Master of the Cauldron Read Online Free PDF

the earl’s professional troops, and he leads the left wing in a battle.”
    Garric followed the line of Liane’s gaze. He could see the standard, a pole supporting a gilt bird with its wings spread. His eyes were as good asanybody in the borough’s, but he couldn’t have told it was a crow. Liane was probably guessing.
    But possibly not. It was never a good idea to underestimate Liane.
    Lady Liane bos-Benliman was dark-haired, gently curved, and as obviously aristocratic as she was beautiful. Her father Benlo had been a successful merchant, widely traveled in the Isles and perhaps beyond.
    He’d been a wizard as well. Wizardry had cost him his honor, his life, and finally his soul.
    Liane had gained a fine education before her father’s disgrace. She retained that, along with a powerful intelligence and Benlo’s network of contacts throughout the known world. She’d made herself Garric’s confidential secretary and his spymaster, carrying out both sets of duties with a skill he couldn’t imagine anyone else equaling. That Liane loved him was to Garric a greater wonder than the fact he shared his mind with his ancient ancestor.
    â€œIs Renold a sensible man?” Garric asked. “Because if he is, he’ll see immediately that my offer—the kingdom’s offer—is reasonable given the balance of forces. If he does, then this can be a basically pleasant meeting.”
    â€œReasonable or not,” said Liane with a sniff, “your offer’s the earl’s only chance of survival. Unfortunately from what I can gather Renold is very similar to his master, and Earl Wildulf is barely intelligent enough to pull his breeches on before his boots!”
    She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes toward the far shore, obviously embarrassed at her outburst. Liane shared a personality flaw with some other smart people Garric knew: she became genuinely angry when she had to deal with folks who refused to demonstrate common sense.
    â€œShe wouldn’t do for a politician, lad,” Carus commented from the back of Garric’s mind. “But then, neither did I. She’s not in charge, as unfortunately I was.”
    â€œI think we’ll be able to work matters out with the earl in adequate fashion,” Garric said, smiling toward Liane but speaking to his ancestor as well. “I don’t doubt his pride, but he didn’t rebel when we—”
    And by “we,” he meant the royal fleet and army.
    â€œâ€”had other things to occupy us during the past year. He and I will manage to agree.”
    Carus laughed cheerfully, seeing the mass of fears and indecision that roiled in Garric’s mind while he calmly predicted success. Garric smiled also, at himself. He’d said the politic thing, after all. That it was more likelythan not true was in a way beside the point; and that the uncertain future terrified him had nothing to do with the matter at all.
    Ordinarily Garric expected to meet local dignitaries in their mansions or in public areas designed for the purpose. Negotiating among the ruins of Volita created some problems that Garric’s staff had solved with impressive professionalism. A crew under the bosun of Admiral Zettin’s flagship was raising a great marquee under which Garric and the Sandrakkan envoys could negotiate.
    The fleet was equipped strictly as a fighting force; it didn’t carry tents for the common soldiers, let alone the trappings of luxury that some nobles thought were required even while on campaign. The marquee’d been stitched together from the mainsails of several triremes and trimmed with signal flags for color. The sailors—soldiers weren’t used to working with spans of fabric so great—used the concave ruin of a domed building for a back wall and had supported the front of the canvas with spars. The work of raising it was almost complete.
    Garric turned to his aide, Lord