Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (top novels of all time TXT) 📗

Lancaster. He entered as soon as I opened the door. As closed it behind him I could tell he was agitated. In fact, looking at the aura around him he fairly pulsed with rage. I hadn’t seen James that angry since the battle in Lancaster Castle.

He paced the room without speaking, so I left him alone and poured myself a cup of wine. I may not have mentioned it before, but the suite had a very nice wine selection laid out in the central room. “Would you like some?” I asked him.

“Screw the cup, bring me the bottle,” he replied abruptly.

James was not known for drinking to excess, but I damn sure wasn’t going to question him. I handed him the bottle and he turned it up, taking a long draught before sitting down on the couch. I relaxed a bit; now that he was sitting he didn’t seem quite so explosive. “You look like your day has gone about as well as mine,” I ventured.

“I wouldn’t know about that. Did your son just piss all over you and tell you to go to hell?” his tone implied I didn’t have the faintest idea how bad his day had been.

“Marc said that?” I was shocked. Throughout our entire lives he had lived only to please his father, not that he always succeeded.

“No, he didn’t say any of that. He has joined the priests of the Evening Star and disavowed his inheritance, no warning, no word, no reason,” he finished and took another long swig from the bottle.

“He wants to be a priest? What the hell?” I couldn’t imagine it. The last few years his only interests had been women and wine. I still wasn’t sure if I trusted the goddess of the Evening Star anyway. Father Tonnsdale had set a bad precedent for me by poisoning my parents and almost poisoning everyone at Lancaster as well. I tossed my glass back and looked for another bottle. I didn’t think I could pry the first one away from James.

“He wasn’t at the house when I arrived yesterday. He sent me a note saying he would call on me today. Arrogant pup!” He drank some more. At the rate he was going I wondered how long he would last.

“And today?” I sat down on the couch next to him. I had my own bottle now.

“Today he showed up at the door wearing a white robe, told me he had been ‘called’ by the goddess. He gave me this,” he pulled out a crumpled sheet of parchment. I took it from him and scanned the lines. It spelled out in clear words that Marcus of Lancaster was giving up his inheritance and all claim to the duchy of Lancaster.

“And you just let him?” I regretted saying that immediately after the words left my lips. The wine had overridden my normal good sense.

“Hell no! I raged at him! I was so damn angry I wanted to throttle him right there! But he was unmoved. Calm as a ship in the eye of a storm. That made me angrier than anything I think. He just listened to me, then left.” James seemed calmer now, and a little tipsy. “Mordecai, tell me something… and be honest.”

“Certainly your grace.”

“None of that ‘your grace’ shit! I’m asking you as one man to another, as a father to his son’s best friend,” his face was flushed. “Was I a good father? Did I drive my son to this? He always seemed happy, what did I do wrong?”

I was completely at a loss. James had always been a towering figure in my life, the picture of confidence and command; to see him so vulnerable shook me to the core. “Marc loves you James. He always did, but he also feared you, as any son fears and respects his father. I think he felt a lot of pressure to live up to your expectations, but I don’t think it was too great a burden. He never gave me any cause to think he wanted to escape like this.”

“Then why would he do this?” He had his hands over his face, possibly to hide his tears, but I would never say so.

“James, I don’t think this is any reflection on you. Rather it sounds to me as though something has happened with him. He wouldn’t do this on a whim, and I’m sure he didn’t do it just to hurt you.” I leaned over to pat him on the back. Normally I would never have dared be so familiar, but right now James seemed to need a friend more than a vassal.

“Thank you Mordecai,” he uncovered his face and leaned back, throwing his arms over the back of the couch. “You remind me a lot of your father, though I didn’t know him that well.”

I didn’t know how to reply to that, so I kept my silence and poured myself another glass. The wine was getting to me as well by now. Idly I wondered what would happen if we were summoned before the king while inebriated.

“Where’s that feisty girl of yours?”

“She left me,” I replied.

“Well damn! That deserves a drink,” he raised his bottle so I followed his example. Wiping his lips he went on, “Why aren’t you out chasing her down? I wouldn’t think you’d let her go that easy.”

“It’s complicated.”

“It always seems that way. Don’t let your brain get in the way of your heart boy. The brain always fucks these things up. Trust me on this. Not that I’ve ever been able to follow my own advice. Ha!” He took another swallow. Another knock at the door ended our conversation.

I managed a straight line to the door. I answered as I opened it, “Hello?” It was another of the king’s messengers.

“His majesty sends word for your lordship and his grace, the Duke of Lancaster to attend him in his quarters,” said the messenger. He waited patiently, as if he intended to escort us there.

“James,” I said, looking back.