"He is a good man of sterling reputation," Je'howith insisted, "and he is not a young man, not much younger than myself. Understand that I am asking you for our mutual benefit. Even without your backing, or that of Brother Francis, I could throw the College into turmoil by announcing my intent to try for the office. Perhaps I would not command the votes to win, but surely I could persuade many away from you-or whomever it is that you choose to back-enough so that either Abbot Olin or the Abbot Agronguerre would gain the position in any case."
"Then why do you speak to me of it? " Braumin asked.
"Because I fear that Olin will take the post, and will try to strengthen the ties between the Abellican Church and the pagan yatol priests of Behren," Je'howith replied.
And Olin would not look so kindly on Je'howith and his close ties to the King of Honce-the-Bear, Braumin thought.
"So allow the memory of Father Abbot Markwart its peace," Je'howith said, "as it should have, given the man's decades of honorable service to the Church."
Braumin's lack of retort was all the confirmation Je'howith seemed to need. "And support me as I support Agronguerre," the old abbot went on.
"And when he dies, if you have proven yourself in the position of abbot of St. Precious-an appointment I will support-and if I am still alive, then I give you my word now that I will back your own ascent to that highest level, Brother Braumin."
"I will learn what I can of Abbot Agronguerre," Brother Braumin agreed, "and if he is all you say, then I agree to your choice." He nodded and bowed slightly, then turned to go and join his friends.
"One thing you should know as well, Brother Braumin," Je'howith remarked, turning the younger monk back around. "At last year's College of Abbots, Abbot Agronguerre did not agree with Father Abbot Markwart's damning decree against Master Jojonah. He even expressed his concerns to me that we might be too quick to condemn Brother Avelyn, given that we did not know the extent of the man's actions in league with, or against, the demon dactyl."
Braumin nodded again and began to consider that the meeting with Je'howith had gone much better than he could have ever hoped possible.
Pony saw the final exchange between Braumin and Je'howith, the latter surely no friend of hers! She had heard nothing of their discourse, though, and so she watched Brother Braumin closely as he turned and started away, noting the apparently satisfied spring in his stride, a gait that only increased when he spotted Pony and headed straight for her.
"Jousting with the enemy? " she asked.
"Trying to smooth the trail," Braumin replied. "For surely it is filled with deep ruts since Jilseponie will not heed our call."
Pony laughed at the man's unrelenting pressure. They simply could not hold any conversation without Brother Braumin pushing at her to ally formally and openly with the Church, with the new Abellican Church that he and his companions had determined to bring into being. " If you believe that the road would become smoother and easier if I accepted your invitation to bid to become mother abbess, then you are a fool, Brother Braumin," she replied.
"You have the deathbed blessing of a father abbot."
"A fallen father abbot," Pony reminded, "a man I brought to that deathbed."
"One who found a moment of clarity and repentance in his last moments of life," Braumin came back. "And that moment will be honored within a Church that espouses penitence."
Pony chuckled again at the brother's unrelenting idealism. Could he not see the fallacy of his own prediction, that the College of Abbots would become so enmeshed in attempts at personal gain that Markwart's last statement, and Francis' interpretation of it, would be viewed with skepticism or even dismissed outright? But they had already been through this argument a dozen times at least, and Pony had no heart for it again. Nor the time, for a moment later, Duke Bretherford entered the room and announced the arrival of King Danube Brock Ursal.
Danube swept into the room, Constance and Kalas flanking him and a line of Allheart knights in shining armor behind them.
"My time is limited, for the tides will soon be favorable," he said, motioning at the large oval table set for the gathering. As one, the monks and the nobles-and Pony, who still wasn't sure exactly how she fit in or where she was supposed to sit-headed for their seats, then waited patiently and deferentially as King Danube took his own.
"Grace us with the blessing," the King bade Abbot Je'howith, a slight against Braumin, Talumus, and particularly Francis that was not lost on Pony.
Je'howith gladly complied, calling for God's blessings in these troubled times, for His guidance that His Church might put itself into proper order to erase the errors of the past year.
Pony listened carefully and marveled at how well the old man avoided specific judgments in his prayer, at how he gave no indication of who it was he thought had made those vague mistakes. Yes, Je'howith was a crafty one, she reminded herself. She-and, to her thinking, Braumin and the others would do well to follow her lead-didn't trust him in the least.
"What are your plans? " King Danube asked immediately after the prayer was ended. He looked to Braumin as he spoke, but his bluntness had obviously caught the monk by surprise, and Braumin quickly turned to Francis for support.
"We will convene a College of Abbots as soon as it can be arranged, obviously," Abbot Je'howith interjected, "perhaps in St. Precious rather than St.-Mere-Abelle. Yes, that might prove wise in these troubled times."
The other monks around the table didn't seem to agree at all. "The College is always held at St.-Mere-Abelle," Brother Viscenti pointed out rather sharply.
"But, perhaps-" Je'howith started.
"We have not discussed the location," Brother Braumin put in, "and now is not the time to announce any such change as you propose."
Brother Viscenti started to respond again, as did Brother Francis, while Brother Talumus and some of his St. Precious entourage began talking excitedly about the possibilities of such an honor. But then suddenly King Danube slammed his fist on the table and leaped up from his seat.
"I have warned you!" he began. "All of you, to put your house in order. Can you not see the fear on the faces of the people you pretend to serve? Can you not understand that your foolish bickering will rip this kingdom apart, spiritually at least? Well, I shall have none of it!"
"Brother Braumin and I have come to agreement concerning the next father abbot," announced Je'howith, obviously uncomfortable at the startling outburst and likely regretting his suggestion of a change of location for the College.
King Danube settled back into his seat, staring at Braumin for confirmation, as were many surprised Abellican monks.
"We have come to… an understanding," Braumin began. "My choice, and Father Abbot Markwart's-repentant Father Abbot Markwart'schoice to lead our Church sits beside me," he explained, patting Pony's shoulder. "But, alas, Jilseponie will not heed our call at this time, and so Abbot Je'howith and I have found some common ground."
"And will the rest of us be enlightened concerning that ground?" a scowling Master Francis put in.
"Of course," Brother Braumin replied. "We made no decisions-such are not ours to make-but merely discussed the matter and tried to find some agreement, a proposal shaped between us that I might bring to my colleagues and Abbot Je'howith to his."
Francis nodded, indicating that Braumin should go on.
"We must speak privately about this," Braumin answered and turned to the King. "But the College of Abbots will succeed in its task of appointment, and of the correct appointment for the times. I assure you, your Majesty."
"As we have come to agree on the new abbot of St. Precious," Je'howith added, surprising everyone. "Master Francis, with great generosity and foresight, has abdicated the post, and plans to nominate…" He paused and motioned to Francis.