Gods, what a woman.
And her father had not changed his strategy to the best of his knowledge. Nor would Rudolfo change his. He would align himself with this new Pope-if he were a man of reason and moderate strength-and he would win that new Pope to his way of seeing. When the war was finished, he would rebuild the library in a place where he could watch over it, a place far from the meddling of men like Sethbert.
Rudolfo heard a whistle behind him. It was too high and it did not warble at the end.
Setting his jaw, he crouched near a thick evergreen and drew his long, curved knife. He did not return the whistle, and after a moment he heard soft footfalls.
“Lord Rudolfo?” It was Jin Li Tam’s voice.
He stood, putting his knife away. “I’m here, Lady Tam.”
She slipped through the foliage with the ease of a Gypsy Scout. “I don’t quite have the whistle down,”
she said.
Rudolfo smiled. “It’s nearly there. You learn quickly.”
She curtsied. “Thank you, Lord. May I join you for your walk?”
He’d just started to think it was time to turn back, time to rouse the last watch from their few precious hours of sleep and strike camp for the long day’s ride ahead. “Please,” he said.
She came alongside him, and they were both careful not to touch. “You are well?” “I am. And you?”
“Yes,” she said. “Better now that we’re on our way.”
They walked together, side by side, and her measured footsteps impressed him. She moved like a scout, confident and light with her step. The ferns and branches around her only trembled lightly as she went past; they did not leak the water that had collected there.
Rudolfo paused midstep, looking at her, then resumed walking. “Yes?”
“Why do you wish to do this? You intended to do this before the archbishop declared, even before I
proposed you as a suitor to my father. You meant to do this and finance it yourself.” He chuckled. “Sethbert would have paid for it. He still will if I have my way.”
“But why would you do this? You do not seem to be the sort who would keep what light remains to yourself. The strategy beneath it suggests that you mean to keep the library in a place where it can be protected.”
Like she protects Isaak, he thought. That was the quality of parenthood he heard in her voice.
He shrugged. “I am not a young man. I stand just past the middle of my road. I am only now taking a wife. If I cannot give my Ninefold Forest Houses an heir, then at least I can give them knowledge. Something to love and defend fiercely in this world.”
Her next words surprised him. “Doesn’t it also atone for the first Rudolfo’s betrayal?” He laughed. “I suppose perhaps it does.”
“Regardless,” she said, “I think it is a wise and wonderful thing that you do.” They settled back into silence before she surprised him again. “Do you want an heir, Rudolfo?”
Now he stopped entirely, a smile widening on his mouth. “You mean now? Here?” “You know what I mean.”
He shrugged. He’d been with many women. For a time, he’d used the powders to dull his soldiers’ swords. And he’d certainly taken them through enough gates. But when he had finally tried to make a child with a consort sent from the Queen of Pylos as a matter of kin-clave courtesy, he’d been unable. And they’d tried for nine pleasurable months. After that, fearing that he couldn’t sire, he left off with the potions and redoubled his efforts with the women on his rotation. No discreet notes arrived by bird from his stewards, no reports of a girl (or three) heavy with child and claiming his patrimony.
He’d heard that the Androfrancines also had magicks for this. But even if it were true, it felt contrary to him for no reason he could discern.
He looked at Jin. “I’ve certainly considered it at length,” he said. “Alas, I’m afraid my soldiers have no swords.”
“Forty-seven, Sethbert.”
Sethbert noted that the general failed to use his title. “Forty-seven deserters in two weeks? We’re not even fully engaged.”
Sethbert watched a look of disgust march across the general’s face. “It has nothing to do with cowardice. It has everything to do with your indiscretions. Men will not willingly follow a monster.”
“Surely you can break their will?”
Lysias shook his head. “You don’t have enough loyal officers to do that. You will leak resources slowly. It is time to relieve these and bring forward fresh faces. You do not want to mix the bad in with the good. The spoiled pear always takes the barrel.”
“Fine,” Sethbert said. “Make it so.” He looked to his aide. “And you have a message for me?”
The young man stepped forward and passed the unrolled paper to Sethbert. “It isn’t good news, Lord.”
Of course it wasn’t. The day had brought no good news. There’d really been no good news since the day the Marsh King showed up across the valley, blasting his nonsensical ramblings across the night, every night, for how long now?
Shortly after that mud-bugger showed up, he’d received word from Oriv-Pope Resolute, he reminded himself-that their funds had been frozen by House Li Tam. He’d flown into a rage to hear it. He’d known it was a risk-that there might be someone higher placed than his cousin out there somewhere. And after the first week, because no one had come forward disputing Resolute’s succession, he’d assumed no one would.
Of course, there had also been mixed news. As angered as he was about Rudolfo’s escape, he was pleased to learn that they had resorted to violence. It meant they no longer needed to keep up the pretense of civility in their dealings with him.
“How did it arrive? And from whom?” he asked, squinting at the message. “It came under Androfrancine thread from House Li Tam, Lord.”
He read the note, feeling his anger rebuilding. He saw everything right in front of him. House Li Tam again. His consort now Rudolfo’s betrothed-an alliance formed. Perhaps, he thought, Rudolfo was involved from the start. In bed with the Androfrancines along with Vlad Li Tam and, though he did not know how, the Marsh King as well.
What would they gain by the Desolation of the Named Lands at the hands of those ?hanghtrobed tyrants? That question bothered him, but not overly so.
What bothered him more was that now they played a Pope of their own onto the board. Convenient that he was in hiding, invoking some obscure Androfrancine codex. And even Sethbert knew enough of their law to realize it was a stretch of that rule’s intent.
He read the proclamation, his lips moving as he followed the words. When he finished, he crumpled the note and cast it aside. While the aide scrambled for it, Sethbert kicked over a chair.