able to cope with them.”
“You are fortunate, my son. The Queen of Angels has taken a very personal interest in you, and you are hence protected against this.. . filth. For those less armored in Faith it is a contagious foul leprosy of the soul.”
Ignatius blinked at the choice of words. Dmwoski was usually a very temperate man. Then he recalled looking into eyes that were windows into nothing, whose very existence was a wound in the fabric of the world and an invitation to the mortal sin of despair…
He shook his head, refusing to be daunted. “The matter of the Liu family is very delicate. Baron Gervais, Odard Liu, was one of our companions on the Quest. By the end of it, at least, he was a true comrade; and he saved us all several times.”
“This bureaucratic morass must seem infuriating beyond bearing by contrast!” Dmwoski said.
“Am I so obvious?” Ignatius said. “It is valuable work. And the Quest was… often a nightmare. Hunger, thirst, heat, cold, battle and perils, constant fear for my companions, constant worry for those back here at home facing the enemy.”
“A single, comprehensible aim to which you could devote heart and soul; the company of honorable friends who became as dear to you as brothers and sisters; each day a new vista and a new challenge; the inexpressible glory of a direct vision of the Virgin calling you to be her chosen knight…”
Ignatius laughed. “I am so obvious, then! Yes, this is almost squalid by contrast. Absolutely essential, though. And I must not let my life be one long declension from a moment of glory. I must make that a beginning and this work also an offering to Him, the Cross I am called to carry up to Heaven’s gate.”
Dmwoski nodded. “I do not blame you in the least if you find that difficult. Let difficulty be a spur to effort. And even in your very bare-bones reports, my son, it is obvious that everyone on that quest-with the exception of Baron Odard’s traitorous servant Alex-saved each other many times. I was a soldier before I became a monk or a priest; and then after the Change, soldier and monk and priest as well, as you are now. I know the strength of those bonds. The exhilaration of shared danger is not necessarily sinful, so long as it does not become an addiction.”
“Even Alex Vinton saved the Princess… the High Queen… at least once, though without intending anything but treachery.”
“So does God turn even evil to the service of good,” Dmwoski agreed.
“And I am doing essential work here. Yet it will be a relief beyond expressing if you can lift some of that burden from me. And frankly, the tale of the Quest to Nantucket and the Sword of the Lady is also an important element in rallying support to the new kingdom.”
“What is a kingdom, if not a tale that many agree is true? Or a nation, if not a collection of shared stories? To lead is to tell stories through action. To embody them and give them substance. We shape them; and then they shape us.”
Ignatius nodded. “So if we emphasize the, ummm, cleanness and loyalty of the younger generation of House Liu, it will be useful politically. It will also show that the High King is not biased against the Association’s nobility either. They are half at least of Montival’s military power and must be, ummmm, kept sweet.”
“I should be glad to help, my son.”
Ignatius sighed slightly. I expected that, but it is so good to hear it! And the Abbot has always had a gift for dealing with the young.
“I knew a little of these matters as they occurred,” Dmwoski said. “And I have studied the papers you forwarded. The Lady Regent Sandra was always a little obsessive about complete files on every conceivable matter!”
“For which, thank God,” Ignatius said sincerely, and crossed himself again. “This matter is personally important to the High King and Her Majesty as well-they have sworn to protect Baron Odard’s younger brother and sister. Her Majesty promised it to him as he lay dying. But it is also important that they gain an overview of how it relates to the larger problem. We must defeat the CUT in battle, but in the longer run its remnants will be a severe problem, perhaps even a mortal threat… ah, the children have arrived.”
Though they were not really children anymore. Yseult was a striking yellow-haired maiden of seventeen with delicate umber-tinted features very slightly marred by four small deep pinhead-sized scars on the left side of her face, one at the corner of her eye. She wore a plain gray robe and white wimple, the habit of a lay oblate of the Sisters of Compassion. Her long, slanted blue eyes were slightly haunted, and she was limping a little from an injury about which the records told a remarkable story. Huon was younger and darker, fifteen and obviously shooting up, in a page’s outfit with the arms of the Barons of Mollala on its chest, the Lion-and-Assegai quartered with the mon symbol of House Liu. Both of them looked more than a little apprehensive as their made their curtsy and leg-forward bow respectively, and then turned to kiss the bishop’s ring. Their past year had been traumatic, to say the least.
“You are not in trouble, my children,” Ignatius said warmly. “Quite the contrary. I was with your brother Odard for over a year, all the way from Odell to the Sunrise Ocean. The second Baron of Gervais was a very brave man, a loyal comrade and a true knight whose name will live forever when honor’s praise is sung, one whom the High King has several times said to me he sorely misses at his right hand. I heard his last confession and administered the Sacraments to him. He died in great hope, and I think that hope was justified. His last request to the Princess… High Queen… was that she take you under her protection, and that she swore to do.”
The youngsters relaxed a little, though both were still a little wary under impeccable manners.
Their lives have been much disrupted, Ignatius thought. Their brother gone, their mother a traitor… to God as well as the Realm
… and unpleasantly dead, themselves under virtual house arrest, and then the direct attack of the CUT’s powers. Also the result of their mother’s folly, ably abetted by her brother.
“Young lord Huon, I am directed by Their Majesties to assure you that you are confirmed as heir to the Barony and lands of Gervais upon reaching your majority, and that there is no question of attainture for the actions of your mother and uncle. You will understand that the Lady Regent felt this matter had to be reserved for Their Majesties’ final judgment.”
“Yes, my lord Chancellor.”
“Furthermore, your education has been severely disrupted by… the unfortunate events. Her Majesty is now forming her own household-a riding household, primarily, a fighting menie, for the duration of the war. You have completed your time as a page and Lord Chaka gives you excellent recommendations. It would therefore please Her Majesty to take your oath as squire.”
Ignatius folded his hands on the desk and went on gravely: “I can testify from personal experience that Her Majesty is a knight of no mean skill with her own hands, and she will often be in the forefront at the High King’s side, or on independent commands of her own. As her squire you would share her perils and her achievements. This is a post of both honor and danger, in which you will be given the opportunity to show what is in you. Do you accept?”
Huon flushed crimson, stammered, nodded wordlessly and then nodded quickly again. It was also a public affirmation of his family’s loyalty and a promise of great preferment, if he showed well; a plum position at which any young nobleman would jump.
After a moment he spoke: “Yes, my lord Chancellor, that is, if Lord Chaka agrees. Lord Chaka has been very kind to me when it was, ummm, politically and physically dangerous to be anywhere near me, and I would not desert him.”
“He has given his consent, and”-Ignatius looked down at a letter-“says you show promise and that he wishes he could have been a better master for you as a page, for your brother’s sake and your own. Do sit, young man.”
Huon sat, nearly collapsing into the chair and looking rather stunned. Ignatius turned his attention to the boy’s sister, standing with her hands modestly clasped before her and obviously happy for Huon.
“My child, I understand that you have a special devotion for St. Bernadette of Lourdes. I take it you do not feel a vocation for the life of a religious, though?”
“No, Father… my lord Chancellor. That is, I’ve wondered, and prayed, but… I want to be married and have children and a home of my own someday. Though I’ve been glad to be useful with the Sisters.”
“It is good that you know your mind and heart,” Ignatius said robustly. “We are not all called to make the same sacrifices and a vocation must be firm and unambiguous; if there is doubt, the answer is no. According to your
