The Thief King: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Two by Craig R. Saunders, Craig Saunders Read Free Book Online Page B

before Orvane Wense once more. His face was a study in
serenity.
                For
his part, the Thane of Kar was calm on the outside, but his mind raced as he
thought of the opportunities this man presented. To have a network of spies
unparalleled in Sturma, perhaps in the whole of Rythe…he knew not what rested
across the wide eastern seas, but certainly nothing so…intricate…could exist in
the Drayman lands to the west.
                He
wondered by what means the man before could know the things he knew. It was by
some means other than the mundane. He was sure of that much. But his new found
friend was tight-lipped on the subject.
                He
could have the information tortured out of the man, but then, what good would
that do? He would have to labour in ignorance, at least while it suited him to
do so.
                'And
so the Lord Protector?'
                'The
artefact is with him. He travels alone. Should you wish it, he could be dead by
morning.'
                An
attractive proposition. But Farinder’s death would avail him little. Already
the Stewards would be divided. No Thane could become a Steward…but then the
Stewards were only a measure to protect the crown. Until one came along who was
worthy?
                But
none save the royal line could wear the crown. What use usurping a throne with
no symbol of office? None would support the king, not without the Crown of
Kings. And that rested in the Cathedral at Kus, a useless lump of metal and
gems for all to see and none to hold.
                But
if it was true…the Stewards and the priests could hold it…did Farinder intend to
take the crown for himself?
                Was
that the reason behind this journey? Was that why the Lord Protector of the
whole of Sturma travelled light, heading south, in total secrecy? He even
travelled under the guise of an itinerant bard, one with means, to be sure.
From what he knew of the Lord Protector, the man liked his comforts. Wense
could not imagine the man travelling as a bard down on his luck.
                He
knew little of the man before his time in office, save that he had been a
bandit, pardoned and absolved of all crimes by his friend, Tarn, the last of
the line of kings. Tarn had managed to save Sturma from Hurth, Wense's greatest
rival among the northern Thanes, but at the same time had provided for the
future. Had he died without proclamation they could have chosen a new king…
                Wait…if
the crown could not be worn…
                What
a fool! The crown could not be worn by another because there was still a king.
                'Gods,
I am a fool!'
                'My
lord?' enquired the man before him.
                'Nothing.
Leave me. Allow me to think. Slow him down. Return to me when you have done
whatever it is you do. Tell me of it tomorrow, but for now leave me.'
                The
man walked out on silent feet. Wense did not notice him leaving.
                Everyone
had presumed that the crown had chosen this man Farinder, and that he had
followed the dying king’s last proclamation, to act as Steward to the country.
He had named no successor. Therefore, in the eyes of the Thanes, the issue had
been decided…there were to be no more kings. The Stewards would hold the crown,
for all purposes, and the Crown of Kings would reside as it always did in the
Cathedral on the Plains.
                But
why, then, could only the man Farinder hold the crown? What if his ability to
hold the crown was not because he was eligible by dint of the magic of the crown
to hold it, nay, to wear it even, but because he was its steward, protector of
the crown…why could none other wear it?
                Unless…Wense
turned over the possibility in his mind…
                If
it were true, then why the