“Chancellor! It’s rare to have you visit this wing of the palace. You’ve missed the primate, I’m afraid. He’s gone into the city.”
“Good. It was you I came to see.”
Father Powl looked surprised. He waved his guest into a chair and sat down himself. “How can I help you?”
“I wanted to commend you on your contribution to the council meeting this morning.”
“I was glad to be of service to her Majesty.”
“You are still her confessor, I understand?”
“Less of late, I’m afraid. Father Rown now relieves me of most of that duty. I’m kept busy with the pressure of office as Primate Northam’s secretary.”
“Your advice at the council came as something of a surprise to most of us. After all, one hardly expects a cleric to demonstrate such a clear understanding of military strategy.”
Father Powl spread his hands. “I have been a student of knowledge since entering the priesthood. Our library here deals not just with religious subjects; there are histories and biographies, accounts of journeys and myths, records of previous military campaigns. The appropriate course of action seemed obvious to me, and it would have been remiss to remain silent. I am quite sure the marshal would have offered the same advice eventually.”
Orkid smiled easily. “Lief is an old soldier who came into command during the great years of peace following the Slaver War. Before that, he was a fine field commander. Grand strategy was never his strong point.”
“He may learn,” Father Powl countered.
“He will have to,” Orkid said dryly. “However, his burden will be eased by good advice. Advice from the queen. Advice from me. And, I suspect, advice from you.”
Father Powl looked shocked. “Chancellor, I would never bypass the council.”
“I was not suggesting you would. But there are times when the council may not be the appropriate forum.”
“Forgive me for being abrupt, Chancellor, but I’m at a loss to see where you are going with this.”
“I would appreciate being the beneficiary of your learning.”
“You are suggesting I go to you with any contribution instead of the council?”
“Indeed not. The queen relies on her councilors to speak directly. But if, for example, you had some insight that might bear on urgent events, there is no need for you to wait for the council to be convened. If you were to come to me, I could convey your advice directly to the queen herself.”
Father Powl rested back in his seat and made a steeple out of his fingers. “I would have to clear this with the primate.”
Orkid shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Let this stay a matter between you, myself, and Queen Areava. Better that way. Fewer channels to slow things down.”
“Let me state your position clearly, so there is no misunderstanding between us. I am to have direct access to you?”
“Yes.”
Father Powl smiled over the steeple. “I feel honored.”
“Do you agree?”
The priest nodded. “I agree. I think this is a relationship that will benefit both our offices.”
And those that occupy them, Orkid thought.
Areava tried to sit as regally as possible, but it was not possible in front of her brother. Olio stood before her, scrubbed and ashamed. He almost looked like an innocent young man again. She wanted to wet her hand and dampen down his unruly mop of hair.
“If my words seemed harsh—” she started, but Olio interrupted.
“M-m—my apologies, sister, for m-m-my b-b-behav-ior,” he blurted. “I cannot explain why you saw m-m-me in that condition—not yet—b—b-ut it will not happen again. I p-p-promise.”
Areava sighed and took his hands in her own. “I was worried. I have never seen you like that before. So much is happening now, and I need you strong by my side.”
“I will always b-b-be at your side, Areava. You know that.”
She nodded and smiled up at him. “You are to be a general.”
Olio blinked. “A general?”
“We are creating an army to counter Haxus. We believe they will march south into Hume as soon as winter eases. Their army is already massing on the border. There are rumors that their captain is Lynan.”
“My God.” Olio shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Not of Lynan.”
“And I, for one, would never have suspected Lynan capable of murdering Berayma!” Areava snapped. Olio opened his mouth to object, but Areava spoke over him. “We are ordering what forces we have in Hume to hold the province’s capital against a siege. Our army should be ready to march north in the spring; it will have contingents from all the southern provinces, and the heavy cavalry from the Twenty Houses. It needs a leader who will be higher in rank than all its captains, a leader all will obey. I must stay here in Kendra. That leaves you. It will be a close-run thing, Olio.”
“I understand. I will do it, of course, b-b-but I have no experience in soldiering.”
“So few have, brother. We have been at peace for a long time. But the same applies to the army of Haxus. In that at least, we are equal.”
“What m-m-must I do?”
“Be near me. Give me your advice. Liaise with the marshal and Orkid. They will advise you.”
“When will this b-b-be announced to the p-p-people?”
“I’m arranging for couriers to be sent to all our provinces; they will leave this afternoon. By then everyone in Kendra will know. Councilors like Shant Tenor and Xella Povis are hardly likely to keep quiet about it.”
“Are you going to declare war on Haxus?”
Areava shook her head. “Let them make the first move. Let all of Theare know who is the aggressor in this matter. It will not be Grenda Lear.”
Olio smiled. “You are m—m-more and m-m-more like our m-m-mother.”
“I hope I have her luck in war.”
“You will have no need of luck.”
Areava could already hear the sounds of battle in her mind. She could smell smoke and blood and fear. She could see heaps of dying and wounded, and battered pennants waving from broken spears. “Perhaps,” she said quietly. “But I will take any I can get.”
Chapter 7
The riders halted at the crest of a small hill. Some distance away was a glade of arrow trees circling a permanent lake, something rare in the Oceans of Grass. The glade was surrounded in turn by a deep green carpet of vegetation that spread out for leagues in every direction. Regularly spaced around the glade were collections of brightly colored tents, each collection marked by different pennants, and around the tents milled thousands of cattle.
“The High Sooq,” Korigan said, stretching in her saddle, looking even more lithe than usual. For a moment Lynan felt a twinge of desire; the urge surprised him.
“This is the richest grazing land on the continent,” she told him. “From here, you can see the entire wealth of the Northern Chetts.”
Lynan could not believe how many cattle there were. “Surely they will eat it out?” he said.
“Most of the grazing will be gone by midwinter. Then we give them the feed we’ve stored. By the end of winter that will be gone, and the clans will scatter to find spring grass. By the time we all meet here again next year, the land here will have regenerated.”
“Do we wait for all your people to arrive before moving down?” Kumul asked. The riders had left the White Wolf clan the day before.
“No,” Korigan answered. “We go down now. There will be a meeting tonight of the clan heads, and I want to see how hard my opponents will push me before they’re aware that Prince Lynan is among us.” She glanced quickly at Kumul. “Or you.”
Kumul did not feign modesty. It had been a long time since his reputation as captain of Elynd Chisal’s Red Shields had given him any pleasure or fed his pride. It was just a fact of his life and had served him better than worse in the years since the end of the Slaver War—it was his reputation that had secured him the position of constable under Queen Usharna. “So you are concerned for Lynan’s safety?” he asked sourly.