Kingdoms of the Night (The Far Kingdoms) Read Online Free Page A

the Antero’s commercial empire. As my only child Cligus naturally saw himself filling that role — dismissing the rights of any rival among my many nephews, nieces and cousins. I was not so certain he was the wisest choice and had been delaying the decision.
    The delay had become a sore point. In a way, I suppose, he was caught in a cycle of my making. The more I delayed the more he feared, and the more he feared the more his nervousness led him to do or say the wrong thing.
    Although I knew I wasn’t ready to face the issue yet, I forced certainty into my response: “I’ve not forgotten my promise of a meeting,” I said, “It’s near the very top of my list.”
    “When would it be convenient?” he pressed. “Seeing you look so well gives me hope that appointment might be soon.”
    Suspicion tangled its roots with guilt and I snapped back: “When I’m ready, by the gods, and not a moment before.”
    Cligus flushed. “I’m sorry, father,” he said. “I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds.” I saw Omerye in his eyes and the stubborn tilt of chin and regretted my outburst.
    I squeezed his arm, saying, “Pay no attention to my temper, son. I’ve much on my mind.”
    He took heart from this. “Then we will talk soon?”
    “You have my word on it,” I said.
    The platform loomed up near the riverbank, decked with bunting, streamers and huge, extravagantly decorated maps of our far-flung trading routes. Framing the platform was an enormous pavilion blazing with color, which hid the new ship and its cradle from view until it was time for the unveiling.
    As I climbed the steps of the platform a handsome young man beamed down.
    “Uncle Amalric!” he said with honest pleasure. He grabbed a cup of cold, spiced wine from a passing server and offered it to me. “If you drink it quickly,” he said, “I can get you another.” He laughed. “I happen to be well connected to the fellow who’s paying for all this.”
    “There’s a good nephew,” I said as I took the cup from Hermias. I hoisted it up. “Just to let the gods know we’re serious,” I drank and the wine stoked my cheer at seeing him.
    “Now, this is the proper way to greet a fellow,” I joked to Cligus. “A cup of wine to light the panoply.”
    I was instantly sorry for my silly little jest. Cligus glowered, taking offense where if implied at all it was by accident.
    “Do you really think it’s good for you, father?” he said. “Wine, so early?”
    I pretended I didn’t hear — one of the few benefits of age — and merely smiled and took another deep drink.
    Cligus gave Hermias a look that needed no words to sum up his feelings. He thought the young man was an opportunist of the worst sort who pandered to the more foolish desires of his elderly father. Hermias pointedly glared back. I was surprised to see loathing in his look and wondered what Cligus had done to earn it.
    My son had cause to see him as his rival. Hermias was in his middle twenties, grandson of my late brother, Porcemus. Since he’d first come to my attention, Hermias better matched my own view of the child Omerye and I should have produced. He was intelligent, honest and aware high-birth made him no better a man than any other. He didn’t have the same flair for the traders’ art I had at his age but he labored hard to make up for it, working every position, no matter how low, as he climbed in my esteem as well as my organization.
    Adding coin to the growing heap in his bowl, was the fact that he’d recently returned from his Finding — a long and difficult maiden trading voyage whose jump off point had been Jeypur — that distant and most barbaric of ports. From all accounts it had been a great success.
    If any should doubt the ways of the gods are twisted, consider this: Porcemus was the laziest, most cowardly and unpleasant of all my father’s many children. As the oldest it was he who expected to take over the business from Paphos Karima Antero. But my father,