discussed. However, as usual, they were less inclined to talk about their studies than the news in the latest issue of
The Fox
.
“It’s criminal, that’s what it is,” Curren Talinger said, thumping the table so that they all had to grasp their cups and saucers to keep them from flying off. “It’s positively criminal what they’re doing.”
Eldyn shook his head; he hadn’t read the broadsheets in several days. “What
who
is doing?”
“The criminals, I should imagine,” Orris Jaimsley replied with a bent grin. “They’re usually the ones who perpetrate the crimes.”
“Oh, they’re criminals, all right,” Talinger went on, clearly in a mood for oration. His red hair belied his Westland heritage. That and his temper: the table received another blow from a meaty fist that seemed better suited to a workman than a student of philosophy. “They’d make the king crawl on his belly and beg just to build a ship to defend Altania’s shores. But the swine are running things now, and we have only ourselves to blame for it. We’re the ones who put them on top.”
“I don’t remember voting for a Sir Hogg or a Mr. Porkly in the last election,” Eldyn said, returning Jaimsley’s grin.
“I think he’s referring to members of Assembly,” Dalby Warrett said, as usual not getting the joke.
“Then he’s insulted swine everywhere,” Jaimsley proclaimed. He was a gangly young man who more than made up for his homely looks with an appealing wit. No one was more popular at St. Berndyn’s.
“Really, Talinger, do you think this new act is so bad as all that?” Warrett said when their mirth had subsided. He had a face that, while well wrought, was too placid to be handsome; he was forever attempting to throw water on Talinger’s fires. “The Hall of Magnates has committed worse crimes than this of late. Besides, Assembly has always held the kingdom’s purse strings.”
“Held them?” Talinger shook his head. “More like clutched them tight and knotted them shut, while at the same time slitting a hole in the bottom of the purse. They build walls around their manors to protect them, but they won’t let the king build a ship to protect our country.”
“Protect our country from what?” Jaimsley said with a roll of his eyes. “There’s been peace with the Murgh Empire for half a century. And even if they decided to invade tomorrow, do you really think you could trust our king to keep Altania safe?”
Talinger had to concede the point. “Maybe not King Rothard. He was already weak before he got ill. He never should have given up so much ground to Assembly. But if we had a strong king, a rightful king…”
Jaimsley gave him a sharp look. “What are you saying?”
“All I’m saying is…” Even Talinger had the sense to lower his voice, noisy as the coffeehouse was. “All I’m saying is that if
Somebody
was ever to come back to Altania, he would put an end to these sorts of problems. You can bet
Somebody
would stop the magnates from raiding Altania’s coffers and leaving nothing for the common folk, and you can bet he would put Assembly in its place. And if the princess married
Somebody,
then no one could complain the crown wasn’t rightfully his.”
Warrett’s cup clattered against his saucer, and Eldyn cast a glance over his shoulder. What Talinger had said was dangerously close to treason, and the Gray Conclave had spies everywhere.
“Oh, dry your breeches, Warrett,” Talinger said. “I didn’t speak a name. Even if the Black Dog’s men are sniffing about, there’s nothing they can do. All I said was
Somebody.
”
Yes. And Eldyn, just like everyone else, knew that
Somebody
meant not just anybody but rather Huntley Morden—grandson of the Old Usurper, Bandley Morden—who rumor told dwelled in the court of a Murghese prince, waiting for the right wind to blow him and the fleet of ships he was building east across the sea to the shores of Altania so he might seize the throne his
The Fox
.
“It’s criminal, that’s what it is,” Curren Talinger said, thumping the table so that they all had to grasp their cups and saucers to keep them from flying off. “It’s positively criminal what they’re doing.”
Eldyn shook his head; he hadn’t read the broadsheets in several days. “What
who
is doing?”
“The criminals, I should imagine,” Orris Jaimsley replied with a bent grin. “They’re usually the ones who perpetrate the crimes.”
“Oh, they’re criminals, all right,” Talinger went on, clearly in a mood for oration. His red hair belied his Westland heritage. That and his temper: the table received another blow from a meaty fist that seemed better suited to a workman than a student of philosophy. “They’d make the king crawl on his belly and beg just to build a ship to defend Altania’s shores. But the swine are running things now, and we have only ourselves to blame for it. We’re the ones who put them on top.”
“I don’t remember voting for a Sir Hogg or a Mr. Porkly in the last election,” Eldyn said, returning Jaimsley’s grin.
“I think he’s referring to members of Assembly,” Dalby Warrett said, as usual not getting the joke.
“Then he’s insulted swine everywhere,” Jaimsley proclaimed. He was a gangly young man who more than made up for his homely looks with an appealing wit. No one was more popular at St. Berndyn’s.
“Really, Talinger, do you think this new act is so bad as all that?” Warrett said when their mirth had subsided. He had a face that, while well wrought, was too placid to be handsome; he was forever attempting to throw water on Talinger’s fires. “The Hall of Magnates has committed worse crimes than this of late. Besides, Assembly has always held the kingdom’s purse strings.”
“Held them?” Talinger shook his head. “More like clutched them tight and knotted them shut, while at the same time slitting a hole in the bottom of the purse. They build walls around their manors to protect them, but they won’t let the king build a ship to protect our country.”
“Protect our country from what?” Jaimsley said with a roll of his eyes. “There’s been peace with the Murgh Empire for half a century. And even if they decided to invade tomorrow, do you really think you could trust our king to keep Altania safe?”
Talinger had to concede the point. “Maybe not King Rothard. He was already weak before he got ill. He never should have given up so much ground to Assembly. But if we had a strong king, a rightful king…”
Jaimsley gave him a sharp look. “What are you saying?”
“All I’m saying is…” Even Talinger had the sense to lower his voice, noisy as the coffeehouse was. “All I’m saying is that if
Somebody
was ever to come back to Altania, he would put an end to these sorts of problems. You can bet
Somebody
would stop the magnates from raiding Altania’s coffers and leaving nothing for the common folk, and you can bet he would put Assembly in its place. And if the princess married
Somebody,
then no one could complain the crown wasn’t rightfully his.”
Warrett’s cup clattered against his saucer, and Eldyn cast a glance over his shoulder. What Talinger had said was dangerously close to treason, and the Gray Conclave had spies everywhere.
“Oh, dry your breeches, Warrett,” Talinger said. “I didn’t speak a name. Even if the Black Dog’s men are sniffing about, there’s nothing they can do. All I said was
Somebody.
”
Yes. And Eldyn, just like everyone else, knew that
Somebody
meant not just anybody but rather Huntley Morden—grandson of the Old Usurper, Bandley Morden—who rumor told dwelled in the court of a Murghese prince, waiting for the right wind to blow him and the fleet of ships he was building east across the sea to the shores of Altania so he might seize the throne his
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