Heilesheim, at great price. Soon, Ruprecht thought, the price would be even greater. Once his armies had swept the northern lands, bringing their feuding lords into subjugation, he would bleed them dry.
“My lord, the Baron Manfred Culdus and Valdaimon the Great attend you.”
Ruprecht turned around and dismissed the page with a wave of his hand. “Gentlemen. It is time for me to approve the details of our plan. Please, be seated.” With a grand wave of his arm, the Black Prince indicated the two great chairs that had been set near the head of the table, one to the left of his own and one to the tight. “I assume all is in readiness for our... discussions?”
“It is, my lord,” said Culdus, stepping briskly to the chair on the prince’s right and laying his pile of maps on the table. “I have here the final attack plans for your approval.”
Valdaimon, grinning as usual, hobbled to the seat at the prince’s left and placed before him on the table a large ball of clear crystal mounted on a round black metallic base. “I too have some things to show my lord relative to our plans,” he said in his best obsequious voice.
“My plans, Valdaimon,” the youth snapped. “Never forget you are my instrument, not co-owner of my ideas nor co-ruler of my realm. You have served me well in the past, but do not presume upon my favor to tolerate your impertinence.” The Black Prince hopped into his huge, leather-padded wooden seat, threw his feet up on the table atop Culdus’s pile of maps, and smiled, first at Culdus, then at Valdaimon. “But enough of reproaches. Show me how my plans will bring the fulfillment of my prophesied destiny. And, by the way, I’ve heard quite enough of this ‘my lord’ business. We all know my doddering, drooling older brother is never going to recover from his unfortunate lack of intelligence. As of today, I have decided to end my regency and assume the throne in my own right. Valdaimon, you will see to the publication of the appropriate decrees.”
Both men rose quickly and bowed deeply from the waist.
This pup is ready, Valdaimon thought.
Culdus, for his part, sighed with relief. It is fitting to have done with the charade, he thought. A kingdom needs a king. Especially a kingdom about to become a great empire.
Culdus straightened to his full height. “Your Majesty,” he began, tugging at his pile of maps. “Uh, er, if Your Majesty please....”
The Black Prince laughed his high-pitched laugh and lifted his legs, allowing the discomfited soldier to retrieve his pile of parchment. Culdus unfolded the largest of the maps and spread it over the surface of the great table. There laid before Ruprecht was a general plan of the known world, from Heilesheim in the southwest to the Five Ports of the Rhanguilds in the northwest, from the Southern Desert at the eastern boundary of Heilesheim to the spine of the Great Mountains that stretched away to the Kingdom of Parona in the far north. What lay beyond the mountains to the east neither men nor elves knew. In the center of the great map was the real prize: the patchwork quilt of duchies and baronies, provinces and minor kingdoms between the rivers Rigel and Pragal—practically a world unto itself—that contained the most fertile lands in all the earth and more than three score cities richer than any others save those of Heilesheim itself.
By themselves none of the cities, baronies, duchies, or kingdoms of the Land Between the Rivers (so it was called) was a great military force. What might they did have was often squandered in the endless series of wars, blood feuds, and border disputes that made every map of the area obsolete by the time the cartographer’s hand had finished it. But these many score of petty states did have a loose confederation, termed the Holy Alliance, by means of which they had in the past repelled invasion from without and suppressed anyone of their number who grew too powerful within. It was to the conquest of
“My lord, the Baron Manfred Culdus and Valdaimon the Great attend you.”
Ruprecht turned around and dismissed the page with a wave of his hand. “Gentlemen. It is time for me to approve the details of our plan. Please, be seated.” With a grand wave of his arm, the Black Prince indicated the two great chairs that had been set near the head of the table, one to the left of his own and one to the tight. “I assume all is in readiness for our... discussions?”
“It is, my lord,” said Culdus, stepping briskly to the chair on the prince’s right and laying his pile of maps on the table. “I have here the final attack plans for your approval.”
Valdaimon, grinning as usual, hobbled to the seat at the prince’s left and placed before him on the table a large ball of clear crystal mounted on a round black metallic base. “I too have some things to show my lord relative to our plans,” he said in his best obsequious voice.
“My plans, Valdaimon,” the youth snapped. “Never forget you are my instrument, not co-owner of my ideas nor co-ruler of my realm. You have served me well in the past, but do not presume upon my favor to tolerate your impertinence.” The Black Prince hopped into his huge, leather-padded wooden seat, threw his feet up on the table atop Culdus’s pile of maps, and smiled, first at Culdus, then at Valdaimon. “But enough of reproaches. Show me how my plans will bring the fulfillment of my prophesied destiny. And, by the way, I’ve heard quite enough of this ‘my lord’ business. We all know my doddering, drooling older brother is never going to recover from his unfortunate lack of intelligence. As of today, I have decided to end my regency and assume the throne in my own right. Valdaimon, you will see to the publication of the appropriate decrees.”
Both men rose quickly and bowed deeply from the waist.
This pup is ready, Valdaimon thought.
Culdus, for his part, sighed with relief. It is fitting to have done with the charade, he thought. A kingdom needs a king. Especially a kingdom about to become a great empire.
Culdus straightened to his full height. “Your Majesty,” he began, tugging at his pile of maps. “Uh, er, if Your Majesty please....”
The Black Prince laughed his high-pitched laugh and lifted his legs, allowing the discomfited soldier to retrieve his pile of parchment. Culdus unfolded the largest of the maps and spread it over the surface of the great table. There laid before Ruprecht was a general plan of the known world, from Heilesheim in the southwest to the Five Ports of the Rhanguilds in the northwest, from the Southern Desert at the eastern boundary of Heilesheim to the spine of the Great Mountains that stretched away to the Kingdom of Parona in the far north. What lay beyond the mountains to the east neither men nor elves knew. In the center of the great map was the real prize: the patchwork quilt of duchies and baronies, provinces and minor kingdoms between the rivers Rigel and Pragal—practically a world unto itself—that contained the most fertile lands in all the earth and more than three score cities richer than any others save those of Heilesheim itself.
By themselves none of the cities, baronies, duchies, or kingdoms of the Land Between the Rivers (so it was called) was a great military force. What might they did have was often squandered in the endless series of wars, blood feuds, and border disputes that made every map of the area obsolete by the time the cartographer’s hand had finished it. But these many score of petty states did have a loose confederation, termed the Holy Alliance, by means of which they had in the past repelled invasion from without and suppressed anyone of their number who grew too powerful within. It was to the conquest of
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