A Victory for Kregen Read Online Free PDF

their new masters rode them at night and rested them by day here.
    “I feel sure you are right, Tyfar. We follow their tracks, I believe, although the wind wipes them out smartly enough.”
    “Once I am back in Hamal — once we are both there, Jak — you do not forget my invitation to a bladesman’s night out in the Sacred Quarter?”
    “I do not. I anticipate it with relish.”
    By Vox! Did I not!
    What, I wondered, would he say if I said, quite casually, “Oh, and, Prince Tyfar of Hamal, by the way, I am Dray Prescot, Emperor of Vallia, the chief of your country’s sworn enemies?”
    That, I felt, would repay in the glory of his face much discomfort.
    But, of course, he would not believe me.
    How could he?
    He would think I jested with him, and in damned poor taste, into the bargain.
    He knew nothing of me, save what I had told him, and that was going to have to be altered, soon. He would ask what on Kregen the Emperor of Vallia, the great rast, was doing down here in the Dawn Lands of Havilfar. That was, by Vox, a good question. Tyfar knew nothing of the Star Lords and their engaging habit of putting me into situations of peril in order to affect the future course of the world.
    Well, I had done the Star Lords’ bidding here and was now free to return home to Vallia. I longed to get back, to see Delia again and my comrades and what of my family deigned to show up when their grizzly old graint of a father returned from one of his wild jaunts over the world. There was so much still to be done in Vallia it defied all common-sense evaluation. The island was split by war and factions; the people had called on me, had fetched me to be their emperor, and I was in duty bound to honor that trust and that demand. The island would be united and healed. Then I would hand it all over to my fine son Drak, and with a thankful sigh shake the reins of empire from my sticky hands.
    And, make no mistake, this was what I intended to do.
    All the same, Drak was in Vallia now, and I had many outstanding councilors and generals. I could leave the country to get on well enough without me for a space.
    For — I had other fish to fry.
    Down here in the Dawn Lands I was not too far away from Migladrin, from Herrelldrin, from Djanduin.
    Also, in the opposite direction lay Hyrklana. In all these lands I had business.
     
    “Jak!”
    I did not jump. I realized I had been sitting brooding on the Wizard of Loh.
    “By the Seven Arcades, Jak! You were far gone in your thoughts — I did not pry,” he added, quickly. I did not wish to understand just what he meant, although the gist was plain enough. I did not smile; but I was aware of an easing in the graven lines on my craggy old beakhead of a face.
    “Yes, Quienyin, I was thinking. Prince Tyfar would like news of his family and friends, and I do not doubt the others of us nine would, also.”
    “And you?”
    “Yes.”
    He nodded, half to himself.
    “You miss Hyrklana, Jak?”
    Before I could open my mouth — for thus suddenly had come up the change in the story of myself that Prince Tyfar of Hamal must know — the prince spoke.
    “Hyrklana? That nest of pirates? What has that to do with you, Jak of Djanduin?”
    I sighed. There, displayed before me, was the reckoning for the sin of lying about one’s origins and playing at cloak and dagger for the fun of it. I had told Quienyin I hailed from Hyrklana, that large and independent island kingdom off the east coast of the continent of Havilfar, and I had told Tyfar I came from Djanduin, the remote, massive peninsula in the far south and west of the continent.
    And, as you know, I had not lied in saying I was from Djanduin. I never forget I am King of Djanduin.
    Usually, it is not particularly helpful in maintaining a good cloak and dagger cover to say you come from a country you know nothing of and have never visited.
    Dressed up in a disguise and wearing a gray mask, I had successfully convinced Lobur the Dagger, one of Tyfar’s