Free The Master of Heathcrest Hall by Galen Beckett Page B

young magicians brought to him, and no doubt there were other lords who had been similarly tempted by such a bargain. Fearing the suspicion Mertrand might cast their way, they had instead done away with him.
    That was Rafferdy’s conjecture on the matter, at least. But whatever the cause of Mertrand’s death, it had left the Magisters without a leader. Lord Farrolbrook could no longer fulfill that role—that was obvious to all in the Hall of Magnates, given his increasingly erratic behavior. Thus it seemed the party would be thrown into disarray like the Stouts.
    And then Lord Davarry stepped in.
    This had astonished many in Assembly. Davarry was the lord of a prosperous but, it was said, unremarkable estate in eastern Altania. He was a member of the Magisters, but no one could recall any debate or the passage of any act or law in which he had been instrumental. Indeed, few could think of a time when they had seen him take the floor to speak.
    But that was exactly what he did shortly after Mertrand’s death. While he had seldom spoken prior to that, he must have observed things closely, for it soon became clear he was a genius at maneuvering among the labyrinthine rules and protocols of the Hall of Magnates. Indeed, he often found a way to bend them to his purpose. Thus, while the public face of their leadership had changed, the ability of the Magisters to form and direct debate in the Hall was as strong as ever.
    Yet the direction of their arguments
had
changed since Lord Davarry ascended to the head of the party. As Coulten had observed, the Magisters had increasingly become proponents of royal authority. Under Lord Mertrand, they had refused to approve King Rothard’s writ of succession that declared the princess as his true heir. Some had gone so far as to suggest it was dangerous in times such as these—when witches in the West Country had been known to induce the Wyrdwood to rise up—to have a woman sitting on the throne. But now, whenever Lord Valhaine requested more authority or broader reach for the Gray Conclave, all in the name of Princess Layle, the Magisters were first and loudest to support it.
    What had caused the Magisters to change their views? Was it the princess herself? This seemed unlikely. After all, it was not as if the Magisters were clamoring to crown her. While the members of the Hall of Citizens and the majority of the people in the city were eager to have the princess formally take the throne, the Magisters seemed more than content to wait.
    Of course, there had been little opportunity for a coronation as of yet. First, there had been the requisite period of mourning following King Rothard’s death. And since then, the government had been faced with matters of more immediate need. Besides, Princess Layle was already the legal ruler of Altania. By law, she had become so the moment her father passed.
    Yet she could not be crowned queen until the succession was formally acknowledged and ratified by both Halls of Assembly. The Hall of Citizens had already done so, but not the Hall of Magnates. And for all their recent support for royal authority, the Magisters had yet to allow the matter of formal succession to be brought to a debate.
    But why was that the case?
    Before he could think more on the matter, Coulten leaned over and brought his mouth close to Rafferdy’s ear.
    “It’s almost time,” he whispered.
    Idly, as if he were merely bored, Rafferdy turned his head, surveyingthe tavern over the edge of his cup. Here and there he caught another’s gaze, and each time he gave the slightest fraction of a nod. The others returned the gesture in a similar fashion.
    Many of them were lords of middle years, and some even older. A few weren’t lords at all, but instead were doctors or barristers who were members of the Hall of Citizens. Only two or three were younger lords like Coulten and Rafferdy, and none of the others were members of the New Wigs.
    Which was precisely the point. Now that