This Scepter'd Isle by Mercedes Lackey, Roberta Gellis Page A

uncertain to speak of now, it might not be wise for him to be too attached to you."
    Now he shrugged, judging it wise to point out to Norfolk that of all of the people with whom FitzRoy might be in contact, he was the only one without a long list of personal interests. "To me, Your Grace? I am the safest kind of friend for His Grace. Remember, I am a man without a country. My poor nation has been swallowed by the Turks. I will do nothing to benefit those conquerors, and I am connected with no party in England by family or tradition. And as for my business interests—they are without borders. My wares can be sold—or not—in any civilized country. I have, as the saying goes, no ax to grind. In fact, I care only for him in that he is a fine young lad, who reminds me greatly of my own, lost sibling." Then suddenly he laughed. "The boy is six years old, Your Grace, and his father in the best of health, thank God. The question of who might or might not influence him need not be considered now, surely?"
    Norfolk rocked back on his heels as he pondered Denoriel's words. "I suppose not. Very well, Lord Denno. If you should come north, you will be welcome at Sheriff Hutton or Pontefract—Richmond will not be going to Carlisle Castle although he has been named its keeper."
    "Hurrah!" FitzRoy shouted.
    Norfolk looked down at him and frowned, then transferred the expression to his own children. "Henry, Mary, take Richmond off to have his tea, and see that you do not leave him alone again. Nor do I want you to leave the house. I will have Croke sent to you."
    "Will you come up to my rooms to say good-bye?" FitzRoy asked, turning to Denoriel.
    "There is nothing to be afraid of now, Har— I mean, Your Grace." Denoriel said. "You heard His Grace of Norfolk give orders that the entire palace be searched and that extra guards be assigned to your corridor and room."
    "I heard," FitzRoy muttered, "but there were guards at the gate and those men got in. You knew something was wrong. I want you to come look at my rooms." He clutched tight to Denoriel's hand, his tone growing shriller, his face pinched. "Look at my boat. If you hadn't come, I would be dead. I'll tell everybody! I'll tell everybody!"
    "Go up to his rooms, if you don't mind, Lord Denno," Norfolk said hurriedly, stemming what he feared would be a hysterical outburst and now convinced that Lord Denno would calm the child.
    "No, of course I don't mind," Denoriel said with his arm around FitzRoy. "Thank you, Your Grace. He will be calmer tomorrow, I am sure."
     

CHAPTER 5
    "You fools!" Vidal Dhu snarled. "Or are you traitors?"
    Pasgen and Rhoslyn stood shoulder to shoulder. Often enough they competed with each other, but not when Vidal Dhu was threatening; then it was best to present a united front. Both stared at their master—green cat-pupilled eyes glaring back at their prince's.
    Vidal Dhu had called them to stand before him in his ebony throne-room. That had been a bad sign. It had been worse that he had sent guards to bring them. But worst of all was that he had kept them waiting, cooling their heels in the antechamber, for nigh onto an hour before he had them brought within.
    "You will have to be more specific, my lord," Pasgen said, reaching out to Rhoslyn as he spoke, gently pushing power at her. "About what were we fools?"
    No communication accompanied that gentle probe of power; Pasgen did not dare form a thought of what he wanted for Vidal Dhu to pick out of his mind. The small finger of power would, he hoped, be lost in the general surge in Underhill and the roiling currents around Vidal stirred by his mood. Pasgen took no chance with the prince in so foul a temper; he never knew how deep the prince could read him.
    However, he had not underestimated Rhoslyn's understanding. Her strength met his, and together they began to spin a web that could catch and dissipate any strike Vidal Dhu launched against them. The prince was unfortunately prone to striking first and