“She appears to be thriving in the Strake household. As long as the Strakes show their commitment to the Church, I see no reason to worry about the child.”
“Yes, of course. I shall speak to Owen immediately.”
“Splendid.” Bumble looked back out toward the lawn. “I shall tell him you wish to speak with him.”
“Please do.”
Bumble turned halfway toward the door, then chuckled. “You surprised me, Highness.”
“Yes?”
“Indeed. I had mistakenly believed you had a spine.”
Owen watched Bumble struggle to keep up with the Prince. Squatting, he set his daughter down. “Shall we go see your mother?”
Miranda nodded solemnly, then took Owen’s hand. “Come, Papa.”
He looked back at Nathaniel. “Leave my stuff, I’ll get it later.”
Nathaniel straightened up from his own pack. “Reckoned you could give Colonel Rathfield his black wolf pelt. I’ll leave the other for the Prince. I can drop your things at your dock. Wanted to head down Temperance.”
Owen caught the bound pelt with his free hand. “Have Mrs. Lighter open our apartment for you.”
“Obliged. Tell the Prince to save up his questions iffen your journals don’t answer them.”
“Papa!” Miranda tugged on his hand.
Nathaniel nodded. “Go on. You been away too long. I will see you in town.”
“Godspeed.” Owen tossed Nathaniel a quick salute, then headed up the lawn with his daughter. Her hand felt so tiny in his, and so soft. There hadn’t been a day he’d not thought of her, but she had taken on the quality of a dream, especially since Piety. But here, with such a big smile and those giggles, Owen felt ready to burst with happiness.
“Momma, it’s Papa! Uncle Ian, Becca, it’s my papa!”
Owen tossed the wolf pelt to Rathfield. “Don’t get up, Colonel. We’ve got this pelt for you. The others are with the Altashee. They’ll do them up nice.”
“Nicely, Owen, it’s nicely.” Catherine rose from her chair. “The more time you spend in the wilds, you forget everything of civilization.”
Owen plucked off his hat and bowed politely. “Highness, Catherine.”
Gisella smiled up from her chair. “I am so pleased to see you healthy and whole.”
“And I’m pleased to be that way.” Owen settled his hat on his daughter’s head. It fell to cover her face, and she laughed.
Catherine whisked it off her. “Owen, it’s filthy. Who knows what sort of vermin…”
“The same sort that would be on me, I would guess.” He held his arms open, inviting his wife into an embrace.
She stepped toward him, but came at angle and kissed somewhere in the vicinity of his cheek. “I am very glad you are home, Captain Strake.”
“As am I, Strake.” Rathfield had struggled to his feet and leaned on a stout cane. “I must thank you for the lend of your wife. She has taken very good care of me. Nursed me back to health, in fact. I shall be sorry to quit your home, it has been so inviting, but I’ve made inquiries about finding a place in Temperance.”
Catherine looked at him. “You shall do no such thing, Ian. You were our guest before you left. Owen’s return is no reason for you to leave.”
“I appreciate what you are saying, Mrs. Strake but…”
Owen rested a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Colonel, I don’t know how much you remember about Happy Valley, but there’s one image I’ll never forget. We were all done for, then you joined the fight. You saved us. I won’t reward such courage by turning you out of my home.”
Rathfield regarded Owen oddly, then nodded. “Thank you, Captain Strake. In that case, I shall not refuse your hospitality, at least, for a little while longer.”
Bishop Bumble appeared at Owen’s right hand. “Captain Strake, the Prince would appreciate a word. Oh, my, Colonel, is that a wolf pelt?”
Feeling vaguely uneasy, Owen excused himself and made for the Prince’s laboratory. He wasn’t certain why he felt out of sorts, but having Rathfield and Bumble flanking him would have been enough to perturb anyone. He entered the laboratory. “You wished to see me, Highness?”
“Yes, please, Owen. Shut the door, if you don’t mind.”
Owen complied with the request. “Are you well, Highness?”
Vlad sighed, more with resignation than weariness and just a hint of frustration. “I shall put it to you directly. Bishop Bumble ordered me to order you to attend services every Sunday from this week hence.”
“ Ordered you, Highness?”
“That’s not all. Owen, I trust you implicitly, but I have a very difficult task to request of you.”
“Anything, Highness.”
“Don’t say that until you hear me out.” The Prince hunched forward on his chair. “While you have been away, I have learned some things which some people would find disturbing. I need your help to determine if there is a cause for concern. If you do choose to participate, however, you cannot say anything to your wife. She must remain completely ignorant, for her sake and the sake of your daughter. If Bumble gets wind of what we are doing, he will go after us as he is going after the Steward. The only way your wife and daughter will survive is if they can deny everything. So, there is the question: Can you lie to your wife? Can you keep a secret from her?”
Owen exhaled slowly. “If it were not important, you would not ask. You said you trust me, Highness. I trust you. If this is part of the duty you demand from me, no one will have word from me of anything.”
“It could destroy your marriage.”
“Will what you ask save Mystria?”
Vlad nodded solemnly. “I believe it may be the only way to save Mystria. From Branch, from Bumble, perhaps from the Crown itself.”
“I can keep a secret from her.” For Mystria, for Miranda’s future. He smiled. “To save Mystria, I’ll even stay awake during Bumble’s sermons.”
Vlad stood and clapped him on both shoulders. “I hate putting this burden upon you, Owen. I truly do. The situation is simple: Bumble wants the Steward dead because the Steward has uncovered knowledge about magick which the Church wants to remain a secret. Magick, right now, is limited by the spells we are taught by instructors sanctioned by the Church. We are led to believe these are the only spells, and they’re of marginal importance, relatively speaking. But you’ve seen that the Shedashee have a different approach to magick.”
Owen nodded. “And the Norghaest, they might have yet another approach. I will explain, Highness, but suffice it to say, for now, that Rufus Branch may have been using their magick. Heck, he might even be one.”
“Ah, so this becomes even more delicate.” Vlad shook his head. “Bumble wants the Steward dead to put an end to the possibility of his revealing the secret. The problem is, I believe I have learned it. This makes me as much of a danger in the eyes of the Church as Ezekiel Fire.”
Owen nodded. “Bumble doesn’t know that yet, so following his orders will lull him into a false sense of security.”
“Precisely. We need time to figure out how to use what Fire knows, and to figure out what happened at Happy Valley.”
Visions of blood and fire flooded back into Owen’s mind. “I’ve learned some things which I can share in that regard, Highness. The most important of them is this: if we are going to stop the Norghaest, we have very little time in which to do it.”
Chapter Thirty-six
25 June 1767 Tanner and Hound, Temperance Temperance Bay, Mystria
Nathaniel wasn’t sure if the Tanner and Hound’s ale had gotten worse since he’d been gone, but it certainly hadn’t gotten any better. Compared to salksasi he might as well have been drinking weak tea, but he’d never been given much to drinking to the point of drunkenness. While he could recall, dimly, some memories of fun times he’d
