Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

backlands might help to cool his blood.'
    'I see,' saidJordan. 'So I'm playing a villain, am I?'
    'Viktor's not that bad,' said Gawaine quickly. 'He's head-strong, and too easily led for his own good, but at heart he's a true Prince. I've sworn to defend him with my life.'
    Jordanmade a mental note to talk to Roderik and Gawaine separately; their views on Viktor seemed to
    differ quite a bit, and that might be important. A new thought struck him, and he gave Roderik a hard look.
    'You still haven't said why you chose me for this job. All right, I'm an excellent actor, one of the best, but there are others almost as good as me. And most of them are much better known these days than I am.'
    'That was part of the problem,' said Roderik. 'If one of your more illustrious colleagues was suddenly to disappear, it would be noticed. Questions would be asked. However, in your case . . . well, you understand, I'm sure. And there was one other reason why we particularly wanted you.'
    'Oh yes?' saidJordan. 'And what might that be?'
    'You're a conjurer, as well as an actor.'
    Jordanlooked at him blankly for a moment, and then nodded slowly. 'Of course, the royal Blood . . .'
    The Kings of Redhart were magic-users, and had been for generations. Every member of the royal line inherited the ability
    to manipulate one of the four elements: earth, air, fire and water. The spreading Bloodlines were jealously guarded and nurtured down the centuries, as it was discovered that the purer the Blood, the more powerful would be the resulting magic. For a while the royal line became dangerously interbred, producing monsters and mules more often than normal children. These days there were strict laws and traditions to protect the magic-carrying Bloodlines, and the elemental powers only remained truly powerful in the carefully monitored royal line.
    'Prince Viktor has the fire magic,' said Roderik. 'Whoever was to take his place had to be able to counterfeit this magic convincingly. You're a conjurer, Jordan - a few flames on demand shouldn't prove too difficult for you.'
    Jordanfrowned unhappily. 'They'll see through it. They're bound to. My tricks are good, but they're still only tricks and illusions.'
    Roderik smiled, and shook his head reassuringly. 'No one will suspect anything. They'll see only what they expect to see.'
    Jordanlooked at him for a moment, and then shrugged. 'You've obviously put a lot of thought into this, so I suppose you must know what you're doing.'
    'Then may I suggest, your highness, that we get a bloody move on,' said Sir Gawaine. 'We're pressed for time.'
    Jordan nodded, and went to get his horse. Roderik sent Sir Gawaine with him, just to keep him company. They walked in silence. Jordan didn't know what to say to the knight, and Gawaine seemed content to leave it that way. They walked quickly through the darkening evening, their steps echoing dully back from the stone walls on either side of them. The houses were silent, and no lights showed past the closed shutters, but Jordan had no doubt he and Gawaine were still being watched. People in small towns didn't miss much, if they could help it. Jordan sneaked a few sidelong glances at Gawaine. He wasn't yet sure what to make of the knight. The man was obviously competent, not to mention dangerous, but there was a bitter, brooding quality to Sir Gawaine that intrigued Jordan. If he was going to get answers from anybody in the conspiracy about what was really going on, Gawaine looked to be
    the best bet. It might pay to cultivate the knight . . Jordan found his horse still waiting patiently beside the parked caravan at the edge of the town. He wasn't surprised. He didn't even hobble his horse these days; he didn't have to. Smokey was well trained, and too lazy to go anywhere she didn't absolutely have to. There was a time Jordan had worried someone might steal her, but of late the ominous runes and curses he'd painted on the sides of his caravan kept everyone at a respectable distance. After the Demon War, even footpads and outlaws had discovered a new respect for the supernatural. Jordan looked proudly at the runes he'd painted. He hadn't a clue what they meant, but they looked great. He glanced at Gawaine, who was studying the grazing horse. His gaze suggested that he was used to companions who rode a better class of animal. Jordan had to agree that Smokey wasn't exactly pedigree stock. She was mostly brown, with white patches, and reputedly even older than she looked.