“That I can do,” Andressat said. “I swear on Camwyn’s Claw—” He saw the king’s brows go up. “Camwyn Dragonmaster,” he said. “Do you not acknowledge him as a saint?”

“Indeed we do,” the King said. “Though here our patron is Gird, we recognize Falk and Camwyn as well—my younger brother, in fact, is named Camwyn in his honor; that’s why it startled me.”

Andressat relaxed a trifle. “I did not know that, Sir King. My pardon. But I swear on Camwyn’s Claw to reveal nothing you tell or show me of this matter.”

“Well, then,” the king said. “Such regalia exist. Dorrin Verrakai found these things in her family’s estate when she took it over, bound in different shapes by blood magery.”

Andressat flicked his fingers.

“Yes, evil magery,” the king went on. “And evil had already spread rumors of it, I believe in hopes that I would have Dorrin Verrakai killed as well, believing her a traitor. But she brought the regalia to me, gave them to me, of her own will.” The king paused, moved a scroll on his desk back and forth. “But not, it seems, in accordance with their will.”

“Their will?” Andressat felt the hairs rise on his arms and neck.

“Yes. I told you I saw the crown rise in the air. It is apparently some magery inherent in these objects—they wish to be hers—they wish her to take and use them.”

“To overthrow you?”

“I do not know. Nor does she. But when the Marshal-General and a paladin of Gird tried to remove the box from our treasury, it became impossible to move and sealed itself—the wood joining as if all one piece—and now it opens only when Duke Verrakai herself commands it.” The king sighed. “It has offered no injury to me, while so concealed, but from what you say its mere presence here could mean invasion from the south. When, do you think?”

“Not this year,” Andressat said. He still wanted to know what the things looked like, but an assessment of the military situation was a far more comfortable topic. “Vaskronin has troops, yes, but only four or five hundred. He seeks to influence by stealth, at this time; Phelan’s former captain Arcolin—”

“Now a count in my realm,” the king said, “as I’m sure you know.”

“Yes, my lord. Captain—Count—Arcolin says he is sure it’s Vaskronin’s men both making and passing false coinage to overturn the domination of the Guild League and give him free access to the Guild League roads in the south. I believe he has re-formed—or never gave up—his alliance with the pirates along the south coast. Certainly my attempt to ship wine and wool out of Confaer has been frustrated, both ashore and afloat, while thieves and pirates prosper.”

“Kieri worried about that,” the king said. “Before he learned his heritage, he warned us about the dangers of disturbance in Aarenis, but no one wanted to hear it. The mountains have always kept us safe from southern wars.”