"Good. That gives me a safer place to start." He raised his voice again. "Sional-you are ten years old. It is your birthday. You are waking up in the morning."
Abruptly all the tenseness poured out of Sional's body, and a happy smile transformed his face.
"Good, a safe time, and a happy one," Peregrine muttered. "Sional, what is to happen today?"
"Today I get my first horse!" Sional's voice really did sound like a ten-year-old's, and Talaysen started in surprise. "It's my birthday present from father, a real horse, not a pony! Victor and I get to go to the Palace stables and pick it out, too! Victor's going to teach me trick riding! Then Master Darian will give me the present from mother that he's been saving for me; it's a harp, a big harp, with lots more strings than my little harp!"
"Why isn't your mother giving it to you?" Peregrine asked, curiosity creeping into his voice.
"She's dead," Sional said, matter-of-factly. "She died when we moved to this place. That was a long time ago, though. I hardly remember her at all. Just the way she sang-" His voice faltered a moment. "She was a wonderful musician and Master Darian says that if she hadn't been a woman and a princess she'd have been a Bard and-"
"Stop." Peregrine glanced over at Talaysen, with one eyebrow raised. Talaysen didn't have to ask what he was thinking.
A princess? Is that real-or just a child's fantasy and an old teacher's flattery?
"Sional, who is your father?" Peregrine asked, slowly and carefully.
"The King." Once again, the voice was completely matter-of-fact. "I have to call him My Lord Father; Master Darian calls him Your Majesty. Everybody else has to call him Your Royal Highness. But I don't see him very often."
"Stop." Peregrine was sweating again. "Sional, where do you live?"
"In the Dowager's Palace."
"No, I mean what land do you live in?"
"Oh, that. Birnam. It's the red place on the map. The green one next to it is Leband, the blue one is Falwane, the yellow one is-"
"Stop." Now Talaysen was sweating.
"Do realize what we have here?" he whispered. "This is the Crown Prince of Birnam-no-the King of Birnam!" He groped for Rune's hand and held it.
"Tell me!" the Gypsy demanded. "Tell me what you know of this!"
"I have to think," Talaysen replied, shivering despite the heat of the wagon. Dear God, what a cockatrice they had hatched! Their foundling was the rightful King of Birnam-and small wonder there were assassins seeking him. The current King was not likely to tolerate any rivals to his power.
"About six years ago, I think it was, the King of Birnam was overthrown by his brother. Mind you, the only reason I know about this is was because I was on the Guild Council at the time, and we were dealing with that entire business of Master Darian. The old man came to us with a boy he called his apprentice, claiming sanctuary with our branch of the Guild because he was supposedly in danger as a supporter of the former King."
"So your understanding is likely to be accurate, if sketchy?" Peregrine asked.
He nodded. "We did do some checking with the Guild in Birnam. The way I heard it, the brother slipped his men into the palace by night, murdered the King and all his supporters, and by dawn there was a new King on the throne and all the bloodstains had been politely cleaned away."
Peregrine snorted. "How-tidy of them."
Talaysen shrugged. "At that point, I imagine that there was nothing anyone could do. Darian swore to the Guild that he'd escaped death at the hands of the assassins as one of the old King's retainers-and he swore that both the King and his only child were dead. Obviously that wasn't true."
"Obviously," Peregrine said, with heavy irony. "Well, our Kestrel has turned into a most peculiar cuckoo. What are we to do with him? It is plain that his uncle knows that he is alive, and where he is, or we would not have killers at our wagons."