The queen took this in. "And the other ships? There were six, I believe."

"We do not know," he admitted. "Apparently the ships split up after what was left of our navy helped them through the magical defenses. Our ships are still offshore, fighting what remains of the pirate fleet. The decoy fleet," he added in deep self-disgust.

"You could not have known, my friend," Amlaruil said. "None of us expected such treachery from our own. We should have."

"There is more," the war leader said. "Three of these ships are approaching Leuthilspar. The leader is close enough to send messages through flag speech."

Amlaruil frowned. "The Starwing fleet could not stop them?"

"We did not send the Starwing ships against them," Keryth said softly. "I did not think you would wish it. The ship has sent word: Prince Lamruil himself is on board."

Kymil Nimesin turned an impatient stare upon the young human sailor. The youth was nearly dancing with ill-contained excitement. This annoyed Kymil. He had endured young Kaymid's enthusiasms for about as long he intended to. Once the battle for Evermeet was over, this wretched boy would be the first human to fall to Kymil's blade.

"You have something to say?" he asked coldly.

"The elf prince is asking to see you," Kaymid said importantly.

This interested Kymil. Young Lamruil had not spoken so much as two words to his former swordmaster since the day that he had stumbled into Kymil's trap. Glum and resentful, he had been the very picture of the spoiled, thwarted boy-prince.

The Gold elf followed Kaymid down to the hold, where Lamruil sat on the floor of his cell. For a moment Kymil gazed at the young elf, taking pleasure in Lamruil's wasted appearance. During the ocean voyage, they had given him just enough food and water to keep him alive. But even though the young elf was far thinner and less hale than he had been at the beginning of the voyage, he still outmassed most elves that Kymil could name.

"Well?" he inquired. "What do you want?"

Lamruil looked up, and the grim intensity in his blue eyes set Kymil back on his heels. "My life," the prince said coldly. "And I am willing to pay any price to have it."

Kymil was inclined to believe him. "What have you to offer? You are still a useful pawn to me-a pawn that if properly played, might be traded for a queen."

"You underestimate Amlaruil," the prince said flatly. "There is nothing she would not sacrifice for Evermeet's sake. Since she and I do not see eye to eye on many matters, I doubt she would shed many tears over me." He cast a derisive smile at Kymil. "Simple kidnapping, Lord Kymil? Expecting the queen to ransom me at the expense of her kingdom? I must say, that is by far the weakest part of your otherwise excellent plan."

There was some truth in that, and it galled Kymil. "And what would you have me do?"

"Free me," Lamruil said. "We will stage a mock battle on the deck of this ship, in full view of those who watch from Leuthilspar's docks. Then I, the victorious prince, will escape ashore, valiantly bringing with me the only other elf who survived the fight."

"Me, I suppose," Kymil said coldly, though in fact he rather approved of the prince's line of thought. "And then?"

"Then I will demand the queen's abdication. I have that right," he said calmly, holding up a hand to still Kymil's sarcastic laughter. "I am the heir, I am of age. All I need do is draw the sword of Zaor, and it is done."

"Oh, is that all?"

Lamruil smiled coldly. "You think I cannot draw the sword and live? Very well-say that I don't live. You have still accomplished what you set out to do. Every member of the royal family on Evermeet will be dead."

"But for Amlaruil herself."

"Ah. I forgot to tell you that part," the prince said. "I will kill her myself, before I draw the king sword."

"You would never get close enough," Kymil sneered.

"Who said I intended to use a weapon?" retorted the prince. "I know my mother, and I know her absolute devotion to Evermeet. If we present her with a task, a dangerous spell that only she could cast, she would do it. Even if it meant her death."

"Such as?"

"The other ships," Lamruil said bluntly. "We tell her where they are bound. Amlaruil has the power to cast a spell that can teleport a single ship away from Evermeet. She might be able to manage to send two away, and live. But more?" The prince shook his head. "She will try, all the same."

"And I lose my ships."

"And gain a kingdom," the prince said. "How many of the elven survivors of Evermeet would follow you if your hand was raised against their beloved queen? Zaor might forgive you. But never Amlaruil. No, we go in playing the part of heroes. Amlaruil dies defending her people. I am no king," he said negligently, "nor do I wish to be. Nor, for that matter, will the people of Evermeet embrace me. I’ll happily set aside the sword of Zaor-and take myself off to the mainland for a life filled with soft women and hard cider. It would suit me far better than a crown. Then you, in whatever guise you choose, will be free to restore the Council of Elders. We both get what we want."

Kymil stared at the prince, astonished by the grim tone, the venal light in his eyes. He had known Lamruil was a self-centered wastrel, but he hadn't thought him capable of such focused thought, even in the effort of self-preservation. He would test just how far the prince was willing to go.

"Convince me," Kymil suggested. "Tell me more."

"You have a spelljammer. I heard the others talking. Do not send it in until the island is subdued. Sumbrar has defenses that would bring it down with ease."

"The Guardians. The sleeping dragons have already been released, and most have exchanged their age-long slumber for a more permanent one. The same goes for the dragonriders. I am not troubled by the thought of a few pegasi."

"There is a Starwing fleet on Sumbrar," Lamruil said.

"Not so. The fleet was destroyed over five hundred years ago, during the flight of the dragons!"

"True, but it was rebuilt in secrecy. There are ten ships." Lamruil gave a short, concise description that left Kymil utterly convinced. He had spent enough time on just such a ship to know that only firsthand knowledge could prompt the prince's words.

The prince continued, describing the defenses of the island and the powers of its queen in such detail that Kymil was nearly convinced.

"Give me one thing more, and we will do as you suggest," the elf said.

A strange, almost mad light entered the prince's eyes. "It may be that for one reason or another you may wish to restore the throne of Evermeet. There is a lawful heir. The princess Amnestria had a child."

Kymil snorted. "Don't remind me! A half-breed bastard is no contender for the throne, by any elf s measure."

"Arilyn was my sister's second child. She had another-a son by a Moon elf of a noble family. No one on Evermeet knows this but me. The prince is not aware of his identity. I can tell you where he is. I can prove he is who I say he is. You can use him or slay him, as suits your needs."

The Gold elf nodded, convinced of the worth of what Lamruil offered. The truth of it, he already knew. After all, it was a small matter to cast a spell that weighed the truthfulness of what was said.

"We will do as you say," he said. "But be assured that a dagger will find your heart before one word of betrayal can escape your lips!"

The prince shrugged. "Just let me out of this hole, and I will be content."

The harbor guards brought Lamruil directly to the queen's council chamber, as she requested. A spasm of pain crossed her drawn face as her gaze fell upon her son's wasted form. Even thin as he was, clad in filthy garments and marked with several small wounds from the battle that freed him, he carried himself with an arrogance that brought frowns to the faces of all of Amlaruil's advisers.