Dragons and Destiny (10 page)

“Well, it’s her
or Susan Baker,” the Crown-Prince announced. “I’ve no objection to
my son’s wife coming from those families of lesser rank but I
would
prefer our future Queen to come from one of the ducal
houses. He turned to Martin Taviston. “Lucy and Alison, are they
descended, say for three generations back from any of the ducal
houses?”

“No My
Prince.”

“That’s it
then,” announced Paul. “It’s between Isobel and Susan, they are of
comparable rank, they are the right ages, they are both from ducal
houses and consanguinity is not a problem.”

Thirteen
down, two to go
. Martin Taviston was almost beside himself with
joy.
This hasn’t been so bad at all. The Lord Marshall will be
pleased.

“Who is Susan
betrothed to?” asked Alastair Gardiner.

“Baron-Heir
Martin Russell of Highbridge,” Martin Taviston supplied the answer
with immediacy.

“That’s easily
broken,” said Prince-Duke Xavier. “It cannot be used as an
impediment.” He most definitely wanted someone from his ducal house
to be chosen and Martin Russell was of extremely low rank when
compared to a prince of the blood.

“True,” mused
the Crown-Prince, “but I’m inclined to go with young Isobel
Cocteau.”

It was at this
point that the meeting erupted into a series of loud and bitter
arguments and from which the Crown-Prince emerged exhausted but
victorious.

Xavier wanted
Susan, as did William Baker, the double Duchy of Baker usually
voted together on Conclave. Pierre Cocteau naturally voted for his
niece as did Prince-Duke Robert Brentwood. His sister-in-law had
married into the House of Gardiner and that old Duke did the same,
commenting in a crusty voice that he didn’t hold with breakings of
betrothals. William Duchesne, his son being married to Princess
Bethany and himself married to a Contessa of the House of Gardiner,
also came down on the side of Isobel Cocteau. Charles Graham
decided the same which was not surprising, his wife being a
Brentwood and his mother a Cocteau. Surprisingly, the Duke of Smith
thought Susan Baker the more suitable as did Raoul van Buren.

Once the Dukes
and Crown-Prince had voted, the tally was six votes for Isobel and
four for Susan and advocates of the latter began to harangue the
Lord Marshall and the Archbishop for their votes.

King Elliot sat
in silence as was his norm. His would be the deciding vote if one
was needed. The Lord Marshall said nothing for a long moment.

“Peter?”
enquired Crown-Prince Paul.

“To be
perfectly honest gentlemen,” the Lord Marshall said with a
disarming smile, “I’m not sure. I have never met Margravessa Isobel
but I have met Margravessa Susan. She is a fine girl, and healthy
enough to produce an heir. She is also the same age as the
Prince-Heir. Isobel is two years the younger and therefore the
procurement of an heir may have to wait until she reaches greater
maturity. We all know what happens if females are forced to bear
children too young.”

“Quite,” said
Prince-Duke Xavier in triumphant tones.

“If I may
continue?” asked the Lord Marshall in exasperated tones.

“Yes, yes, go
on.”

“I have to say
Susan for the aforementioned reason.”

All eyes turned
to the Archbishop, the Primate of Murdoch. If he voted for Isobel
then she would become the Princess-Elect, if for Susan then the
King would have to decide.

“Margravessa
Isobel,” he announced in a stentorian voice, better suited to
preaching from the high, isolated pulpit in the cathedral than in
the wood lined conclave chamber.

“No,” shouted
an angry Prince-Duke Xavier.

Archbishop Tom
Brentwood turned to the Crown-Prince’s brother. “Susan is
betrothed,” he explained trying to pour oil on the turbulent
waters. “A betrothal is binding and I will not sign the release so
long as there is another suitable to take her place. I would have
sanctioned Susan’s younger sister Anne but as Crown-Prince Paul
said at the beginning, she is too young for marriage next
summer.”

He turned to
the Prince.

“Would you
consider postponement for another year?”

Crown-Prince
Paul shook his head.

“Then I have to
go with young Isobel.”

Tom Brentwood’s
rheumy eyes turned to the disappointed face of Xavier.

Xavier’s eyes
were glinting. “Of course,” he mocked, “we all want peace and
cordiality.”

“Of course
brother,” said Prince Paul in a guarded voice.

“You will have
my full support for Isobel, if you agree that your daughter
Princess Susan is betrothed to my wife’s cousin Gerald. He is not
promised.” Xavier was slyly looking at the Archbishop.

“Agreed,”
announced King Elliot as he gathered himself to rise to his feet.
“I’m sick of this. You have voted. Elliot’s bride is Margravessa
Isobel and my granddaughter Princess Susan is promised to Margrave
Gerald. That’s the end of it.”

The King left
with a nod to his son. He had been finding meetings difficult of
late and the doctors were expressing concern about his health.

As Prince-Duke
Xavier led the rest out, followed by the others (Prince-Duke Robert
did not insist on precedence) the Lord Marshall turned a troubled
face towards the Crown-Prince.

“I don’t think
we’ve heard the end of this,” he said. “Why did he give up so
easily? There’s more to this than meets the eye. Are you still set
on sending Elliot away for the rest of the year?”

“Yes I am.”

“Well, I think
you should take more thought on who is to accompany him. I did
not
like the look in your brother’s eye.”

“That’s just
Xavier, he’s always got a rudkta in his pants about nothing.”

“Not nothing,”
Count Peter Duchesne said. “If anything should happen to Elliot,
Princess Susan is next in line.”

“He wouldn’t,
Susan is his
niece,
” exclaimed a disbelieving Crown-Prince.
“I know we’ve always had our differences, but…”

“He is
jealous.”

“Of me?”

“Of your
position as heir.”

“He’s welcome
to the job.”

The Gods
forbid
, was Peter Duchesne’s fervent thought. “It wouldn’t be
the first time a male heir was, shall we say, disposed of, to leave
the way clear for a Queen Regnant. With Gerald married to Susan and
you dead, he would not have the title but he would be the power
behind the throne. Young Gerald Baker would be easy to control.”
The Lord Marshall had long been suspicious of Prince-Duke Xavier.
He knew that Xavier always had been jealous of his elder brother.
Plotting and an occasional (or not so occasional) assassination was
endemic amongst the senior noble houses.

“I think that
when Elliot leaves on his journey it should not be a mentor who is
in nominal charge, but a bodyguard,” the Lord Marshall
pronounced.

Elliot had kept
away from the discussions. He received the news of his imminent
betrothal to Margravessa Isobel Cocteau with studied indifference
although his father wasn’t fooled. Elliot was interested, very
interested and his father felt sure that Elliot’s friend James
Cocteau would be quizzed unmercifully about his sister before the
day was out.

“But it is not
your marriage specifically that I asked you to come and see me,”
said the Crown-Prince. “The wedding will not happen until next
summer and you don’t need to be here for the betrothal ceremony. A
proxy will do as well. I know what it is like to be a young man
with little to occupy his time. I have therefore decided that you
will perform a series of visits.”

“Visits?” asked
an intrigued Elliot, Isobel Cocteau forgotten. “Visits where? To
the Islands?”

“Not just to
the Islands although that will be a part of it.”

Where?”
demanded Elliot.

The
Crown-Prince looked hard at his son. “When I was your age I was
sent on a tour, a State Tour. As well as visiting, in detail, each
and every one of the duchies …”

Elliot groaned.
“I’ve been to them all and I’d rather not again until I have to.
Being in Sahara is like dancing on hot coals.”

His father
laughed.

“Not Sahara,
though that is an idea for a later date. State visits to the Dukes
of the Western and Eastern Isles are long overdue as is one to the
Earls of Galland.”

Elliot groaned
again.

“I don’t think
I want to.”

“Want is not an
option. You’re seventeen son, time to undertake your royal
responsibilities.”

Elliot looked
blue. He had been looking forward to a fine time now that he was
finished with the schoolroom. His father continued. “It is time you
took a share of such duties, tiresome and onerous as they may seem.
They are a necessary part of kingship and the sooner you get used
to it the better. I can’t go, your grandfather is getting on and
isn’t well. The Duke of Kirkton now, it is imperative that he
receive a visit. The Eastern Isles have always been that bit more
traditional than the Western Isles, I believe a member of
that
ruling house is married to a young person from Vadath,
but let’s not take any chances.”

“Are they
paired with a Lind?” asked an excited Elliot. “Who is it?”

“Don’t
interrupt boy, now a state visit will do very nicely. It will
remind the Island Dukes of where their loyalties lie. I know how
boring such visits can be, especially at your age, but …”

“But what?”

His father
looked pleased with what he was suggesting. “How about an extension
to this ‘tour’ by a few months?

“A
holiday?”

“Not exactly,
but what about a fact-finding holiday to the northern
continent?”

“I don’t
understand.”

“I was thinking
that perhaps you and one or two of your Companions, under the
nominal charge of someone older might like to go on an incognito
tour round Argyll. You should understand more than you can learn
from textbooks about our northern neighbours. Knowing your friends
and enemies is the secret to a long lifespan Elliot. Politically we
and the north are poles apart but I think you should see what is
underneath. ”

“That’s a
wonderful
idea Father.” Elliot thought for a moment. “You
said someone older. Who?” He had had a sudden vision of an elderly
guardian being foisted on him, spoiling his adventure.

“Well,”
Crown-Prince Paul’s eyes twinkled. “Someone old enough to control
you all but young enough to have some fun. What about Baron Philip
Ross?

“Your own
bodyguard? You must be joking. He’d be no fun at all.”

“How little you
know him,” murmured the Crown-Prince. “Yes, I think he will do
fine. He is not too old, but he is old enough to counter the
objections I foresee in Conclave. He has the rank which should keep
old Gardiner happy and he can protect you which will please the
Lord Marshall.”

Elliot looked
sulky. He had been imagining a fine time and now it looked as if
this fun was likely to be curtailed. Baron Philip Ross was not
noted for his sense of humour.

“Either Baron
Ross or you don’t go at all,” his father warned.

Elliot
understood.

He bowed to his
father and went looking for James Cocteau to tell him about the
wonderful news and to ask about his young sister.

Having decided
that Baron Philip Ross
must
be in charge of the tour, the
Crown-Prince sent for him to tell him. The Lord Marshall was also
at the interview and he took the opportunity to express his
concerns about the continuing safety of the Prince-Heir although he
was careful to mention no names.

Baron Philip
Ross was an intelligent man, he had been in the Crown-Prince’s
service for over a decade; he understood something of what was
behind the words and drew his own conclusions.

“I’ll take good
care of him My Prince, Lord Marshall,” he promised.

“Elliot will
want to take young James Cocteau with him,” said the Crown-Prince,
acknowledging Philip Ross’s words with a nod of understanding, “a
scatterbrain but a nice enough lad, for the other I am not sure,
I’m hoping that you can guide him in the matter.”

“I’ll try,”
said Philip Ross. “I think one other only, a small party will have
more change to remain undetected.”

“No chance of
that,” Peter Duchesne said, “detected but observed to be
unimportant must be your aim.”

“Right, go for
it,” ordered the Crown-Prince. “Four. No servants. It will be good
for him,” he added with an enigmatic smile which both Peter
Duchesne and Philip Ross returned, realising what Prince Paul had
in mind for his seventeen year old son.

Elliot flung
himself into a frenzy or preparation.

His first
decision was which two Companions he would take with him, a
decision that was fraught with much soul searching because
whichever two he chose, three would be disappointed. Although a
retinue would accompany them on their visit to the Islands, as soon
as the party took ship for Argyll the servants would be sent
home.

Elliot’s father
believed his son needed to ‘toughen up’. A few months without
servants running around catering to his every fancy and whim should
go a long way of ridding the heir of his indolent habits. Part of
the new regime was to force the Prince to help make the decision
about who was to accompany them.

That James
Cocteau would go was a given but he was due to marry soon; still
Elliot decided, newly married or not, he would give James first
refusal. James Cocteau was his best friend. Besides, Elliot liked
James and wanted him with him. The choice of the other companion
was more difficult but Elliot eventually chose Kellen Derek
Merriman, a lad a year older than him and James. Although Philip
Ross had not mentioned this to his royal charge, Derek Merriman was
an excellent swordsman. This would be very useful if, as the Lord
Marshall had hinted, there was an assassination attempt on the
Prince-Heir.