without seeming surprise. "His Majesty did not

see fit to take me into his confidence," he said. "He will explain it

himself, I have no doubt, as soon as we reach the palace at Sendar."

"The sooner the better then," Wolf said. "When do we leave?"

"We depart for Sendar directly after breakfast in the morning,"

Brendig said. "I will accept your word that none of you will attempt to

leave this inn during the night. I'd prefer not to subject the Duchess

of Erat to the indignity of confinement at the local barracks. The cells

there are most uncomfortable, I'm told."

"You have my word," Mister Wolf said.

"Thank you," Brendig said, bowing slightly. "I must also advise you

that I am obliged to post guards about this inn - for your protection,

of course."

"Your solicitude overwhelms us, my Lord," Aunt Pol said dryly.

"Your servant, my Lady," Brendig said with a formal bow. And then he turned and left the room.

The polished door was only wood; Garion knew that, but as it closed

behind the departing Brendig it seemed to have that dreadful, final

clang of the door to a dungeon.

Part one sendaria Chapter Eleven

THEY WERE NINE DAYS on the coast road from Camaar to the capital at

Sendar, though it was only fifty-five leagues. Captain Brendig measured

their pace carefully, and his detachment of soldiers was arranged in

such fashion that even the thought of escape was impossible. Although it

had stopped snowing, the road was still difficult, and the wind which

blew in off the sea and across the broad, snow-covered salt marshes was

raw and chill. They stayed each night in the evenly spaced Sendarian

hostels which stood like mileposts along that uninhabited stretch of

coast. The hostels were not quite so well appointed as were their

Tolnedran counterparts along the Great North Road, but they were at

least adequate. Captain Brendig seemed solicitous about their comfort,

but he also posted guards each night.On the evening of the second day,

Garion sat near the fire with Durnik, staring moodily into the flames.

Durnik was his oldest friend, and Garion felt a desperate need for

friendship just then.

"Durnik," he said finally.

"Yes, lad?"

"Have you ever been in a dungeon?"

"What could I have done to be put in a dungeon?"

"I thought that you might have seen one sometime."

"Honest folk don't go near such places," Durnik said.

"I've heard they're awful-dark and cold and full of rats."

"What is this talk of dungeons?" Durnik asked.

"I'm afraid we may find out all about places like that very soon," Garion said, trying not to sound too frightened.

"We've done nothing wrong," Durnik said.

"Then why would the king have us seized like this? Kings don't do things like that without good reason."

"We haven't done anything wrong," Durnik repeated stubbornly.

"But maybe Mister Wolf has," Garion suggested. "The king wouldn't

send all these soldiers after him without some reason - and we could all

be thrown in the dungeon with him just because we happened to be his

companions."

"Thing like that don't happen in Sendaria," Durnik said firmly.

The next day the wind was very strong as it blew in off the sea; but

it was a warm wind, and the foot-deep snow on the road began to turn

slushy. By midday it had started to rain. They rode in sodden misery

toward the next hostel.

"I'm afraid we'll have to delay our journey until this blows out,"

Captain Brendig said that evening, looking out one of the tiny windows

of the hostel. "The road's going to be quite impassable by morning."

They spent the next day, and the next, sitting in the cramped main

room of the hostel listening to the wind-driven rain slashing at the

walls and roof, all the while under the watchful eyes of Brendig and his

soldiers.

"Silk," Garion said on the second day, moving over to the bench where the rat-faced little man sat dozing.

"Yes, Garion?" Silk asked, rousing himself.

"What kind of man is the king?"

"Which king?"

"Of Sendaria."

"A foolish man - like all kings." Silk laughed. "The Sendarian kings

are perhaps a bit more foolish, but that's only natural. Why do you

ask?"

"Well" Garion hesitated. "Let's suppose that somebody did something

that the king didn't like, and there were some other people traveling

with him, and the king had these people seized. Would the king just

throw them all into the dungeon? Or would he let the others go and just

keep the one who'd angered him?"

Silk looked at him for a moment and then spoke firmly.

"That question is unworthy of you, Garion."

Garion flushed. "

I'm afraid of dungeons," he said in a small voice, suddenly very

ashamed of himself. "I don't want to be locked up in the dark forever

when I don't even know what for."

"The kings of Sendaria are just and honest men," Silk told him. "Not too bright, I'm afraid, but always fair."

"How can they be kings if they aren't wise?" Garion objected.

"Wisdom's a useful trait in a king," Silk said, "but hardly essential."

"How do they get to be kings, then?" Garion demanded.

"Some are born to it," Silk said. "The stupidest man in the world can

be a king if he has the right parents. Sendarian kings have a

disadvantage because they started so low."