The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

Quinnault for reconsideration.
    “If Moncriith the Bloodmage guides your king and princess, then I have even greater reason to seek elsewhere for my bride.” Quinnault stared at the ambassador, challenging him to look away first.
    At last the man slid the rolled parchment of the treaty into the wide sleeve of his robe.
    Quinnault took a deep breath and continued. “My Lord of Rossemeyer, I must also reject the offer of your king’s daughter.” Quinnault directed his attention to the next issue. “The Three Kingdoms of Coronnan, Rossemeyer, and SeLenicca occupy this continent in an uneasy peace. If I marry a princess from either of my neighbors, I will again upset the balance of power.”
    “I understand, Your Grace.” Ambassador General Jhorge-Rosse nodded his head graciously. He shot a victorious glance at his counterpart from SeLenicca. For the moment, neither one had won over the other.
    “Your Grace!” Hanic protested. “You have just given King Lorriin of SeLenicca an excuse to invade us.”
    “He will seek war anyway. Making their princess my queen would not guarantee our safety. Read your history—or consult with the Lord Sambol about the number of times his border city has faced invasion.”
    “Reading is a waste of time for all but priests,” Hanic scoffed.
    “Reading skills may be reserved for priests and magicians, but it is not a waste of time!” Quinnault replied, holding his own anger in check. “I studied history when I trained to be a priest. I know that SeLenicca tries to take our resources by force every fifteen years or so. They refuse to nurture their own land and see ours as their rightful pantry when they can’t buy food elsewhere. Marrying the Princess of SeLenicca will give us a few seasons of peace, nothing more.”
    The ambassador narrowed his eyes as if he hadn’t expected Quinnault to be so well informed.
    “Your Grace, you must marry and get an heir,” Lord Balthazaan reminded them all. “Do you remember what happened the last time a king of Coronnan failed to do so? We endured three generations of civil war trying to find a successor!” He stood, leaning his knuckles on the table. His eyes blazed with fear. He had suffered large losses during the war. His lovely dark-eyed daughter was the only asset he had left beside a badly damaged keep and nearly ruined farmlands.
    “You have rejected all viable offers, Your Grace. Where do we look for a new candidate?” Hanic nearly screamed. He stared at Katie. Questions and fear swept across his face in rapid succession.
    “Her Highness, Maarie Kaathliin of Terrania, will be my bride,” Quinnault said quietly.
    All eyes in the room turned to Katie. She blushed slightly and lowered her eyes in maidenly modesty.
    “The treaty I have negotiated with her father, King Kinnsell requires that I marry her tomorrow evening.”
    “Your Grace!” every lord in the room protested.
    “This haste is most unseemly,” Hanic said. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the princess, looking for flaws.
    “Forgive the interruption, Your Grace, my lords.” Old Lyman stood from his chair near the corner. “I realize that magicians are supposed to be neutral advisers in this new government, but I have some pertinent information.”
    The lords turned their malevolent glares to the aging magician.
    “Senior Magician Nimbulan has been in secret negotiation with King Kinnsell for nearly a year.” Lyman looked at Quinnault, his eyes twinkling and his mouth twitching at the obvious lie.
    Katie coughed delicately into her tiny hand. Quinnault recognized her failing attempt to keep a straight face. Were the two conspirators in this lie?
    “Even now, Nimbulan is working with King Kinnsell in completing the treaty. This marriage has been planned for a long time. But we feared news of it would jeopardize the rather delicate negotiations. A wedding tomorrow will not be in quite so much haste as you imagine.” The old man paused while he swallowed deeply. He cocked his head as if listening.
    Who gave him orders?
    Quinnault hoped desperately that the dragons spoke to him directly.
    “Look at our king, my lords!” Hanic turned his attention away from Lyman’s almost plausible explanation. After all, Nimbulan wasn’t present to confirm or deny the lie. “He’s head over heels in love with the chit. He can’t have met her more than once. In love after one meeting. She’s worked some form of enchantment on him. She’s a witch or a demon. Who is to