will come to see the same light of truth as I,' Agronguerre admitted, his tone lighthearted and not in the least intimidating. 'But that, I fear, is a personal decision, a choice that must come from within, and not through any pressure applied by brothers. Missionaries should spread their views with tolerance of difference, my friend.'
'And they should listen as often as they speak,' the ranger replied.
'Indeed,' agreed Agronguerre. 'And even more than that, I assure you that in this common cause, the brothers of St. Belfour are not missionaries. Certainly not! We believe that the joining of our forces against the common enemy will be to the betterment of both Vanguardsmen and Alpinadorans. This is not about who serves the correct God.'
Andacanavar looked past the abbot to Bruinhelde, and Agronguerre, too, turned to regard the pivotal leader.
'You will use no magic to tend my wounded,' Bruinhelde said determinedly, 'not even if one is near death, as was Temorstaad. And take care that none of your magical attacks falls over my brethren!' he warned.
'But you do not wish us to stop throwing lightning and fire at the goblins,' Abbot Agronguerre reasoned.
'Gilnegist clokclok gilnegist beyaggen inder fleequelt bene duGodder,' Bruinhelde replied, settling back in his chair and crossing his huge arms over his chest, his expression contented.
Agronguerre immediately turned back to the smiling Andacanavar.
' 'Demon battling demon brings joy to the godly man,' ' the ranger translated.
Brother Haney seemed as if he would jump up and shout out against the obvious insult, but the abbot of St. Belfour gave a great belly laugh and turned back to Bruinhelde. 'Exacdy!' he said with obvious irony. 'Exacdy!' He laughed some more, and Bruinhelde joined in and then the others, somewhat more tentatively, and it ended when Abbot Agronguerre, in all seriousness, extended his hand to the barbarian leader. Bruinhelde stared at the man and the gesture for a moment, then clasped Agronguerre's wrist firmly.
And so the alliance was sealed, with a mutual understanding of common benefit if not friendship. The rest of the meeting went beautifully, mostly rallying cheers designed to bring up the level of excitement for the battles that lay ahead and the shared confidence that, joined as one, the humans would drive out the minions of evil Bestesbulzibar.
Prince Midalis lingered behind when Brother Haney led the two Alpinadorans back to the gate of St. Belfour. 'I had feared that you would hold to your anger from the events on the field concerning Temorstaad,' he admitted to Agronguerre as soon as they were alone. 'To press your opinion on that matter would have proven disastrous.'
'It took me a long while to purge my heart of that anger,' Agronguerre admitted, 'but I recognize the greater good and understand that all of your work in bringing the barbarians to our cause has been nothing short of miraculous, my friend. I would not destroy those efforts for the sake of my own pride. And I know, too, that with or without the gemstone magic, Temorstaad will not be the only man to die in this campaign.'
'True enough,' Midalis solemnly agreed. 'But now, at least, we can look forward to the war with true hope.' He paused and gave Agronguerre a sly look. 'And when it is finished, perhaps you can begin the task of converting Bruinhelde and his brethren.'
That brought laughter from both, which increased when Agronguerre, in all seriousness, replied, 'Perhaps I would rather try to sway Bestesbulzibar and his minions.' If the specter of death itself had walked into his office, Abbot Braumin Herde's expression would have been no less incredulous and no less horrified.
De'Unnero came swaggering in, walking with confidence-with a smile, even-right up to the new abbot's desk. He bent low, placing his hands upon the lacquered wood, staring down at Braumin Herde. His eyes sparkled with the same intensity Braumin remembered from their days together at St.-Mere-Abelle, the fire that always had the younger monks on edge whenever Master De'Unnero was around, the same fire that had made the dangerous man a legend among the younger brothers.
'You seem surprised to see me,' De'Unnero said innocently.
Abbot Braumin couldn't even begin to respond, had no words to convex the astonishment and trepidation churning within him.
'You believed me dead?' De'Unnero asked, as if the thought wen absurd.
'The fight at Chasewind Manor…' Abbot Braumin began, but he jus ended up shaking his head. He was still sitting, wasn't even sure if his leg would support him if he tried to stand. And all the while, the monk wa well aware that Marcalo De'Unnero, perhaps the most dangerous monk t ever walk out of St.-Mere-Abelle, could reach across the desk and kill hir quickly and easily.
'I was there,' De'Unnero confirmed. 'I tried to defend Father Abb(Markwart, as was my solemn duty.'
'Markwart is dead and buried,' Braumin said, growing a bit more con! dent as he considered the events and the fact that De'Unnero was withoi allies within Palmaris. 'Buried and discredited.'
If De'Unnero was surprised, he hid it well.
'Elbryan the Nightbird, too, died in the battle,' Abbot Braumin we on, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile touch De'Unnero's face. great loss to all the world.'
De'Unnero nodded, though his expression hardly revealed any agre ment with the sentiment, more an acknowledgment of Braumin's opinior
Finally, the abbot did manage to stand up and face De'Unnero square 'Where have you been? ' he demanded. 'We have just passed through c darkest and most confused days-we nearly lost all to King Danube-a we are not even certain of where we now stand within the kingdom among the populace. And yet, where is Abbot De'Unnero during all this? Where is the man who will reveal the truth of Father Abbot Ma wart's fall?'
'Perhaps it is a truth I did not believe the Church was ready to hee De'Unnero replied forcefully. He stood back, though, and chuckl 'Markwart erred,' he admitted, and those two words coming from mouth of this man nearly knocked Abbot Braumin off his feet. 'As De'Unnero in trusting him.' 'He was possessed by Bestesbulzibar,' Abbot Braumin dared to remark. That proclamation brought De'Unnero back to his fine edge of anger, eyes shining dangerously.
'How dare you make such a claim? '
'You just said-'
'That he erred,' said De'Unnero. 'And so I believe he did. He erred in his obsession with the followers of Avelyn Desbris. Better to let the lot of you play out your philosophies, that your own errors might be laid bare for all to see.'
'You come back here to speak such nonsense?' Abbot Braumin asked, walking around the desk, for he did not like the way that De'Unnero was using it as a prop to gain a physical advantage. 'If you are of Markwart's mind, then know that your ideas have been discredited.'
'Because Father Abbot Markwart was possessed by Bestesbulzibar?' De'Unnero asked skeptically.
'Yes!' the abbot of St. Precious snapped. 'By the words ofJilseponie herself!' He didn't miss the flash of anger that crossed De'Unnero's face at the mention of the woman. 'She, who survived the fight with Markwart, who went to him spiritually to do battle, saw the truth of the man, saw the alliance he had made with the most foul demon.'
De'Unnero began laughing before Braumin finished the sentence. 'And you would expect her to say differently?' he asked. 'Would she admit, then, that Father Abbot Markwart was possessed by angels? '
'You have missed so much,' Braumin replied.
'I have witnessed more than you believe from afar.'
'Then where have you been?' the abbot demanded. 'As we passed our trials with King Danube and Duke Kalas-now Baron of Palmaris-where was Marcalo De'Unnero? As we began our inquisition into the disposition of Father Abbot Markwart, where was De'Unnero? Did you fear, perhaps, that you would be brought to answer for your crimes? '
'Fear?' echoed the former abbot, the former bishop of Palmaris. 'And pray tell me what crimes I might have to answer for, good Abbot. Aloysius Crump? ' he asked, referring to a merchant whom he, acting as bishop, had arrested and subsequently executed. 'Tried and convicted of hiding gemstones, when the edict of the Father Abbot was that I should confiscate every one. What then have I done to deserve such words as these? I stood by Father Abbot Markwart, as I was trained to do at St.-Mere-Abelle, as you were trained to do before Master Jojonah poisoned your heart with his silly beliefs. Yes, my friend, I will speak honestly with you and will not begin to pretend that I mourn the death of the heretic Jojonah. And, yes, I freely admit that I acted the part of Father Abbot Markwart's second and followed his commands, the orders of the rightful leader of the Abellican Church, as any soldier would follow the orders of King Danube. Am I to be called to account for that? Will Braumin Herde place me