He looked from one to the other of them and said, his voice now a strained whisper, “It is Nin the Destroyer!”

SEVEN

THEIDO LOOKED blankly at Ronsard and then back at the frightened peasant. The man’s eyes glittered wide and round in the moonlight. He had scarcely dared utter his enemy’s name, and his tongue had frozen in his mouth. But as appalling as the name was to the peasant-enough at least to inspire a whole village to flight at the very, sound of it-the name meant nothing to Theido or Ronsard.

“I have never heard this name,” said Theido. Ronsard shook his head and looked hard at the peasant.

“Is there another name by which this enemy may be known? We know nothing of this Nin or his armies.”

“No-there is no other name I know.”

“Halidom was destroyed? These men that came to Dora, they saw it destroyed?”

“Yes, so they said. Some of them had lost everything-home and family, possessions-everything.”

Theido turned to Ronsard. “There is where we will find our answer-at Halidom.”

“So it would seem. We will go there and see what may be seen. The King will want to know in any case.” He turned back to the leader of the fleeing people. “This Nin you speak of-he was moving toward Dora, you say? How did you know if you did not see him?”

“The men of Halidom told us. The enemy ranges the whole countryside. No place is safe from him. That is why we go to the High Temple at Narramoor to ask the god to protect us.”

“There may be a safer place than even the temple,” said Theido. “I have lands at Erlott which need the work of many hands. Go there and present yourself to my steward, called Toflin. Tell him his master sends you to him that he may give you shelter and food and land to work. And give him this.” Theido drew a small round token from the pouch at his belt: a clay tile baked hard with his signet pressed into it.

The peasant stared at the signet tile and then at Theido. He seemed as much dismayed by it as by Nin himself. “Are we to be sold into slavery because we have no place to go? We have left our homes to become serfs of the King’s men?” He had spoken loudly, and there came a murmur from the rest of the group standing a little way off.

“My offer,” explained Theido, “is honorable. You may take it or no. I do not withdraw it. I keep no serfs; all who work my lands are free and enjoy the fruits of their labors in equal share. If you doubt my words, go there and see for yourselves. In any case you are free to leave or stay once you have seen. No one compels you to do as I bid.

“Only know this: if you stay, you will be required to do your share and to work the land that is given you. If you do not, your place will be given to another who will.”

The man looked at the token in Theido’s hand. He reached out for it hesitantly, casting a sideways glance to the others in his band.

“We, too, are honorable, though we are but men of low birth.” He snatched the tile out of Theido’s hand. “We will go to your lands at Erlott and inquire of your steward; we will see how he receives us. If he bears the good will of his master, you will find us busy in your fields when you return from your duties.” He bowed stiffly from the waist and turned to go. He paused and turned again. “If it be as you say, you have our thanks, my lord.”

“I do not ask for thanks, but only that you will do as we have agreed. That shall be to me more than gratitude itself.”

The man bowed again and went to where his people waited to learn the outcome of the interview just concluded. Words were exchanged quickly; there were mumbled whispers all around, and suddenly the band was on it’s way again, but bolder this time and changed in mood. Several of the refugees waved their thanks to Theido as they passed, and all talked excitedly together as they moved hurriedly away down the trail.

“Well, you have done your fellows a fine service this night. I hope you will not have cause to regret your kindness,” said Ronsard when they had gone.

“One never regrets a kindness, my friend. But I have no doubt that I have gained as much as they in the bargain.”

“How so?”

“Good land needs the plowman’s hand to bring it to life and a husband to care for it. If I did not have men to work my fields, they would soon become barren and worthless. These men do me great service by helping me care for my lands. Rightly managed, there is more than enough for everyone.”

“Well, I hope we may see your trust proved true. But why not? The realm has known nothing but peace these many years and we are at peace still.”

“I wonder,” replied Theido, “I wonder.”

Quentin hastened along wide corridors lined with rich tapestries toward the Dragon King’s apartments. Upon rising, he had been summoned to meet with the King in his private council chambers, and had dressed in fresh garments-a new tunic and trousers of forest green and a short summer cloak of blue, edged in green and gold. The finely embroidered cloak, fastened with a broach of gold at his shoulder, fluttered out behind him as he swept along.

Just as he stepped up to the door which opened onto Eskevar’s apartments, the door swung inward and Oswald, the Queen’s chamberlain, emerged. “Sir, if you would but come aside with me, my Lady would have a word with you.”

Oswald smiled his request, but his gray eyes insisted; so Quentin nodded his assent and followed the chamberlain. They withdrew to a room just across the corridor from the King’s chambers. Oswald knocked upon the door and stepped in. “Quentin is here, Your Majesty.”

Quentin stepped into the room behind the chamberlain and saw Queen Alinea sitting on a bench in the center of the room with her hands folded in her lap. Her eyes were bent toward the floor, but her look was faraway, and Quentin saw lines of worry creasing her noble brow.

When he had entered, the Queen sat up and her face was suddenly transformed by a beautiful smile. Instantly the dim chamber seemed filled with light. She rose as he came to her and held out her arms to embrace him. Quentin hugged her and brushed her pale cheek with his lips; she kissed both of his.

“Quentin, you have come! Oh, I am so glad you are here. Your journey was not unpleasant, I trust? It is good to have you back. The months seem long when you are away.” She gripped his hand in both of hers and led him to the bench. “Please, sit with me but a little.” To Quentin’s glance she answered, “I know the King is waiting, but it is important. I would have a word with you before you enter his presence.”

Her sparkling green eyes, deep and serene as forest pools, searched his for a moment, as if deciding whether the hearer would be strong enough to bear the words she had to say. “Quentin,” she said softly, “the King is very ill.”

“So I have learned from Bria.” He blushed. “We met this morning when I arrived. She told me of her concern for his health.”

“But I think even Bria docs not guess how far he has fallen. She is devoted to her father and loves him with all her heart, but she does not know him as I do. Something consumes him before my eyes; it gnaws at him from within, stealing his strength and sapping away his spirit.”

Again in answer to Quentin’s look, she continued, “Do not wonder at what I tell you; you will see for yourself soon enough. He has greatly changed since last you saw him. It is all I can do to keep from weeping in his presence.” She appeared to be on the verge of tears at that very moment

“My Queen, I am your servant. Say the word and I will do whatever you require.”

“Only this. Take no unusual notice of him when you go in to him; be to him as normally. Do not let on that you believe him ill, or that I have told you anything of his condition.”

“I promise it. But is there nothing else I may do?”