honored in the proper way, few spoke of his passing in sorrow and respect. No. All the talk was of whether the dukes would recognize the Piebald Prince as their rightful king or declare for Lord Canny; or if the Six Duchies would split and civil war bloody the land. Too quickly was good King Virile forgotten. To this day, few recognize how cleverly he had kept peace in his land.
Now, it must be recalled that it was the younger lords and ladies of the land who had so openly avowed loyalty to one or the other of the rivals. While younger hearts might sing aloud, older heads rule, as the saying goes, and so it was when the time came for the dukes to confirm King-in-Waiting Charger as the full king. Each in turn rose, and not a single one missed the chance to remind all that the Six Duchies had enemies on every border who would not hesitate to strike boldly if they did not stand together as one. As each duke or duchess spoke, so did he or she declare afterward for the Piebald Prince.
Last of all to stand was Strategy Farseer, Duke of Buck. His wife, the duchess, sat behind him, white to the lips, and his son sat behind him, and the eyes of Canny Farseer were so black that it seemed no life was in them at all. When Strategy spoke, he said he spoke the words not only of himself but also of his son Canny who would reign as Duke of Buck after him. The wish of him and of his line was that the Six Duchies would not be divided into quarreling states, but would remain as one and strong. For none in his family, he said, loved anything more truly than their homeland. The welfare of all the people of the land, he said, was a more important concern than the ambition of any one man, and so he would bow his knee to Charger as his rightful king, since his brother had chosen the young man to succeed him. Then, to the surprise of all, his son rose and knelt beside his father, bowing his head to his rival.
King Charger, King-in-Waiting no longer, received that homage, going first so white that the color upon his face was like black mold on a white cheese, and then so red that the vein hammered in his temple. For with this act, not only Duke Strategy but also his son Canny won the acclaim of all the court, for it was perceived as a noble sacrifice of honorable men. So it was that by conceding the throne to his rival, Canny and his father won the hearts of many a man who had not thought so well of them before.
Some say it was also in that moment that Canny won the heart of Lady Wiffen. That is a chancy thing for any minstrel to sing, of the moment when a lady’s heart joins itself to a lord’s, so Redbird cautioned me to say only that so it seemed to be, for at the feasting of the new king she chose to sit beside the heir to the duchy of Buck even though she had been offered a place of honor at Charger’s left hand. It was a strange celebration, for the man honored had eyes only for the lady who seemed to have dismissed him, and many who sat at his table were still hollow-eyed with grief over the loss of their Wit-beasts, and spoke little and ate even less. Surely it was not an auspicious omen of a hearty reign to follow, and so it proved.
Now King Virile had died when spring was venturing toward the land, and by Springfest King Charger wore the crown of the Six Duchies upon his Witted brow. Yet as the days lengthened, the new king’s reign did not prosper, but shriveled. The rains continued chill and heavy past the time when the soil should have been warming. Those who planted lost their first sowing to rot, and the coastal storms slowed trade to a crawl, with many a cargo delayed or spoiled. Some minstrels will sing that such dreary weather foretold all that followed, but in truth, as Redbird bade me tell it, it was only weather which cares nothing for the affairs of men.
In the sodden spring, a lone flower seemed to bloom and that was Lady Wiffen’s opening heart. Lord Canny’s courtship of her had prospered, and so sweet a couple they
Now, it must be recalled that it was the younger lords and ladies of the land who had so openly avowed loyalty to one or the other of the rivals. While younger hearts might sing aloud, older heads rule, as the saying goes, and so it was when the time came for the dukes to confirm King-in-Waiting Charger as the full king. Each in turn rose, and not a single one missed the chance to remind all that the Six Duchies had enemies on every border who would not hesitate to strike boldly if they did not stand together as one. As each duke or duchess spoke, so did he or she declare afterward for the Piebald Prince.
Last of all to stand was Strategy Farseer, Duke of Buck. His wife, the duchess, sat behind him, white to the lips, and his son sat behind him, and the eyes of Canny Farseer were so black that it seemed no life was in them at all. When Strategy spoke, he said he spoke the words not only of himself but also of his son Canny who would reign as Duke of Buck after him. The wish of him and of his line was that the Six Duchies would not be divided into quarreling states, but would remain as one and strong. For none in his family, he said, loved anything more truly than their homeland. The welfare of all the people of the land, he said, was a more important concern than the ambition of any one man, and so he would bow his knee to Charger as his rightful king, since his brother had chosen the young man to succeed him. Then, to the surprise of all, his son rose and knelt beside his father, bowing his head to his rival.
King Charger, King-in-Waiting no longer, received that homage, going first so white that the color upon his face was like black mold on a white cheese, and then so red that the vein hammered in his temple. For with this act, not only Duke Strategy but also his son Canny won the acclaim of all the court, for it was perceived as a noble sacrifice of honorable men. So it was that by conceding the throne to his rival, Canny and his father won the hearts of many a man who had not thought so well of them before.
Some say it was also in that moment that Canny won the heart of Lady Wiffen. That is a chancy thing for any minstrel to sing, of the moment when a lady’s heart joins itself to a lord’s, so Redbird cautioned me to say only that so it seemed to be, for at the feasting of the new king she chose to sit beside the heir to the duchy of Buck even though she had been offered a place of honor at Charger’s left hand. It was a strange celebration, for the man honored had eyes only for the lady who seemed to have dismissed him, and many who sat at his table were still hollow-eyed with grief over the loss of their Wit-beasts, and spoke little and ate even less. Surely it was not an auspicious omen of a hearty reign to follow, and so it proved.
Now King Virile had died when spring was venturing toward the land, and by Springfest King Charger wore the crown of the Six Duchies upon his Witted brow. Yet as the days lengthened, the new king’s reign did not prosper, but shriveled. The rains continued chill and heavy past the time when the soil should have been warming. Those who planted lost their first sowing to rot, and the coastal storms slowed trade to a crawl, with many a cargo delayed or spoiled. Some minstrels will sing that such dreary weather foretold all that followed, but in truth, as Redbird bade me tell it, it was only weather which cares nothing for the affairs of men.
In the sodden spring, a lone flower seemed to bloom and that was Lady Wiffen’s opening heart. Lord Canny’s courtship of her had prospered, and so sweet a couple they
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