“They will be formidable. You’ve shown us that, Edyon. Lord Darby reports that the Pitorians are sending men to disrupt the production of demon smoke. We can only hope they are successful.”
“Didn’t Lord Darby say that the boy army was in the south of Brigant?”
“The Pitorians believe some of these boys’ brigades are. I’ve had various reports and it seems some are in the south—actually not far from here, just over the border.” Perhaps seeing the look of concern on Edyon’s face, Thelonius said dismissively, “But they aren’t an army—they need a leader and a real man’s army behind them. They have neither.”
“But wasn’t the latest rumor that Harold—”
“Harold is a boy. Younger than you and just as inexperienced. He’s no leader. He’s no Boris, no Aloysius. I’d be delighted if he was in charge. I hear he’s fond of fashion and changes his hairstyle daily.”
Edyon brushed his hand with a small feeling of shame over the new, rather showy, velvet jacket he’d put on that morning. “But won’t he have advisers who do have experience?”
“Yes, Edyon, and he’ll learn in time, as you will. But for now, he’s just a boy.”
So that was how Thelonius thought of Edyon. Just a boy? At times that was all he felt like. A boy trailing along, following his father, a man who had been a stranger to him until recently and often still seemed like a stranger. And how could he tell this man that his oldest friend was plotting against him? It would sound ludicrous.
When they reached a confluence of two rivers, they stopped and made camp for the night. Tables were laid out with wine and food. The warm light from the setting sun gave everything a golden glow. Edyon stood by the water, watching the sun fall behind the mountain. The camp lanterns began to shine out.
Again, Byron joined him, saying, “Abask really is surprising. There is beauty everywhere I look.”
Edyon glanced at Byron, catching his eye for what seemed like a long moment. Does he mean me? Is Byron flirt-ing with me? Edyon couldn’t help but smile. No! Don’t be ridiculous.
Byron continued, “Will you make a home here? Castle Edyon? It could be stunning.”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps. But everything here is so . . . so empty. There’s not a village, not even a house left standing from when the Abasks were here.”
“They all lived in mud huts,” Regan said, joining them and immediately dispelling whatever flirtation might have been in the air.
“I’m not sure that’s true,” Byron muttered to Edyon.
“They were a primitive bunch. Inbreds,” Regan continued.
“I’m not so sure about that either,” Byron muttered again, and more loudly he replied, “My father has much respect for them, Lord Regan.”
“Does he now? And have you met any Abasks yourself, Byron?”
“Um, no.”
“Alas, I have . . . as I said, evil-looking inbreds.”
Regan looked at Edyon as if waiting for him to admit to knowing at least one Abask. Edyon had never wanted to punch anyone so badly before.
“Still, it’s certainly an impressive location,” Regan continued. “It would be a magnificent place for a castle. And it’s not so impractical. It’s only two days’ ride to Calia if you go over the pass. And you could have the roads improved. The land in the river valleys is fertile for farming. There are plenty of forests for wood, for hunting. There’s also some old copper, tin, and silver mines, which could be reopened.”
It almost sounded like Regan was planning on taking Abask for himself when his plot came to fruition.
“It’s a huge amount of work. And a huge amount of money,” Edyon said, wondering if Regan would say more.
Byron added, “But it could be wonderful. Perhaps you could utilize the mountainside to create waterfalls, pools, and gardens.”
Edyon nodded. “They might even surpass Lord Regan’s fountains and terraces.”
“That would be a commendable venture, Your Highness,” Regan replied. “I could see that this would be a place of wonder.”
Yes, but who do you imagine living here? Me or you?
And then it seemed Regan couldn’t resist adding, “It certainly would be a wonderful place for you and your family to live—a wonderful place for your children to grow up. Your wife would be a lucky woman indeed.”
Edyon pasted a pleasant smile on his face. “She would be. Though I’ve yet to find the right woman for me.”
“The chancellor is keen to help,” Regan said. “He’s already drawing up a list of potential wives for your father to review.”