Domes of Fire

‘Well,’ Ehlana said, looking up from the documents, ‘if it isn’t my noble prince consort and my wandering page.’

Talen bowed. Then he sniffed loudly.

‘Use your handkerchief,’ Mirtai told him.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘How are your mothers?’ Ehlana asked the young man. Everyone, perhaps unconsciously, used that phrasing when speaking to Talen and his half-brothers. In a very real sense, though, the usage reflected reality. Aslade and Elys mothered Kurik’s five sons excessively and impartially.

‘Meddlesome, my Queen,’ Talen replied. ‘It’s not really a good idea to get sick in that house. In the last week I think I’ve been dosed with every cold remedy known to man.’ A peculiar, squeaky noise came from somewhere in the general vicinity of the young man’s midsection.

‘Is that your stomach?’ Mirtai asked him. ‘Are you hungry again?’

‘No. I just ate. I probably won’t get hungry again for at least fifteen minutes.’ Talen put one hand to the front of his doublet. ‘The little beast was being so quiet I almost forgot it was there.’ He went over to Danae, who was tying the strings of a little bonnet under the chin of her stuffed toy. ‘I’ve brought a present for you, Princess,’ he said.

Her eyes brightened. She set Rollo aside and sat waiting expectantly.

‘But no kissing,’ he added. ‘Just a “thank you” will do. I’ve got a cold, and you don’t want to catch it.’

‘What did you bring me?’ she asked eagerly.

‘Oh, just a little something I found under a bush out on the road. It’s a little wet and muddy, but you can dry it out and brush it off, I suppose. It’s not much, but I thought you might like it – just a little.’ Talen was underplaying it for all he was worth.

‘Could I see it, please?’ she begged.

‘Oh, I suppose so.’ He reached inside his doublet, took out a rather bedraggled grey kitten and sat it on the floor in front of her. The kitten had mackerel stripes, a spiky tail, large ears and an intently curious look in its blue eyes. It took a tentative step toward its new mistress.

Danae squealed with delight, picked up the kitten and hugged it to her cheek. ‘I love it!!’ she exclaimed.

‘There go the draperies,’ Mirtai said with resignation. ‘Kittens always want to climb the drapes.’

Talen skilfully fended off Sparhawk’s exuberant little daughter. ‘The cold, Danae,’ the boy warned. ‘I’ve got a cold, remember?’ Sparhawk was certain that his daughter would grow more skilled with the passage of time and that it wouldn’t be very long until Talen would no longer be able to evade her affection. The kitten had been no more than a gesture, Sparhawk was certain – some spur-of-the-moment impulse to which Talen had given no thought whatsoever. It rather effectively sealed the young man’s fate, however. A few days before, Sparhawk had idly wondered where he had made the mistake that had permanently attached his wife’s affection to him. He realised that this scruffylooking kitten was Talen’s mistake – or at least one of them. Sparhawk mentally shrugged. Talen would make an adequate son-in-law – once Danae had trained him.

‘Is it all right, your Majesty?’ Talen was asking the queen. ‘For her to have the kitten, I mean?’

‘Isn’t it just a little late to be asking that question, Talen?’ Ehlana replied.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said impudently. ‘I thought I’d timed it just about right.’

Ehlana looked at her daughter, who was snuggling the kitten against her face. All cats are born opportunists. The kitten patted the little girl’s cheek with one soft paw and then nuzzled. Kittens are expert nuzzlers.

‘How can I say no after you’ve already given it to her, Talen?’

‘It would be a little difficult, wouldn’t it, your Majesty?’ The boy sniffed loudly.

Mirtai rose to her feet, put her dagger away and crossed the room to Talen. She reached out her hand, and he flinched away.

‘Oh, stop that,’ she told him. She laid her hand on his forehead. ‘You’ve got a fever.’

‘I didn’t get it on purpose.’

‘We’d better get him to bed, Mirtai,’ Ehlana said, rising from her chair.

‘We should sweat him first,’ the giantess said. ‘I’ll take him to the bathhouse and steam him for a while.’ She took Talen’s arm, firmly.

‘You’re not going into the bathhouse with me!’ he protested, his face suddenly aflame.

‘Be quiet,’ she commanded. ‘Send word to the cooks, Ehlana. Have them stir up a mustard plaster and boil up some chicken soup. When I bring him back from the bathhouse, we’ll put the mustard plaster on his chest, pop him into bed and spoon soup into him.’

‘Are you going to just stand there and let them do this to me, Sparhawk?’ Talen appealed.

‘I’d like to help you, my friend,’ Sparhawk replied, ‘but I’ve got my own health to consider too, you know.’

‘I wish I was dead,’ Talen groaned as Mirtai pulled him from the room.

Stragen and Ulath arrived from Emsat a few days later and were immediately escorted to the royal apartment. ‘You’re getting fat, Sparhawk,’ Ulath said bluntly, removing his ogre-horned helmet.

‘I’ve put on a few pounds,’ Sparhawk conceded.

‘Soft living,’ Ulath grunted disapprovingly.

‘How’s Wargun?’ Ehlana asked the huge blond Thalesian.

‘His mind’s gone,’ Ulath replied sadly. ‘They’ve got him locked up in the west wing of the palace. He spends most of his time raving.’

Ehlana sighed. ‘I always rather liked him – when he was sober.’

‘I doubt that you’ll feel the same way about his son, your Majesty,’ Stragen told her dryly. Like Platime, Stragen was a thief, but he had much better manners.

‘I’ve never met him,’ Ehlana said.

‘You might consider adding that to your next prayer of thanksgiving, your Majesty. His name’s Avin – a short and insignificant name for a short and insignificant fellow. He doesn’t show very much promise.’

‘Is he really that bad?’ Ehlana asked Ulath.

‘Avin Wargunsson? Stragen’s being generous. Avin’s a little man who spends all his time trying to make sure that people don’t overlook him. When he found out that I was coming here, he called me to the palace and gave me a royal communication to bring to you. He spent two hours trying to impress me.’