The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

tricks that didn’t even require magic. Still, the court expected this sort of thing.
    And feared it.
    “How fares the king?” Baamin prodded the sharp-eyed, sharp-nosed ferret of a man. Bruce was a notorious gossip. He was also master of the king’s shoes and in a position to observe King Darcine in private.
    Bruce of the Shoes shrugged, then leaned closer to whisper in Baamin’s ear. “Good thing that foreign ambassador with the unpronounceable name sent a cask of beta’arack from Rossemeyer. Liquor perks him up like nothing else lately. A good strong dose of the stuff first thing in the morning works wonders on the king’s spirits and constitution.”
    The liquor wasn’t the only cause of the king’s high spirits these days. Shayla was well and gravid. Therefore, Baamin knew, the king gained in strength. Today.
    Baamin nodded sagely. They’d seen Darcine’s spells of near manic strength before. But every day of good health was followed by longer and longer periods of depression and weakness.
    If anything happened to the dragon or her dragonets . . .
    Anxiously, Baamin looked around for signs of the forces that interfered with his magic and the dragons.
    He straightened his shoulders and stretched to his full height, slight as it was. There were appearances to be kept up. While the king felt so well and strong, Baamin would attend banquets and balls day and night. There had been precious few celebrations in the last ten years.
    “Ah, Baamin.” Darcine waved for the magician to approach him.
    Brightly gowned ladies and richly jeweled men filled the Great Hall with shrill laughter. All were masked for the event, except the king. Baamin sensed the tension in the posture and rapidly darting eyes of the nobility. They must know this gaiety was only temporary.
    “Your Grace.” Baamin bowed to his monarch.
    As he straightened, he took the opportunity to carefully survey the tall figure of his friend. New tunic and trews of golden brocade, padded to disguise too thin limbs and slumping shoulders. A small replica of the Coraurlia, the glass dragon-crown, rested on his head. The token of his kingship contained hardly any heavy glass at all. Darcine’s neck couldn’t support the full weight of the crown.
    The king didn’t need to mask his face. His entire body was cloaked in the guise of health.
    “You’re late, my friend. But the night is still young. There is plenty of time to sample the delicacies the cook has provided.” The usual feverish flush on King Darcine’s face was now replaced with a more even and natural coloring.
    Paint or healing?
    “Have you seen aught of my cousin? Krej promised to attend this little gathering.” King Darcine snagged a goblet of wine from a passing servant. “He is so very entertaining.”
    “Nay, Your Grace. Lord Krej has not privileged me with news of his activities.” Baamin wanted to discount Jaylor’s theories that the rogue magician operating in the south answered to Krej. The king’s cousin, with his reputation as a fierce negotiator, was their only hope of avoiding war if the prince could not be found soon.
    “We can enjoy ourselves without Krej. He does tell such outrageous stories though. When the ambassadors come, his wit will charm then into a favorable marriage settlement.” The king made to move back to his guests.
    “Your Grace, have you forgotten the most important element in the negotiations? Your son.” He paused while the king turned back, his face and posture slumped under the strain of dealing with that matter.
    Laughter rose and surged toward the entrance. Newcomers stood there waiting for all to acknowledge their presence before entering. Baamin peered toward the bubble of excitement. Too many people crowded too close to the masked lord and lady for him to see more than a swirl of bronze and ebony lam’ fabric. Costly stuff.
    “Perhaps this is your cousin, Your Grace, and his lady.” Baamin gestured toward the brilliant figures.
    “If not his lady, then another beautiful companion. Krej does have wonderful luck with women.” Darcine winked knowingly. “Lady Rhodia is still recovering from her latest confinement. Yet another daughter. Very disappointing. I wonder who replaces her in my cousin’s affections, and his bed, this time?”
    “I don’t think Lord Krej will keep her long enough for anyone to find out. Even your bold cousin won’t risk another of Lady Rhodia’s temper tantrums.” The last time Lady Rhodia had caught