“I will see Terin right away,” Korigan said, and left them.
Lynan nodded to a guard. “Bring out the prisoner.” The guard nodded and disappeared into the tent, reappearing a moment later with Arein. The mercenary was shaking, obviously thinking he was now going to be cut down.
“You will stay here until I send word you are to be freed,” Lynan told him. The mercenary slumped in relief. “But if you try to escape, the Chetts will kill you outright. And if you have lied to me about Rendle and his movements, I will come back here and eat your heart.”
Arein nodded numbly.
“Let him go,” Lynan ordered, and the guard released his grip. Arein stood there uncertainly. “If you go to the heart of the sooq, you will find an elder named Herita. Tell her who you are, and what I have said. She will give you work to do, as well as shelter. The guard will show you the way.”
The guard started off, with Arein following behind.
Kumul shook his head. “I think this is a foolish thing you do,” he said quietly.
“What particularly? Letting the prisoner go, or not attacking Rendle outright?”
“Both.”
“Neither is something my father would have done, I assume.”
“No.”
“Then I am already one up on my enemies,” Lynan said, and left Kumul to gape after him.
Chapter 17
Orkid found Olio in the palace forecourt watching the Royal Guard at training. The chancellor had seen the prince at training himself as he grew up, and although competent with a sword, he did not have the inclination to be a warrior. The question was, did Olio think so, too?
“If only your army was as well equipped and trained as these fine troops,” Orkid said.
Olio turned and smiled thinly at Orkid. “I did not hear you arrive, Chancellor. Forgive m-m-me for ignoring you.”
Orkid waved a hand. “I was not offended. Have you seen any of your own soldiers yet?”
“The Twenty Houses have almost finished m-m-mustering. I expect them to b-b-be ready within a few days. The first detachments from our other provinces arrive this afternoon; from Storia, I b—b-believe.”
“I would have thought Kendra itself could have supplied you with some sword and spear companies.”
“Three, in fact. They are already in b—b-barracks near the harbor, and will ship out as soon as Admiral Setchmar determines the worst of the winter seas are finished.”
“And yourself? When do you leave to be their general?”
“With the m-m-main b-b-body of troops. Twenty days at least. We m-m-march north from here to Sparro.”
“Then on to Daavis and glory,” Orkid added.
Olio looked at the ground, his uncertainty obvious. “Indeed,” he muttered.
Orkid stood by his side. “Will you be taking the consort with you?”
Olio looked up in surprise. “Sendarus? Why, no, of course not. He is just wed. I doubt he is so keen to leave Areava’s side. At any rate, m-m-my sister would not allow it.”
“Sendarus might wish to go,” Orkid mused. “He is, after all, an Amanite warrior. It will be hard for him to see others marching to war while he stays behind to ...” He let his voice fade.
“Coddle the queen, Chancellor?” Olio asked, his voice betraying his anger. “You at least should not think so p-p-poorly of your nephew.”
“I would never doubt Sendarus’ motives. He is a good and honorable man. He would wish to go for the queen’s good, not his own.”
If only it was Sendarus who was general instead of me, Olio thought miserably. Then he could go and I could stay behind where I will do the least harm.
“At any rate, since you are general, he cannot go,” Orkid added offhandedly.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it would make him subordinate to you.”
“Only in the army. B-B-Besides, I do not think p-p-pride is one of Sendarus’ vices. Indeed, I am not sure he has any vices at all.”
“I was not suggesting the problem stemmed from human vanity. It is only that he possesses, next to the queen, perhaps the greatest authority in the kingdom. There would be political and legal problems if that authority was submitted to your own.”
Olio thought the point a fine one, too fine for him to consider seriously, but it did give him the germ of another idea. The Guards had finished their training and were marching back to their barracks. He started walking back to the palace. He motioned for Orkid to accompany him.
“Do you think Sendarus is concerned that he is not going north with the army?”
“Undoubtedly. But he understands the reasons. He is not angry with you, if that is your worry.”
Olio shook his head. “No.” He frowned in thought for a moment, then said: “Do you think that if he had b-b-been consort at the council m-m-meeting that nominated m-m-my generalship, they would have given him the office?”
Orkid pretended to consider the question. “I am not sure. Perhaps.” He pretended to think on it some more. “It is likely,” he said in a considered voice. “Now that you mention it, I think that it is likely. It would have been another way for Sendarus to prove his loyalty to Grenda Lear, and would have ensured the safety of the two surviving loyal Rosethemes.” The chancellor shrugged. “But such was not the case.”
“No,” Olio said, more to himself than Orkid.
“Do you need me for anything in particular, your Highness?” Orkid asked.
Olio stopped and looked absently at the chancellor. “No. Thank you, but no.” He turned and continued, his head bowed in thought.
Orkid watched him go, a smile crossing his stern face. That was easier than I had any right to expect.
Primate Giros Northam was sitting behind his desk, his hands in his lap firmly clasping one another. He heard a knock at his door and swallowed quickly. “Come in,” he said, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice.
Father Powl entered, closed the door behind him. “A brother said you wanted to see me, your Grace.”
Northam nodded and indicated the priest should sit down. Powl took a chair and looked evenly at the primate, his features calm and interested.
“There is something we must discuss,” Northam started. “Something important to you and to the Church of the Righteous God.”
Northam saw Powl stiffen slightly. The priest had an inkling, then, of what he was leading to. “We have been friends for a very long time,” he went on. “Once, we were very close.”
Powl evaded Northam’s gaze this time and nodded a little curtly; his face reddened slightly.
“You do not agree?” Northam asked uneasily.
Powl shook his head. “Of course I agree, your Grace. But that closeness ...”
“Has gone, I know.”
“And through your actions, not mine,” Powl added hurriedly, his eyes almost pleading.
“I know that, too.” Northam sighed heavily, making his wattled neck shake slightly. “I wish it could have been done another way.”
“You wish what could have been done another way?”
“I am not sure how to explain this to you. It is a conversation we should probably have had months ago. You deserve the truth.”
Powl’s face became calm suddenly, as if intuition warned him of what was coming. “This is about your successor, isn’t it?”
Northam nodded. “You are not to know the true name of God. You cannot be its protector.”
Powl nodded, too, echoing the primate’s movement, as if to say: “I understand. Of course.” But his eyes became hard and bright and he found he could not look at the primate’s face, so he stared at his superior’s bald head instead. “This is not right,” he said tightly.