could win him some respite during the day, but then overnight he would grow sicker still.”
Xander bowed his head, accepting the ill news with a clucking of his tongue. “To be sure he and I had our disagreements, but I would never have wished him such ill. The loss of dignity must have pained him greatly?” He let a moment pass in memory of his father before striking out with a more hopeful enquiry. “But what of Lord Matteus, how has he fared in his new fiefdom?”
Udecht’s eyes were hooded with despair as his brother struck unerringly on another sourc e of bad tidings. “Oh brother, would I could say it were not so, but events have proven your judgement right. The man was unequal to the task of rulership. The entire province of Undersalve has fallen.”
“Fallen ? How and to whom?” Xander’s shock was almost tangible.
“The desert nomads grew stronger, gathered allies, some say orcs though I credit it not, this work was too well organised for their kind. Matteus tried and failed to hold them back. He was slain in battle at a place called Bledrag. His daughter perished also and with her ended his short lived princely line. Undersalve was overrun. Now we count but four human provinces of the Kingdom of the Salved while it is left to the Elves of Hershwood and the Dwarves of the Hadran mountains to guard our kingdom’s new Southern flank.”
“Together with the host of Medyrsalve of course,” Xander challenged his brother’s analysis.
The corners of Udecht’s mouth twitched in discomfort. “Prince Rugan has lived and ruled a very long time, Brother as you know, and he has not survived so long by taking risks with his wealth or his armies.”
Xander scowled . “Half breed bastard. There’s another one should never have been allowed to set his arse on a provincial throne.”
“You know brother, I was always on your part in that argument,” Udecht whispered. “Had U ndersalve only been led by you, a direct descendant of the bloodline of Eadran the Vanquisher, then I am sure much evil would have been avoided.”
“I said as much and often enough from the moment that throne fell vacant,” Xander growled.
“I was not part of the final counsels that our father took. It was not even the full council of the nine, or as it was eight princes, that he spoke with. Only Feyril of Hershwood and Gregor our brother were there to persuade him. I cannot imagine what false arguments they must have presented.”
The sacristy fell silent as bo th brothers relived the debates and anguish of a tumultuous year gone by. Xander was deepest in a reverie he made no move to break. “Was that a part of it?” Udecht asked, trying to draw out the promised reciprocity of Xander’s account of their years apart. “It was barely a year after Matteus was awarded the province that you disappeared?”
Xander shook his head with a shiver that ran down to his shoulders as though throwing off some feared memory. Udecht hurried on. “Haselrig vanished at the same time. Much came out afterwards about what that man had been up to. Missing gold was the least of it. And then there was the dungeon guard that left his post. Were they in league? Did they spirit you away?”
Xander sighed. “Brother I was a fool, a blind angry fool and I have paid dearly for my folly, methinks more dearly even than Eadran himself in his hubris. But I have not been idle these years gone by.“ His fingers were twitching, flicking, with a dexterity that was surprising to Udecht, given the injuries Xander’s hands had suffered.
As the B ishop raised his eyes to meet his brother’s gaze he saw that Xander was smiling, grinning broadly. He raised a finger to point at Udecht’s chest and announced in a steady sonorous voice quite unlike his usual tone, “vos sile Udecht!”
Udecht was stunned. T he forbidden tongue of mages coming from his brother’s mouth. At first he even thought it was the surprise that
Xander bowed his head, accepting the ill news with a clucking of his tongue. “To be sure he and I had our disagreements, but I would never have wished him such ill. The loss of dignity must have pained him greatly?” He let a moment pass in memory of his father before striking out with a more hopeful enquiry. “But what of Lord Matteus, how has he fared in his new fiefdom?”
Udecht’s eyes were hooded with despair as his brother struck unerringly on another sourc e of bad tidings. “Oh brother, would I could say it were not so, but events have proven your judgement right. The man was unequal to the task of rulership. The entire province of Undersalve has fallen.”
“Fallen ? How and to whom?” Xander’s shock was almost tangible.
“The desert nomads grew stronger, gathered allies, some say orcs though I credit it not, this work was too well organised for their kind. Matteus tried and failed to hold them back. He was slain in battle at a place called Bledrag. His daughter perished also and with her ended his short lived princely line. Undersalve was overrun. Now we count but four human provinces of the Kingdom of the Salved while it is left to the Elves of Hershwood and the Dwarves of the Hadran mountains to guard our kingdom’s new Southern flank.”
“Together with the host of Medyrsalve of course,” Xander challenged his brother’s analysis.
The corners of Udecht’s mouth twitched in discomfort. “Prince Rugan has lived and ruled a very long time, Brother as you know, and he has not survived so long by taking risks with his wealth or his armies.”
Xander scowled . “Half breed bastard. There’s another one should never have been allowed to set his arse on a provincial throne.”
“You know brother, I was always on your part in that argument,” Udecht whispered. “Had U ndersalve only been led by you, a direct descendant of the bloodline of Eadran the Vanquisher, then I am sure much evil would have been avoided.”
“I said as much and often enough from the moment that throne fell vacant,” Xander growled.
“I was not part of the final counsels that our father took. It was not even the full council of the nine, or as it was eight princes, that he spoke with. Only Feyril of Hershwood and Gregor our brother were there to persuade him. I cannot imagine what false arguments they must have presented.”
The sacristy fell silent as bo th brothers relived the debates and anguish of a tumultuous year gone by. Xander was deepest in a reverie he made no move to break. “Was that a part of it?” Udecht asked, trying to draw out the promised reciprocity of Xander’s account of their years apart. “It was barely a year after Matteus was awarded the province that you disappeared?”
Xander shook his head with a shiver that ran down to his shoulders as though throwing off some feared memory. Udecht hurried on. “Haselrig vanished at the same time. Much came out afterwards about what that man had been up to. Missing gold was the least of it. And then there was the dungeon guard that left his post. Were they in league? Did they spirit you away?”
Xander sighed. “Brother I was a fool, a blind angry fool and I have paid dearly for my folly, methinks more dearly even than Eadran himself in his hubris. But I have not been idle these years gone by.“ His fingers were twitching, flicking, with a dexterity that was surprising to Udecht, given the injuries Xander’s hands had suffered.
As the B ishop raised his eyes to meet his brother’s gaze he saw that Xander was smiling, grinning broadly. He raised a finger to point at Udecht’s chest and announced in a steady sonorous voice quite unlike his usual tone, “vos sile Udecht!”
Udecht was stunned. T he forbidden tongue of mages coming from his brother’s mouth. At first he even thought it was the surprise that
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