The Hallowed Hunt

His expression was decidedly ironic. Concluding, after a short mental review of the options, that the question was unanswerable, Ingrey returned a mere nod and studied his unwelcome audience.

Archdivine Fritine was an uncle of the present twin earls, a scion of the prior generation of Boarfords, dedicated to Temple service when too many older brothers made his chance of achieving high place in his kin lands unlikely. A long and typical career of a noble Temple-man lay behind him, by no means unhonorable; if he favored his kin, he equally ensured that they disgorged a steady return of favors to the Temple. His appointment to Easthome, with its important ordainer’s vote, had occurred some seven years ago, the culmination of that career. And those favors.

In Ingrey’s observation, Fritine and Hetwar tolerated each other fairly well, both men being equally practical. Through them, Kingstown and Templetown worked more often in tandem than opposed—often, but not invariably. A certain tension lay between them at present over the impending election, as Hetwar counted Fritine’s vote among the uncertain; the archdivine had connections on his mother’s side to both the Hawkmoors and the Foxbriars. And Fritine had used the excuse of his mediating Temple position to avoid promising his vote to anyone, yet. No doubt he found that uncertainty useful.

Of the archdivine’s tolerance of his wolf, Ingrey had never been sure. It was his predecessor who had signed Ingrey’s dispensation, a document Ingrey had preserved for the past decade when every other possession had been lost, now locked away in his room upstairs in this very palace. Ingrey didn’t know if Fritine’s distaste for the uncanny was theological or personal, for he seemed as oblivious to the allure of the mystical as Hetwar. So what does he make of Lewko, I wonder?

Who was presently chewing on his knuckles and staring at Ingrey in a most unsettling fashion, Ingrey realized. Ingrey favored him with a polite nod and waited for someone else to begin. Anyone but me. Five gods, my wits are unfit for this perilous company just now.

The archdivine plunged in at once. 'Learned Lewko tells us you claim to have experienced a miracle in the Temple court this morning.'

Ingrey wondered how Fritine would react if he said, No, I granted one. I was disinclined, but the god begged me so prettily. Instead, he replied, 'Nothing I could prove in a court of law, sir. Or so I am informed.'

Lewko shifted uncomfortably under his level look.

'I was there,' said the archdivine coolly.

'So you were.'

'I saw nothing.' To Fritine’s credit, in his expression of mixed worry and suspicion, worry seemed uppermost.

Ingrey inclined his head in a suitably infuriating gesture of utter neutrality. Yes, let them reveal their thoughts first.

Prince-marshal Biast said, rather hopefully, 'One could assert that the Son of Autumn taking Boleso’s soul was good evidence against the accusation of his tampering with animal spirits.'

'One could assert anything one pleased,' Ingrey agreed cordially. 'And as long as one’s eyewitness Cumril was found floating facedown in the Stork by tomorrow morning, there would be none to gainsay it. Certainly not me.'

The archdivine jerked, looking angry at what might be construed as veiled slander. Or possibly suggestion. Or perhaps threat. Or counterthreat. Ingrey trusted it was hard to be sure. Lewko’s shrewd eyes glinted in renewed curiosity, regarding Ingrey.

'That will not happen,' said the archdivine. 'Cumril is in strict custody. Justice will be served.'

'Good. Then howsoever Boleso’s soul be rescued, at least his character will get what it deserves.'

Biast winced.

Hetwar said firmly, 'So tell me, Lord Ingrey. At what point did you discover that Lady Ijada had also been infected with an animal spirit?'

Ah, they had indeed been comparing Ingrey stories. No help for it now. 'The first day out from Boar’s Head.'

With his usual deceptive calm, Hetwar inquired, 'And you did not think this worthy of mention to me?'

Gesca, standing by the opposite wall and doing his best to appear invisible, shrank at that tone. And who were you penning your letters to, Gesca, if not Hetwar? Horseriver, judging by the neat way he’d turned up on the road. And if so, was Gesca a conduit to him still?

Ingrey replied, 'At first opportunity, I placed the problem before Temple authority in the person of Learned Hallana. Who sent me to Learned Lewko.' In a sense. 'I awaited his guidance, it being clearly a Temple concern, but alas it was delayed by the crisis of the ice bear. By the time we had another chance to speak, this afternoon, it was rather overridden by other matters.' Other matters? Or the same matter, from another angle of view? Who but the gods saw around all corners simultaneously? It was a disturbing new thought. Well, shift the blame to the saint—who was watching Ingrey’s shuffle with a certain dry appreciation—and see who in this room dared to chide him.

Not Hetwar, for he frowned and veered off. 'So it seems. The girl will be dealt with in due course. A more urgent accusation has come to our ears. What do you say of Cumril’s charge that Wencel kin Horseriver also now bears a spirit animal?'

Ingrey drew a long breath. 'That such a grave charge is surely a matter for a proper Temple inquiry.'

'And what would that inquiry find?'

How great were Wencel’s powers of concealment? Better than Ingrey’s own, that was certain. 'I imagine that would depend upon their competence, sir.'

'Ingrey.' Hetwar’s warning tone, the special one pushed through his teeth, made both Gesca and Biast flinch, this time. Ingrey stood fast. 'The man is an earl-ordainer, and we are on the verge of an election. I thought he was a staunch advocate of the rightful heir.'

He nodded to Biast, who nodded back gratefully. Fritine blinked, and said nothing.

Hetwar continued, 'If this is not the case, I need to know! I cannot afford to lose his support in some untimely arrest.'

'Well,' said Ingrey blandly, 'then your solution is simple. Wait until after you have extracted his vote to turn and attack him.'

Biast looked as though he’d bitten into a worm. Hetwar seemed, for a moment, as if he was actually considering this. Fritine looked blank indeed, and Ingrey wondered anew where his ordaining vote was promised.

Had Cumril’s chances of kissing the Stork just gone up? Do I care? Ingrey sighed. Probably. Ingrey came to the glum realization that there was not a man in this room that he would fully trust with his newest revelations about Horseriver. I want Ijada.

Ingrey clenched his hands behind his back. My turn. 'Archdivine. You are both theologian and ordainer. You must know if anyone does. Can you tell me—what is the precise theological difference between the hallow kingship of the Old Weald and its renewed form under Quintarian orthodoxy?'

Hetwar stared at him, a look of Where in five gods’ names did that question come from, Ingrey? writ plain on his face. But he eased back in his seat and gestured Fritine to answer, clearly just as curious to see where the answer would take them.

Fritine drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. 'The old hallow king was elected by the heads of the thirteen strongest kin tribes. The new, by eight great kin houses and five Temple ordainers. The rights of blood and primogeniture are given greater precedence'—he glanced at Biast—'after the Darthacan manner. Since the election of the hallow king more often than not used to be a pretext for tribal warfare, this more peaceful transfer of powers between generations itself seems the mark of godly blessings.' His further nod to Biast gave impulsion to the hint, And let us keep it that way.

'A political answer was not what I asked for,' said Ingrey. 'Was the old hallow king always a spirit warrior, or... or a shaman?' And how unsafe was it going to prove, to release that particular term into the conversation?

Lewko sat up with a look of growing interest. 'I have heard something of the sort. The old hallow king was