"Or, with respect, Father, it might have been a veritable miracle, as when He stayed the sun above Joshua."
Dmwoski nodded. "All things are possible to Him, brother. If that was the cause of the Change, then of course no probe of its source can do further harm. If, however, mortal hands and minds were the agency. .. who knows what might result? Even to the destruction of the world."
"Pray God and the saints that may not happen!" Ignatius said, eyes wide in shock.
"Pray indeed; but God imposes on us a duty to act in this world. I would be much more comfortable if one of our own were involved in any expedition to Nantucket. The more so as the followers of the false Prophet seem to have an interest in this-and perhaps know things which we do not."
Ignatius looked down in thought. "You mean to give me this task, Father? I will of course obey, but would not an older and wiser man. .."
He is frightened, Dmwoski thought. But not for himself; he fears failure only. Good! God deliver us from recklessness and arrogance masquerading as courage!
"Such a journey will require a young man in his full strength," Dmwoski said. "Also you have already successfully completed several difficult missions, both mili tary and diplomatic; your teachers give you excellent reports."
"Thank you, Father. But how exactly am I to gain access to any mission the Mackenzies launch? I am reasonably well liked there, for a Christian cleric and an outsider, but I am a Christian cleric and an outsider and the Clan are… clannish. I presume that is your intention, rather than the Order sending an expedition of its own?"
Dmwoski nodded. "Needs are infinite, resources al ways limited, my son," he said. "With the threat of the CUT, the Order will need all its strength. One man-one man of unusual abilities-we can spare. More we cannot."
His blue eyes grew shrewd. "And if the Mackenzies send their tanist-"
"They will, Father. Given the legends which surround his birth and early life, it would appear inescapable to them. And he is a… a most formidable man. As a warrior I have not met his match, save possibly the Grand Constable d'Ath; and he has equal intelligence. And much more charm as well."
Dmwoski nodded. "Just so."
He supposed there must be some people who liked her, but even putting her private life to one side, person ally he'd met snakes who had more charm than Tiphaine d'Ath. He knew the cardinal archbishop had contemplated excommunication, and had refrained only when a tacit agreement was reached that she would abstain from the sacraments most of the time.
Aloud he continued: "But consider also the relation ships which Rudi Mackenzie… Artos Mackenzie… has acquired in that storied and adventurous young life of his."
"Ah," Ignatius said, and bowed his head in respect. "The princess. She and Rudi Mackenzie-"
"Have been raised together and took the oath of anamchara. Which requires the sharing of secrets. If Rudi is to investigate these matters for his mother, he will tell her. She will not allow him not to."
"What do you think she will do, Father?" Ignatius said. "I have little knowledge of her beyond matters of public record and a few meetings."
"She will, I think, find some way to accompany him."
"With respect… I cannot see her mother allowing that!"
"Neither can I," Dmwoski said dryly.
The unspoken and teach your grandmother to suck eggs made the young man flush, but the Abbot smiled to lessen the sting and went on: "Nevertheless, she will try. She may or may not succeed. We cannot in good conscience abet her possible defiance of the regent; it would be politically suicidal as well. But we can… "
"… help her if she succeeds in it," Ignatius said.
"Just so. She is a most loyal daughter of Holy Mother Church, in an independent and occasionally self-willed manner," Dmwoski said.
"Well, she is a princess, born to rule, not an apprentice dairymaid," Ignatius said.
Dmwoski nodded. Wryly, to himself: And to you, my son, a "princess born to rule" is the most natural thing in the world, whereas I must every now and then remind myself that such things do again walk the world… the Changed world… even if gryphons and unicorns do not.
Aloud he went on: "Considering her parentage, we have been blessed indeed that she earnestly seeks the good. Hence she is likely to accept our help, if events take the turn that I expect."
"But her contacts are primarily with her confessor, and the hierarchy in the Association dioceses, are they not, Father? I assume we are keeping this hypothesis secret from them?"
"Yes. It is necessary. Working through the regular hierarchy in the Association territories is an unaccept able security risk in this matter. They are too intimately involved with the Protectorate's secular governance. Frankly, I would be afraid of the Lady Regent's learning too much if we consulted in that direction. Nor do they have any man of your particular abilities."
"And the princess does not share the prejudice so many Association nobles have against our Order," Ignatius said, nodding thoughtfully.
"Precisely, brother. If anything, she favors us-from appreciation of our work, and also from reasons of policy as a counterbalance to the Dominicans. Many of whom regret the ending of the schism and the disbanding of Antipope Leo's inquisition."
Ignatius had lost his doubts; his mind was working quickly behind an impassive face. Dmwoski nodded.
"We must consult others of our brothers, speak at length, and pray for guidance. But I think, my son, that your first step on this journey will be towards Portland."
Flying M Baronial Hunting Preserve,
Coast Range Foothills
Portland Protective Association,
Oregon
January 30, CY22/2021 A.D.
This is a bit different from our last hunting party, back last Samhain, Rudi thought.
He inhaled deeply. All he could smell was the damp snow, and the deep sweet pungency of conifer forest. The sun was a little west of noon and well south, which made him squint as he watched the edge of the woods ahead, where the snowy natural meadow narrowed down to a point between two steep hills.
The twins weren't with them; they didn't like visiting Association territory, for which he couldn't blame them, and they'd gone off to stay with Hiril Astrid at Stardell Hall. Mathilda was the only woman in the half dozen actual hunters, though there were a few young ladies-in waiting and a middle aged chaperone back at the lodge. Everyone else was a young male Associate, a nobleman; then there were the beaters ahead of them on the other side of this stretch of forest.
Rudi held up his right hand. The others came to a halt, spread out across the field where sun-cured grass stuck through the snow in beige-upon-white. Especially after Mathilda hissed at them about hunt discipline.
The Flying M was in a valley that wound up from the Willamette near Yamhill into the Coast Range ahead and to the west. They'd come farther where the tall for est of Douglas fir and hemlocks closed in with a tangle of steep forested ridges, rippling around them in tall dark green ranks. The branches were heavy with the white of the recent snowfall and the Alaskan air mass was still over the valley, keeping the air well below freezing.
The wind was cold in his face, and the sound of the hounds was a musical belling at least a half a mile farther on-though sound was tricky among woods and hills, particularly after snow. A hundred yards behind them the horses were starting to snort and plunge in the hands of the grooms. Epona bugled her challenge to the scent of predator drifting in from the west.
"He's coming," he said, softly but clearly.