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JANE ELLEN HARRISON ANCIENT ART AND RITUAL
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at the still-warm flesh, finds strength for living. Only when she is sated
does she stop growling the others back from her right. Only then do her
parents call the rest of the pack to share the bounty.
When they are finished, there is doe no longer, not even bones, for these have
been cracked for their marrow and the splintered segments chewed into dust. A
single doe isn t much to the hunger of a wolf pack. Before the night is over,
they will hunt again, a two-legged wolf running beside them, eager now to be
in on the kill.
XVII
After three days residence in Hope, Prince Newell Shield flattered himself
that he understood the budding political situation better than any of the
central players. Although a century of sporadic warfare following hard upon
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the chaos of civil war had brewed hatreds between Bright Bay and Hawk Haven,
largely these were personal hatreds for the ugly deeds done in battle or of
one person for another not the terrible abstract fear and horror with which
both night fears and some enemies were regarded.
Perhaps this was because legends of the Old Country monarchs who wore crowns
carved from skulls and wielded scepters worked from human thighbones remained
fresh real enough to raise thrills of terror when some old grand could say,
It was in my own grandmother s day that this was so, and be right.
Perhaps this lack of hatred was because the goal of these battles, skirmishes,
and frays had always been reunification, not conquest. When monarchs strove to
bring the errant sheep back into the fold, they could not resort to the
rhetoric of hatred and alienation lest this raise doubts in their people s
minds as to the wisdom of reunification. With eager predators prowling on the
fringes, neither Bright Bay nor Hawk
Haven could risk razed countryside and slaughter of local inhabitants. Too
easily then would the conqueror find itself in danger of conquest as it sought
to solidify its expanded holdings.
Did anyone but himself realize that those who feared and hated were the very
allies who supported one side or the other while really supporting none but
themselves?
Prince Newell sniggered into his pewter tankard of ale. Blind! Blind! That was
what both Tedric and
Gustin IV were. As their predecessors had done, they accepted aid from nations
who in their most secret hearts desired not their allies success but their
failure.
Still laughing quietly to himself, Newell rubbed his fingers along his
temples, delighting in the clarity of his vision. He, he alone had wisdom! The
rest were as blinkered horses dragging their burdens through crowded city
streets, as sheep who blindly followed the slaughterhouse goat to their own
deaths!
Should such willfully ignorant creatures have the rulership over thousands of
souls? Ancestors, refuse! He knew his duty and had already taken steps to
achieve a position from which to carry it out.
First there must be newly awakened doubt between the various factions for Hawk
Haven s crown. He had hoped that Sapphire Shield s death would do the trick.
The men Keen had hired to follow her and
Jet had been told to make it appear that an animal had savaged her. Ostensibly
this had been to draw suspicion away from human hands Keen had been posing as
a love-maddened, rejected suitor when he contracted the thugs services.
Needless to say, there had been a better reason for such theatrics. Newell
himself had intended if no
one else arrived at the conclusion to hesitantly suggest that young Lady
Blysse had murdered the one regarded by many as her greatest rival for the
throne. Blysse s habit of slipping off into the night was well known by now.
Not even her faithful lackey Derian Carter would be believed if he swore that
he knew where she was every hour. His laxness regarding her had been commented
on, even by those who knew that Blysse had the king s favor.
Sapphire s death should have weakened Blysse s support as well as eliminating
one of Newell s own rivals. He was still disappointed that the thugs had
bungled. Keen, however, had made certain that they would not live to tell
tales.
After going bail for the two survivors not a difficult a thing to do in Hope,
where the local authorities did not wish to seem to care more about assault on
a noblewoman than on a commoner Keen had murdered the men and tossed their
bodies into the Barren River. If any wondered about the deaths, they should
end up thinking that one of Sapphire s legion of admirers had done the deed.
Newell would make certain they thought so even if they didn t on their own.
Although he had been less than successful in the first part of his plan,
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Prince Newell was progressing with the second part. This was to make at least
one of the allies betray that its deepest loyalties were to none but itself.
After consideration, he had elected Stonehold for this role for the logical
reason that it was
Bright Bay s ally, not Hawk Haven s. For now Hawk Haven provided the
foundation for Newell s own prestige and influence. He did not care to weaken
that, though neither Waterland nor New Kelvin were any more honest in their
motives for alliance.
For the third part of his plan to work there must be conflict that would bring
the prince shining to the fore.
Newell fancied a battle would do the trick, one wherein Stonehold would show
its true colors. Perhaps weakened by loss of their ally, Bright Bay would join
forces with Hawk Haven. Alternatively, the battle could take place between
three armies. In either case, Hawk Haven s army should come forth
victorious they must, for they alone would be unweakened by the defection of a
traitorous ally.
And in that battle Prince Newell planned to lead. His would be the great
deeds. Based upon them, he would be hailed the new king of Hawk Haven by
popular acclaim. Rook and Keen were already sounding out the gathered armies
for those soldiers who could be easily bribed or influenced to shout
Newell s praises loudly and at the proper moment.
Among the many deserters who resided in Hope and Good Crossing there were
those who could be bought and instructed to insert themselves among the troops
when added numbers would be welcomed, not questioned. Their voices would shout
loudly for Prince Newell, for he would promise them pardon and honor. With the
army firmly behind him and the added weight of his own noble title, none would
dare resist him.
Then graciously would Prince Newell offer the conquered (or newly weakened)
Bright Bay a chance to come under his sweeping wing. He smiled, imagining the
meeting with lovely Gustin IV, perhaps grief-stricken from her husband s
sudden death. Surely he could arrange that little detail if it seemed meet. If
Queen Gustin suspected assassination, so much the better, for then she would
fear him and the power he wielded off the battlefield.
There was, of course, the small problem that King Tedric still lived and must
continue to live until the very day of the battle in question. The mad old man
had secured his succession while leaving his prospective heirs spatting. All
to the good for Prince Newell, for united in their distrust of each other they
would not look to him as a rival. Once Newell was the hero of war and peace a
mere name scribbled by a quivering hand on a piece of parchment would not bear
the weight of his deeds.
But King Tedric must not die too soon.
The sound of a cautiously cleared throat brought Newell from his revery.
Master, murmured Rook, all is prepared for your departure. Keen is sweating
the horses even now. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
