“I see your thinking now, Your Grace,” he said. “Of course, it’s unlikely Stohnar will be able to act on the opportunity before the Sword strikes.”
“I know that’s the plan,” Clyntahn said. “And hopefully, Rakurai’s going to have knocked the bastard Charisians back on their heels, at least for a little bit, too. But they surprised us with this one, Wyllym. Let’s not pretend they didn’t. And everything we’re hearing suggests the ‘Reformists’ are gaining ground steadily in Siddarmark. At least some of those bastards are likely to come out openly in support of Stohnar when the coin finally drops. For that matter, they’re gaining ground in other places, too.”
He glowered at Rayno across the table, and the archbishop nodded. Despite what the Church was reporting, the truth-which had a nasty tendency of leaking out through the producers of those accursed anti-Church broadsheets the Inquisition still couldn’t run to ground-was that the Church of Charis wasn’t being “heroically and defiantly resisted” in the “conquered territories.”
That was to be expected in Old Charis itself, and probably to some extent in Emerald, as well, if only due to the princedom’s proximity to the original source of the contagion. Yet the truth was that Chisholm, which definitely wasn’t right next door to Old Charis, had reacted with appalling calmness to its renegade queen’s decision to actually marry the heretic King of Charis. Still worse, in some ways, Zebediah had done the same. In fact, from all reports, Zebediah was actively embracing the Charisian Empire, and if that meant accepting the Church of Charis as well, its subjects seemed perfectly willing to do that, too. No doubt that was largely an inevitable reaction to how cordially hated Tohmys Symmyns had been, but that wasn’t keeping it from happening. And, worst of all…
“You’re thinking about Corisande, Your Grace?”
“I’m thinking about everywhere the goddamned Charisians go,” Clyntahn said sourly, “but, yes, Corisande was the other major ulcer I had in mind. I know our reports from Manchyr are always out of date by the time they get here, and I know you’ve been trying to put the best face on the ones we do get,” he shot Rayno a moderately frigid look, “but the goddamned ‘Reformists’ are obviously gaining ground in Corisande. And the dog-and-lizard show that bitch Sharleyan put on when she was down there’s only pushing that process along. The damned Corisandians are going over to Charis, just like the Chisholmians and the Zebediahans, and you know it, Wyllym.”
Unfortunately, Rayno did know it. And he had been trying to “put the best face on” his reports from Corisande, for that matter. It would have been nice if there’d been some actual good news in any of them, though.
It seemed evident to him (although even now he didn’t propose to point it out to Clyntahn) that there’d always been a much greater Reformist sentiment in Corisande than anyone in Zion had realized. That sentiment hadn’t extended-initially, at least-to actually embracing schism and heresy, yet it had been there. And it had grown only stronger after Clyntahn broke the Reformist Circle in Zion itself. Rayno understood why the Grand Inquisitor had done it, yet there was no point pretending Corisande-insulated from the object lesson by all of the salt water between it and the mainland-hadn’t reacted with revulsion and anger. That had helped push more Corisandians into the arms of the Church of Charis, and the careful way in which Cayleb and Sharleyan had handled their occupation, coupled with Sharleyan’s display of mercy in pardoning so many who’d been convicted of treason, had drastically undermined the purely secular anger evoked by Hektor’s murder. Especially when she’d gone right on displaying mercy after she’d so nearly been killed on her throne! For that matter, the original outrage engendered by Hektor’s assassination had begun to fade even before Northern Conspiracy’s leaders had been arrested, far less convicted.
So, yes, the “damned Corisandians” were going over to Charis.
“The other thing we have to face here, Wyllym,” Clyntahn continued flatly, “is that we’re getting our ass kicked every time we go up against the Charisians at sea. Don’t think anybody inclined to consider heresy’s missing that point, either. Hopefully, the Rakurai are going to have demonstrated by now that we’re not powerless when it comes to striking back, but the military momentum’s clearly on the heretics’ side for right now, and that’s giving them the impetus where morale’s concerned, as well. We need to grab that momentum back, regain the upper hand psychologically, the way we had it after we snuffed out the Wylsynns’ conspiracy. Finally getting around to Punishing those bastards Thirsk captured was a start. Rakurai’s going to be another step on the same journey, too, and the Sword’s going to be a huge stride in the right direction. But I want to hit them in as many places as possible. I think it’s time to poke up the fire in Corisande.”
“Prince Daivyn?” Rayno asked, tilting his head while he considered options and possibilities.
“Exactly. And I want it to coincide with the Sword. I want those bastards in Tellesberg to take as many good, heavy kicks in the balls, from as many directions as we can manage, in the shortest time period possible.”
“If you actually want to coordinate the two operations, Your Grace, we’re going to have to tinker with the timing.”
“What do you mean, ‘tinker’?”
“Forgive me, Your Grace. That was the wrong word. I should have said we’re going to have to consider the timing carefully. If we hold to our current planning and send in a team of ‘Charisian’ assassins, it’s going to take at least a few five-days-possibly an entire month-to get them into position in Delferahk, so the question becomes how closely we want the assassination to coincide with the Sword. Do we want to delay events in Siddarmark in order to coordinate them with the assassination, or do we want to move as quickly as possible in Siddarmark and settle for approximate coordination between the Sword and the assassination?”
“I want them to happen as close to simultaneously as possible,” Clyntahn said after a moment’s thought. “I want Cayleb and Sharleyan to know we timed them to happen that way.” He smiled unpleasantly. “After all, they’re going to know they didn’t kill Daivyn, no matter what happens. So let’s just underscore the statement for them and see how they like that!”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Rayno bowed across the table again. “I’ll get started on that immediately.”
Queen Frayla Avenue, City of Tellesberg, Kingdom of Old Charis
“I have a priority alert, Lieutenant Commander Alban.”
Merlin Athrawes’ head snapped up as Owl’s voice spoke calmly over his built-in com. He stood in the window of his palace bedchamber, looking out into the steadily gathering twilight, and his expression was grim. Tellesberg-even Tellesberg, the city which never slept, which was never quiet-seemed hushed and somber. Lanterns and lamps were already beginning to illuminate the oncoming night, and his enhanced vision could see the longshoremen and the ships still loading and unloading cargo along the waterfront. But the city’s tempo had clearly dropped, and people went about their business more quietly than usual, with a degree of fearfulness which grieved his heart.