Free Castle Dreams by John Dechancie Page A

terms?"
    Trent answered, “Yes. Conditions under which I will take the job. The term of regency will extend beyond Brandon's attainment of majority. In other words, he won't be crowned until..."
    Trent broke off and laughed again.
    â€œYes, Highness,” Tragg urged. “Until ... ?"
    â€œWell, until I either croak or get tired of the whole mess and abdicate ... uh, step down. Then Brandon becomes Lord of Perilous and king of the realms therein."
    Outrageous was the word most whispered around the table.
    â€œOh, come, gentle lords,” Trent said. “I know it's a grab for power. I admit it. It's a scam, a ruse. I'll be king in all but name, not just regent. But I've been waiting for just such an opportunity all my life. Now it's here, knocking away, and I'm making my move. All legal and proper. I think I deserve the throne, and I think I was wronged by having the throne denied me. It's that simple. You may detest my methods, but my motives are pure. I simply want what is rightfully mine, what was granted me by the divine grace of the gods."
    â€œ'Legal and proper,'” Tragg scoffed. “There is a term for what you are about."
    â€œOh, I'm not afraid of the word. One man's blackmail is another's friendly persuasion. Sure, I'm railroading you. But you guys ... pardon my lapsing into cant. You're all past masters at the art of strong-arming. You wouldn't be in the positions you're in if you weren't. Why this sudden pretense of being shocked when the wrestling match starts going against you?"
    â€œWith respect, I object to your choice of metaphor."
    Trent took his foot from the table. “Forget the rhetorical devices. I'm making you an offer you shouldn't refuse. I'll settle for a souped-up regency in exchange for signing papers to the effect that I relinquish all claims to the Siege Perilous, in perpetuity, in aeternum, et cetera. Do we have a deal?"
    At the end of his patience, Tragg protested, “His Highness wants both sides of his bread buttered. He wants us to choose between making him king de facto and entertaining his pretensions to kingship de jure. In short, make him king now or wait till he outmaneuvers us and steals the throne later. Sir, we are damned if we do or don't!"
    â€œDamned right. That's it in the proverbial nutshell. I have you guys over a barrel and you know it."
    Yorvil cackled fiendishly, slapping the table.
    Trent looked at him, amused.
    Hivelt surveyed the room, tallying silent assent. “My lords, shall we all say that we'll take it into consideration?"
    Tragg's fist hit the table. “I'll not stand for it!"
    Hivelt sighed. “One objection, then. Any others?"
    â€œI want an answer soon,” Trent said.
    â€œSurely, sir, you'll let us consult in private before—"
    â€œOf course, of course.” Trent's smile suddenly left him. “About the coroner's inquest..."
    â€œThere will be no autopsy,” Hivelt said.
    â€œHuh? Why?"
    â€œCanon law. No mutilation of the king's body is permitted."
    â€œNot even when there's some question as to the cause of death?"
    â€œNo. Under no circumstances."
    â€œWhat does Dr. Mirabilis think the cause of death was?"
    â€œHe will make a preliminary post mortem report in a few hours. However, he's limited in what he can do."
    â€œHas he said anything ? Guesses?"
    â€œHe did say something about heart failure."
    Trent snorted. “That's a big help."
    â€œWe'll know eventually,” Hivelt said, shrugging. “Mirabilis says he has plenty of non-intrusive procedures."
    â€œWell, that's something."
    â€œHis Highness's solicitude concerning his brother is most touching,” Tragg said. The irony fairly oozed.
    Trent's manner had undergone a rapid change. He looked uneasy. But he managed a crooked grin. “Tragg, that was right over the plate. Not your usual breaking ball. Why don't you come right out and say I had him murdered?"
    â€œAgain, His Highness's choice of metaphor