Page 107 of The Sun King's Noon

Richard’s lips twitched. His heart, finally, was slowing, but the warmth tinging his cheeks had returned. “Kaelen?—”

“And as for the difficulty of making friends,” Kaelen said mullishly, “I shall make it my duty to assist you in that endeavour. If you wish for friends, you shall have them. From this day on, I shall ensure you have every opportunity?—”

“Kaelen.”

“—I shall scout for those who would best suit you, for those who share the same interests and who would amuse you with conversation, and I shall persuade them to make your acquaintance?—”

“Kaelen.”

“—and if any were to embarrass you in some manner, I shall challenge them to a duel?—”

“Kaelen!” Richard laughed hard, the broth rocking dangerously against the bowl’s rim.

Kaelen gawked. “My king? Are you—are you well?”

“You are,” Richard managed between gasps, “a ridiculous creature.” He chuckled. “Pray tell me. Do you intend to stand atour castle’s gates with a roster of candidates? Do you intend to interview them on my behalf?”

“I—” Kaelen flushed. “I had not thought so far ahead, in truth.” He grimaced. “Forgive me, but I cannot quite—I cannot reconcile you having only the one friend. It must not be allowed to stand.”

“It is not so dire as all that?—”

“It is precisely so dire.” Kaelen leaned forward. “And if you wish to befriend Druid Orric, you shall befriend him, and I shall be glad of him for you. If you wish to befriend Flint—” He winced, and continued doggedly, “I—I shall be glad of him also, but you must be careful.”

Richard fought back a smile. “Go and get your lunch, Kaelen.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Kaelen rose. “I—I am sorry, though. Truly. For what I said about—about those with powers stirring you and?—”

“Kaelen.” Richard met his eyes. “It is behind us.”

Kaelen smiled, nodded, and turned. Richard watched him go. A breeze came up the slope, carrying salt from the distant sea, and Richard’s eye was drawn beyond the slope of Kaelen’s shoulders, beyond the picnicking troupe, and to the city below.

Vexmara waited.

Heaviness settled back across Richard’s shoulders.

No more easy travelling.

There was work to be done.

PART FOUR

THE CITY THAT BURNS

“You forget yourself, Ardenian. A squire—barely a man—ordering me on how I may speak? Do you think he’ll thank you for defending him? Do you imagine he even knows your name? Or is this jealousy? You wish he would be in your bed rather than mine?”

CHAPTER 39

The wall of Vexmara perturbed the troupe as they reached it. From the ramparts hung several charred bodies—at least a week old, going by the bones that protruded through blackened flesh. The setting sun gilded the ivory stone behind them, and the bodies swayed in the coastal breeze.

As the rest of the troupe gawked, Richard bundled the children inside the cook’s wagon. Five faces pouted back at him from the wagon’s rear flap, and Richard frowned back.

“This is a big city. A very big city. You will not have seen its like before. And in big cities, children disappear.”

The triplets blanched and hugged Daisy, but Jeya only rolled her eyes.

“They are taken,” Richard continued, “by people with hooks and sacks, who walk about looking like ordinary, pleasant people. They wait until a child wanders three steps from their minders, and then—” He snapped his fingers. “Gone. You will never see your families again. Some of you may be dragged to the black markets and have your limbs chopped off so you can be displayed as a doll. Some of you may be sold to pirates who will use you to scrub at the decks until your fingers are worn to the bone and your teeth fall out. Some of you will simply bekept in a dark dungeon, have your eyeballs removed, and a pipe fed to your stomach so as to be fattened up and then fed to sea monsters.”

He was gratified to see the triplets and Daisy on the verge of tears.