The coronation of King Maldan I came off without any further incident, once the Royal Regalia were restored to their rightful place, and the Hand of Fortune had, if not front row seats, at least really good ones. Near the front and just off to the right in the vast nave of the Great Temple.

For all that it was a hurried affair, with war looming on the horizon, the coronation was done with all pomp and ceremony, all the forms and traditions observed, and no room left for doubt that there was a new, and very legitimate, king on the throne of Nolkior.

After a rule of almost thirty years, there were many present who remembered no king other than the elderly Garinalt, but the general consensus seemed to be that a good choice had been made. Maldan had governed the royal seat ably for many years, and was a proven war leader… between volcanic eruptions, barbarian invasions, and now the threat of attack from Tharkia, people were nervous, and they wanted stability, continuity and strength. King Maldan seemed to embody all three.

While there were many parties throughout the city that evening, the new king made only a perfunctory appearance at the official Coronation Ball before retiring to his private chambers, with his closest advisors, to go over the latest intelligence from the north and from the east. The Hand, however, enjoyed the free-flowing food and drink long into the night, along with the congratulations and flattery of much of the Court. The story of the stolen Regalia had been as suppressed as far as possible, but various garbled versions of the event had already circulated throughout every social stratum of the city, and the wisdom of Mariala’s advice to Maldan had thus proved itself.

“There is no way to keep something like this quiet,” she had told the King-elect after they had surreptitiously returned to the castle that morning, the Regalia carefully hidden within one of the many casks of Kaluran wine taken from the Zalik-mal warehouse. “The best lie is one that has a core of truth… let it go about that this Hadrel Kervisan, a known and infamous captain of the so-called “Thieves Guild,” had plotted to attempt to steal the Royal Regalia… after it had been removed from its unbreachable resting place.

“His plot was discovered, and he and his crew were foiled even as they set about implementing their ignoble plan. The virtue of this story, besides allowing you to hang the villain without risking false charges, is that it accommodates any bits of the real story that may leak out, allowing them to be passed off as corruptions or misunderstandings of the ‘actual’ facts.”

“There is wisdom in that,” the new monarch had replied thoughtfully. “In addition, it allows me to reward you all as befits your work on my behalf, both at the northern frontier and here in the capital, without undue questions from my nobles.

“Between the slaughter of the undead gülvini and the foiling of this nefarious plot – I have fought a long war with the damn Zalik-mal in Kolosür for years, so it is entirely believable that they might try to embarrass me or even prevent my ascension – and your involvement in bringing down that scum Bernan at the Tournament last year has not been forgotten…yes, no one will doubt you to be deserving of the honors I plan to bestow.”

What those honors might be, however, he gave no hint.

It wasn’t until the third day after the coronation that the Hand were summoned to Court for an evening audience with the new King. It was a small affair, but very formal – many of the highest lords and ladies of the realm were present, including Lady Lania, Countess of Kinen, and her daughter Carissa. The young maid could hardly container her excitement as Mariala, Vulk, Devrik, Erol, Toran and Korwin filed into the throne room, past the glittering assemblage of nobility on either side, to stand before the King.

The Royal Herald read aloud the accomplishments of the members of the Hand of Fortune in support of the throne of Nolkior, both to the current king and to his father before him. Mariala was embarrassed, Vulk gratified, Devrik stoic (but secretly quite pleased), Erol uncomfortable in the unfamiliar Court clothing, Korwin insufferably smug, and Toran bemused by it all.

“It pleases Us,” the King said once the herald had finished, “to reward these loyal servants of the Crown, as befits their service… though only one is actually Our subject.

“Dame Mariala Teryne-Danoc!”

Mariala stepped forward and went to one knee before the King.

“You are already a Knight of the Realm, and so We now name you a member of the Order of the Azure Horn, with all the rights and responsibilities thereof. We were well pleased to learn that your father has at last acknowledged you as his daughter and one of his heirs. We know something of such matters, of course, and are glad now to raise you up as the Margrave of Green Tower, a title dormant these last 80 years but now yours and your heirs as long as the Realm shall last. With this title comes possession of the Green Tower of Shalara as well as the income from various properties appertaining to said estate, both within the city and in the hinterlands. Rise Lady Mariala, Margrave of Green Tower!”

Mariala rose somewhat shakily to her feet, to the applause of the gathered nobles, and the herald stepped forward, pressing a packet of documents into her hands. Bowing to the throne, she stepped back and broke into a dazed grin.

“Ser Vulk Elida!” the King called out next. Vulk strode forward and also went to one knee, head bowed.

“You are already a knight of our Brother, Dorikon of Aurshal, but We know there will be no conflict in your accepting entry onto the Order of the Azure Horn as well. Accept also from Our hand the title to the estate of Krendan House, and all incomes from the properties appertaining thereto.”

Taking his own packet of deeds from the herald, Vulk rose, bowed and stepped back, as the next companion was called forward.

“Devrik Askalan, like most of your companions you are a son of another land. We understand that Our loyal vassal the Earl Kinen once wished to make you a Knight of Nolkior, but was unable to so honor an alien. We were present that day of the great Tournament, when the infamous Danyes Bernan was convicted for his treasons by the testimony and actions of you and your friends. So it greatly pleases Us now to finally reward you as you deserve – Rise Ser Devrik, Knight of the Order of the Silvereye, adopted son of Nolkior!”

Along with his patent of knighthood, Devrik also received the deed to a great house in the city, and the rental income from related properties, as he stepped back, making way for Erol. His stoic mask slipped as he grinned at Mariala and Vulk, his goal of knighthood at last achieved. Next on the list, the title of Equestrian in his own land…

“Erol Doritar, another son of Kildora, and wanderer in many lands – for the same reasons, and with the same pleasure, We make you a Knight of Nolkior as well, of the Order of the Silvereye, and grant to you such properties and monies as befits your new station. As with Ser Devrik, We know Lord Clarin would be most gratified to see you so graced today.”

Erol rose, bowed, and took his documents from the herald. It was a long way from the Taruthani Games in a Darikaz, to be sure, and nothing he’d ever expected… but it still wasn’t the Republic…

“Korwin Seaborn, scholar of that great eastern Empire that once held sway over these lands many centuries ago, We welcome you to our shores and make you a Knight of the Order of Shala. Accept such lands and rents as seem good to Us to bestow, and let them bind you to Our Realm in honor and amity.”

“And lastly, We would honor Toran, called the Quickhand, a son of our cousins the Khundari and a great warrior as well as a scholar. But We are lead to understand that by the oaths sworn to your own Prince, and the laws of your people and the custom of your land, you may not accept such honors as We would bestow. It is meet that this should be so, but still We would not see you, alone, go unrewarded for your courage and honor.

“In the papers which you yourself but lately brought to Our dear father, and so to Us, Prince Rhoghûn has proposed closer ties between his realm of Dürkon and Our own kingdom. In these troubled times this seems good to Us, and so you are named official Legate to Nolkior, and given unto your keeping is the storied mansion, built by one of your own in years past and long known amongst Our people as Khundari House. Hold it in safe keeping for your Prince, and as a refuge for those of your own folk who will come hither as an official embassy in due time.”

And with that, the audience was over. King Maldan rose with a smile for his new noblewoman and knights, and exited from the room by the door behind his throne. The rest of the Court moved in on the friends, offering congratulations, in varying degrees of sincerity, and angling to get close to these rising stars who seemed to have the favor, and perhaps the ear, of their new monarch.

Some time later they were pulled aside my the king’s major domo, and taken into a private chamber where he proceeded to fill them in on their new properties.

“It took some doing,” the little man said as he seated them around a large table, before taking his own seat at the head. “But the King wanted it so, and I managed to pull it off. Actually, the idea presented itself when I pointed out to His Majesty that the Lady Ethalyn the Elder had somehow wrangled ownership of Krendan House from  the Crown several years ago. It’s proximity to the Green Tower, which he already intended to bestow on Lady Mariala, inspired him to see what could be done in keeping your little group in close proximity…

“As you may have noticed, Lady Ethalyn the Elder is no longer at Court, having found things a bit hot for her… nothing can be proven of her involvement in the recent… unpleasantness… but it has been made clear she would be best served by a prolonged absence from the capital. Although it was also made clear that her daughter would be remaining – under the King’s benevolent protection, of course. In addition, the Lady thought it wise to divest herself of certain properties, not least of which was Krendan House.

“An interesting story there, Ser Vulk,” the major domo said in an aside. ” The mansion which now comes into your possession was originally built by the Kleros of Kasira who founded the temple to your Patron that sits nearby. It was during the period of rebuilding that followed the Great Fire of 2897, when the whole north side of the city, only a few years inside the then-new city walls, burned to the ground. Very few buildings survived (the Green Tower being one of them, my Lady), and New District was wide open for construction.

“Kleros Antros Krendan was young and ambitious and personally quite wealthy, and his construction of a temple to his Immortal Patron was quite a feather in his cap. Indeed, it seemed to spur him on to further heights, and he built both the scholarium and his own Klerosian mansion after the temple was finished. Unfortunately, he had a rather unfortunate addiction to gambling – well, not unfortunate for a long time, it’s how he could build so lavishly. But in the end, the Lady of Luck seemed to turn her back on her Kleros, and in a single season he was bankrupt. The embarrassing irony was not lost on his superiors. He was replaced and his mansion claimed by his creditors, from whom the Crown eventually acquired it some years later.

“Quite an opulent place, I’m lead to understand, although it has faded somewhat over the years. How Lady Ethalyn got her claws on it – er, came into possession of it – I’m not quite sure, but you’ll be glad to know she poured rather a lot of money into its restoration in the last two years. I hope you will enjoy the fruits of her efforts, Ser.” The man gave Vulk a conspiratorial wink.

“In any case, I now had two adjacent properties in hand, and it was but the work of a few hours to acquire several other appropriate mansions nearby – Twin Gables, Ser Devrik, and Ironstone, Ser Erol, were both already owned by the Crown, and making the current lease holders see the advantages of moving was little trouble. Safewell, Ser Korwin, had been abandoned for over forty years, since the execution of Torgoth Kemptor, the infamous canary trainer and serial murderer. His heirs were more than happy to let the Crown take it for the back taxes… although I fear it may require some work to make it quite livable again.

“Khundari House has long been empty,” the man went on, turning to Toran,” as the title has been in some dispute for several decades… since the death of the Khundari master builder Serath Strikestone, in fact. It was he who oversaw the construction of the new city walls and the dismantling of the old ones 130 years ago. In fact, he built his own home from the stones of the old walls, which is perhaps why it gives such an impression of age.

“On his death some 20 years ago, his widow and son decided to return to Dürkon, where she has only recently died herself. The son has never evinced an interest in the property, and the Crown has long contended that it is abandoned, having never been sold or the title otherwise transferred. This current solution should settle the matter nicely, and I’ve heard many neighbors say it will be good to have a Khundari in residence once again on Khundari Square.”

“Of course the most interesting of all these buildings I’ve saved for last. The Green Tower is much older than any of the buildings surrounding it, and not just by virtue of having survived the Great Fire. No, it was old when the first city walls went up, and it sat outside the city for many centuries before she grew around it. Who built the tower, and exactly when, is lost to the mists of time… but in the last 400 years it has been the seat of the Margraves of Green Tower, a fief created specifically for the arcane lord who possessed it.

“Almost every Margrave has been a mage of one sort or another, the first one being a master of growing things – it was he who gave the tower its current name, actually. As you will see, the exterior walls of the edifice are covered in a lush vertical garden, which maintains itself in some miraculous fashion. Even the fire did little more than wilt the vegetation. Quite the tourist draw, I must say…

“The last Margrave of Green Tower was Hürlind Jekoru, a scholar of some repute and rather… eccentric. Sadly, he died without issue – a not uncommon occurrence with this Margravship, come to think on it – and the title reverted to the Crown these past 80 years. But now there is a Margrave again, and I’m sure the people of the district will be pleased to have a noble in residence once more, to whom they can come for the low justice, and to pay their rents directly.

“And best of all, all of these properties as close by one another, all within the New District area of the city, just north of Khundari Square, between the Artisans District and Wizardsgate!”

With that he handed each of them a set of keys, and wished them well with their new homes, which would be ready for possession first thing in the morning…