"What sort of reports?" Trynair managed to keep his tone short of an impatient demand, but it wasn't easy.
"Apparently the Charisians have undertaken some major changes in their navy," Magwair replied. "Details are sketchy, but they all agree that in addition to these new rigging plans of theirs, and this new 'cotton gin,' and all of the other . . . innovations they've introduced, they've obviously done something we don't know about where their navy is concerned. It's the only explanation for how secretive they're being, or, for that matter, for why they should suddenly be building galleons instead of galleys."
There were several moments of intense silence, and then Clyntahn belched. The sound was startling, and Trynair twitched in surprise.
"So," the Grand Inquisitor said, without bothering to apologize, "what do we have here? We have a bishop who's preaching sedition. We have this huge spate of changes and new techniques. We have a kingdom in the process of some sort of secret military buildup. We have a king whose family has a tradition of defiance towards Mother Church, and whose own policies have scarcely been accommodating to her just demands. We have a bishop who's preaching heresy and sedition from his own cathedral. We have an archbishop who's concealing information from us-probably just to cover his own arse, although I wouldn't be prepared to bet my soul on that. And we have a so-called intendant who hasn't reported any of this to us. What does that sound like to the rest of you?"
"Not good," Magwair grunted. Duchairn and Trynair said nothing, but Clyntahn's venomous summation had shaken them, as well.
"I'm still not convinced the situation is quite that bad," Duchairn said after several seconds. "Still, I'm certainly willing to concede that I'm not as confident of that as I was a few minutes ago. Assuming all of your assumptions are correct, Zhaspyr, what do we do about it?"
"If Staynair's truly preaching sedition, and if neither Ahdymsyn nor Dynnys has reported it to us, I see no option but to summon him-and them-to appear before a proper tribunal," Trynair said.
"And that young whippersnapper Wylsynn, as well," Magwair growled, but Clyntahn shook his head.
"I'm not sure that's the wisest course," he said, and all three of his colleagues looked at him in disbelief.
"Oh, I'm not saying they shouldn't all face the Inquisition, eventually. Or that they shouldn't suffer the full penalty for their actions. But if we summon Staynair to the Temple and he refuses the summons, what happens?"
"He can't refuse the summons," Duchairn protested. "The entire matter comes under the authority of the Church's justice."
"And if Haarahld, who's already defied the Church's obvious desires by insisting this man be made Bishop of Tellesberg in the first place, intervenes and prevents the Church courts in Charis from remanding Staynair to the Temple?"
"Surely he's not prepared to go that far," Trynair argued, yet he heard a certain lack of certitude in his own voice.
"He's making preparations for something," Clyntahn pointed out. "And don't forget how many of the clergy in Charis are native Charisians. I've argued for years that we should have assigned more non-Charisians to that pesthole, but would anyone listen? No. And now what do we have? Barely the tenth part-if that much-of the clergy is from outside Haarahld's kingdom. If he should choose to defy Mother Church, at least a sizable minority of those Charisians are likely to support him. And then what do we have?"
A fresh, even more profound, silence descended upon the dining room.
It was amazing, Trynair thought, how swiftly his own mood had gone from one of pleasant content to something very, very different. But if Clyntahn was correct, if his worst-case assumptions proved accurate, they would be looking at a nightmare the Church had never confronted before: the armed resistance of an entire kingdom to God's will. And if that resistance prospered, or even if it simply took some time to quell-which was scarcely unlikely, given Charis' sheer physical distance from the Temple and the Temple Lands-its example might well spread.
The Chancellor shuddered at the thought of what might happen if Siddarmark, for example, were to fall prey to the same madness. And if Charis were allowed to continue its military expansion-an expansion which, it now seemed, might be violating the Proscriptions after all-it might well seize Emerald, Corisande, and even Chisholm by force of arms before the Church could mobilize against it in sufficient strength. And if that happened . . .
"So how do we avoid all of that, Zhaspyr?" he asked finally, and Clyntahn shrugged.
"I think the answer to that is fairly simple, really."
His colleagues' surprise was obvious, and he chuckled, the sound harsh, almost hungry.
"Of course it is. Zahmsyn, you yourself started putting the pieces into place to support Hektor if it proved necessary. Well, I submit that it has proven necessary. I think our simplest, safest, and best course is to go ahead and support Hektor and Nahrmahn, but as the Knights of the Temple Lands, not the Council of Vicars. Bahrmyn's in Manchyr on his own pastoral visit right this minute, so tell him to . . . speak frankly with Hektor. Then bring in Dohlar and Tarot-and Chisholm, for that matter-but Mother Church stays out of it. The Temple Lands can support our friends-just forgiving Rahnyld the interest on all the loan payments he still owes the Treasury would be more than enough to buy his support-but the Church and the Inquisition will have nothing to do with it. Until, of course, Haarahld's been defeated."
"And then?" Trynair asked, trying to ignore the queasiness stirring in the pit of his stomach.
"I think we can count on Hektor and Nahrmahn to wreak sufficient havoc on Charis. If necessary, we can . . . encourage them just a bit. But by the time Tellesberg and most of their other major towns and cities have been burned, and their precious merchant fleet's been destroyed, what's left of Charis will be destitute, desperate for aid. At which point, Mother Church's loving arms will reach out to her distressed children. The Treasury will pour gold into rebuilding their shattered homes, and in the process, the Office of Inquisition will be perfectly placed to purge the unreliable elements of the priesthood."
He smiled with cold, vicious satisfaction.
"In short, I believe we're in a position to solve the Charisian problem for generations to come, my friends."
SEPTEMBER, YEAR OF GOD 891
I
Royal Palace,
Manchyr, Corisande
Prince Hektor of Corisande watched with carefully hidden anxiety as Borys Bahrmyn, the Archbishop of Corisande, strode past the throne room guards and paced gravely down the runner of carpet towards his throne. The guards watched him pass with carefully expressionless faces, although the stiff set of their spines showed how little they cared for their instructions, then closed the throne room doors behind him . . . from the other side.
The ragged ends of a late-winter thunderstorm had cleared earlier in the day, and sunlight through the stained glass windows threw flowing patterns across the floor. The gems on the archbishop's formal priest's cap sparkled whenever he stepped through one of those pools of light, and his expression was solemn.
Bahrmyn reached the foot of the dais and bowed his head gravely. Then he straightened, and Hektor inclined his own head in a gesture of respect.
"I must admit, Your Eminence," he said, "that I was a bit startled, and more than a little apprehensive, when I received your message."
"I apologize for that, Your Highness," Bahrmyn said. "Only the most pressing circumstances would have led me to request an audience on such short notice."
"I realize that. Which explains my apprehension," Hektor replied, showing his teeth in a slightly tight smile, although "request" was a pale choice of verb. The archbishop's message had been a none too thinly veiled peremptory demand for an immediate-and completely private-meeting.
Had he been anyone else, Hektor would have told him, none too politely, what he could do with his "request." Since he was who he was, however, the prince had had no choice but to comply. Which explained his guardsmen's unhappiness.
And his own.
"The world knows that you are your own first councillor, Your Highness." Bahrmyn produced a small smile of his own. "Were you not, I would undoubtedly have made whoever served you in that capacity . . . apprehensive instead of yourself."
"An excellent point, Your Eminence. Perhaps I should consider changing my arrangements."
Bahrmyn chuckled dutifully, and Hektor drew a deep breath.
"Nonetheless, Your Eminence, you did request the audience, and you're here now. So, how may the League of Corisande assist Mother Church?"
"Actually, Your Highness," Bahrmyn said slowly, "I'm not really here in Mother Church's name this morning." Hektor's eyes widened in surprise, and the archbishop shrugged slightly. "I am here on behalf of Chancellor Trynair, but not in his capacity as Vicar Zahmsyn."
Hektor's widened eyes narrowed in sudden speculation as he recognized Bahrmyn's distinction. As Chancellor, Trynair might speak officially for the Council of Vicars, or for the Knights of the Temple Lands; as Vicar Zahmsyn, he could speak only for the Church. Which put an abruptly different face on Bahrmyn's "request" for a completely private audience.
"I see," he said, after a moment. "In that case, how may be League serve the Chancellor?"
"In point of fact, Your Highness, I'm here to discuss how the Chancellor can be of assistance to you."
"Indeed?" Hektor kept his voice and expression alike under careful control, but it was hard.
"Your Highness," Bahrmyn said, "I've been instructed to speak very frankly, without the normal diplomatic circumlocutions. With your permission, that's precisely what I intend to do."
He raised his eyebrows, and Hektor nodded.
"Thank you, Your Highness." Bahrmyn bent his head once more, then cleared his throat.
"Your Highness, all the world knows that you and Prince Nahrmahn have, for some years now, found yourselves increasingly at odds with Haarahld of Charis. Mother Church, of course, must always be grieved when those she's anointed as secular rulers view one another with enmity. Nonetheless, Chancellor Trynair recognizes, as one charged with heavy secular responsibilities of his own in the Temple Lands, that even reasonable men may sometimes find themselves on opposite sides of irreconcilable differences. When that happens, it may result in open war. Other times, it may result in an ongoing, festering wound which poisons all about it."
The archbishop had Hektor's undivided attention. The prince made himself sit calmly in his throne, listening only attentively, but if Bahrmyn was headed where he appeared to be headed . . .
"Although both Corisande and Charis are far from the Temple Lands, the fact that between your lands-and, of course, Emerald-your ships carry so much of the world's cargoes means that any quarrel between you affects everyone who depends upon that shipping. The Knights of the Temple Lands are no different from any other rulers in that respect, and they've watched with increasing alarm as the hostility between you and Haarahld has deepened.
"Until recently, however, they've embraced a policy of neutrality in this particular dispute. That seemed the most reasonable course for them to pursue. But in recent months, the Knights of the Temple Lands have become aware of what they believe represents a dangerous shift in policy on Charis' part. Since the ecclesiastical courts decided against Haarahld's protégé, Breygart, in the matter of the Hanth succession, he appears to have resolved to settle the quarrel between you-and, no doubt, to 'avenge himself' for the part he seems to feel you played in the succession dispute-by force of arms."
Hektor managed not to blink. Despite his own concerns over the reports from Maysahn and Makferzahn, he rather doubted, as he'd told Earl Coris, that Haarahld had any intention of attacking Emerald or Corisande anytime soon. If nothing else, fear of the Church's possible reaction would have to hold him in check.
"Under most circumstances, I suppose," Bahrmyn continued, "any quarrel, even a war, fought this far from the Temple Lands might not appear to be of great consequence to the Knights of the Temple Lands. Given, however, Haarahld's obvious resentment of Mother Church's decision against him, and the fact that he's clearly contemplating a war of conquest against his neighbors, and the fact that should he succeed in defeating you and Nahrmahn, he would acquire near dictatorial control of so much of the world's seagoing trade, they simply can't view his clear intentions with equanimity. Indeed, they believe Haarahld's ambition poses a clear threat to that peaceable state of relations Mother Church is charged to maintain between all lands.
"Mother Church herself may not, of course, take sides in a purely secular conflict, unless one side should be proven to be in violation of God's law or plan. No one would suggest those circumstances apply at this time. But in their capacities as rulers, the Knights of the Temple Lands would be derelict in the discharge of their responsibilities to their own lands and subjects if they allowed such aggression to prosper.
"Therefore, Chancellor Trynair has charged me to inform you that the Knights of the Temple Lands have decided the time to restrain Charisian aggression has come. They are prepared to assist you and Prince Nahrmahn against Haarahld's overweening ambitions."
Bahrmyn paused, and it was Hektor's turn to clear his throat.
"Obviously, Your Eminence," he said, "I must welcome this evidence of the Chancellor's support. I do, I assure you. However, gratifying though it is, I fear the Knights of the Temple Lands are far away. And even were they not, they possess but little naval strength."
"Of themselves, that's certainly true, Your Highness," Bahrmyn agreed. "However, you aren't the only prince to whom the Chancellor has communicated his concerns over Charis. It's become obvious to him that Charis' ultimate ambition is to secure control of all the world's maritime trade for its own selfish profit. Accordingly, the interests of other lands, beyond Corisande and Emerald, are equally, if less immediately, threatened. In the Chancellor's view, it would be only just for those other lands to bear their fair share of the burden of defeating that ambition."
"I see."
Hektor could scarcely believe what he was hearing, and he cautioned himself to go slowly. This totally unanticipated offer went far beyond anything he'd ever dared allow himself to hope for, and the temptation to seize it instantly was overwhelming. But he had no idea what had prompted Trynair to send Bahrmyn to him, nor did he see where the Chancellor's own ultimate objectives might lie. On the other hand . . .
