The Wizard King Read Online Free PDF Page B

since it happened.” She poured herself a cup of tea and joined Hedric and Jaren at the table, passing her eyes over the staggering array of books and scrolls that they had brought with them from Reyka. “It looks as if you brought your entire library.”
    “Not exactly,” Hedric replied. “Some of these are from my own collection, but most came from the archives at Wizard’s College in Tenosce. I told Overlord Basil what I was looking for and he set a small army of students to the task. Basil has only a small circle of intimate friends,” Hedric felt obliged to explain, knowing how rare it was for the normally irascible wizard to do anything so magnanimous, “but he counts Prince Nicolas among them.”
    Hedric picked up one of the older scrolls and smiled. “Confidentially, I suspect that our bounty is partially due to Basil’s ‘volunteers’ being too terrified to come up empty-handed. In addition to the spell of compulsion, Basil’s contingent of scholars turned up some references to the Sarian cult—specifically the prophecy that spawned them—and a bit about the Rite of Challenge by which they choose a new leader. Basil brought the lot of it to Ath Luaine scarcely a fortnight later and even offered to fill in for me at Osfonin’s court while I’m gone.”
    Jaren grinned broadly. “I suspect Lord Basil is happier about that arrangement than his Majesty. Osfonin respects his rank as Overlord of the Circle, but thinks Basil is rather… well, stuffy.”
    Hedric emitted a dry chuckle. “Osfonin has always been a shrewd judge of character. Oh, that reminds me,” he went on, turning to Athaya, “Prince Felgin sends his fervent hopes for Nicolas’ recovery. He wanted to pay a personal visit, but Osfonin is quite serious about keeping his eldest son close at heel until he’s safely married. And Queen Cecile is endearing herself to Osfonin—if not as much to Felgin—by spending her days in exile helping the prince make his choice of bride.”
    Athaya’s smile was bittersweet, glad that the Caithan queen was making the best of her unfortunate situation. Cecile and her two children had fled to the sanctuary of the Reykan capital once it was no longer safe for them in Caithe. Not only would the Sage be a threat to young Prince Mailen—if he was willing to murder Durek, why not Durek’s heir?—but Cecile’s well-known friendship with Athaya had spurred the Tribunal to suspect her involvement with the attempt on Durek’s life. Rather than offer explanations that the king and his Justices were in no humor to hear, Cecile chose to flee. In Reyka, at least, she could teach her son and daughter not to despise the Lorngeld for what they were. Under Durek’s guidance, they would learn nothing so charitable.
    “Will she be happy there? It might be a long time before it’s safe for her to come home again.”
    “She is content. The Reykan court has always proved a hospitable shelter to runaway Trelanes,” Hedric remarked, the twinkle in his eye reminding Athaya of her own exile there less than two years ago. “If she has one regret, it is the fate of Lord Gessinger. She yearns for word that he is alive and well.”
    Athaya nodded in empathy; she would like to receive the same news herself. After acting as a decoy to ease Cecile’s escape, Mosel Gessinger had been imprisoned in Delfar Castle and, like Ranulf, not heard from since.
    “But Cecile is not as eager to return as you might think,” Hedric added. “Before Jaren and I left, she sent a letter to Durek, telling him in rather pointed terms that she would not have her children raised in a land defiled by the Tribunal’s brand of justice, and that if he continued to abuse the Lorngeld and not let them live in peace, then she and the children would return to Caithe only upon news of his death.”
    “I’d hate to think that his death is the only solution to this problem,” Athaya said solemnly. Over the years, she had argued with Durek, cursed him,