Katrin was afraid.
Katrin was a heartbeat away from the throne of the Grail Empire. Katrin was caught in the eye of a growing cyclone of intrigue. Everyone wanted to manipulate or control her. She trusted no one. Not even the little sister who might someday want to replace her.
Where, oh where, was Ferris Renfrow when Johannes Blackboots's girls were in desperate need?
4. Winds of Despair
Brother Candle followed Count Raymone Garete from Caron ande Lette down to Antieux. The Count gave him no choice. He was suspicious of the Perfect Master. He was suspicious of Maysaleans in general, though he had Seekers After Light in his own family. The Count was not a warrior of faith, he was a devout Connecten nationalist who refused to permit outsider mischief in his motherland.
Count Raymone's determination animated Antieux as well. Despite disasters wrought by a succession of corrupt Brothen Episcopal bishops and two invading armies, the city was busy, defiant, and increasingly prosperous. Much of the destruction wrought by the more successful siege had been undone. The cathedral remained as the invaders had left it, ruined by fire, with a thousand dead women, children, old people, and innocents entombed inside. Count Raymone had decreed that the cathedral would become a monument, 'Sanctified to the Usurper Patriarch by the blood of those he claimed are his flock.'
That massacre would undermine the Church in the Connec for centuries to come.
No one who had not been there ever fully understood how deeply the massacre scarred the survivors.
It was burned black on their emotional bones. And on Count Raymone more than most because he had been unable to prevent it.
He had powerful support throughout the End of Connec.
Duke Tormond failed to understand how much the hearts ol the people of Antieux had been darkened.
Brother Candle said, 'I've known Tormond since we were boys. He's not a bad man. He means well. He's just disconnected from everyday reality. Despite his daily opportunities and a suite of advisers.' Brother Candle became one of those whenever he visited Khaurene.
Count Raymone snapped, 'He's a fool. As well meaning is Aaron of Chaldar himself, possibly, but a blind fool.'
The discussion of the Duke's capacities had been occasioned by a letter ordering Count Raymone to appear beforet the Duke to explain his bad behavior. There had been complaints from Sublime V and Bishop Morcant Farfog of Strang.
Brother Candle did not argue. 'Sometimes Tormond does act like a man with a sorcerous caul across his eyes.'
'I believe it. I'm not going. He wants me, he can send Dunn to arrest me.' Sir Eardale Dunn was Duke Tormond's military chieftain, a refugee from Santerin who had not returned when the latest shift in succession fortunes there had made that possible. 'I'm sitting right here.'
'You sure you want to do that?' Brother Candle meant defying the Duke.
Count Raymone answered a different question. 'You're right. I need to get back into the field. My spy in Salpeno says Anne of Menand has started trying to raise another invasion force. She hasn't gotten much support. Yet. Because of the confusion in Salpeno, Santerin is pressing its claims all along the marches. Too many nobles are protecting their own towns and castles to come steal ours.'
Brother Candle nodded. He had visited Arnhand last spring. And remained healthy only because local Seekers warned him whenever the Church sent men to arrest him. 'True. And they still send their third and fourth sons, and too much treasure, to the Crusader states in the Holy Lands.'
Past crusaders had carved a half-dozen small kingdoms and principalities out of the Holy Lands. Those always needed more men and money to keep going. They were not natural entities and were under continuous pressure from the neighboring Praman kaifates.
In Arnhand the crusades were considered a religious obligation. Knights and nobles from elsewhere did try to make an armed pilgrimage once during life, but Arnhanders often went with no intention of returning.
'You need to think in longer terms, young man.' Brother Candle was old and respected. He would be given the opportunity to speak. Getting Raymone to listen would be the real challenge. 'You have to consider what consequences your choices might visit on you and Antieux both tomorrow and far into the future. Right now, just as a mental exercise, forecast for me some possible consequences of you refusing to see the Duke.'
The question did slither into Count Raymone's mind. It began to turn over clods of wishful thinking.
Brother Candle said, 'Suppose Anne of Menand assembles another gang of adventurers and, by some misfortune, she recruits a competent captain. Perhaps someone honed on the harsh battlefields of the Holy Lands. Say Antieux is besieged and that Captain is smart enough to expect competent resistance.'
'Enough! I get your point, old man. If I refuse the Duke, he could refuse me later.' That would not set a precedent. All feudal rights and obligations ran both directions. 'Considering that's a situation where he might actually do something. I must be getting old.' Count Raymone was on the cusp of thirty. 'I have to admit you're probably right.'
When Brother Candle departed, dismissed, Count Raymone sent for the Rault family. He had dragged them back to Antieux, too. Brother Candle suspected he had taken a fancy to Socia.
Brock Rault had been included in the Duke's summons.
'This is where I leave you,' Brother Candle told his traveling companions. Count Raymone scowled, ever suspicious. The Perfect feared the Count's dark outlook was opening.
Brock Rault grinned. He was excited. This was his first visit to Khaurene. 'See you at the castle, Brother.' Then his face darkened, too. He liked to point out that Raymone Garete had reason to be suspicious. His city had been attacked. More than once. He had been attacked himself. The Brothen Church kept sending priests to foment trouble in his territories. Hanging them did not dissuade others from coming. And, more than once, he had caught someone close to him conspiring with Sublime's agents.
Brother Candle watched the column wend deeper into the city, destination Metrelieux, castle of the Dukes of Khaurene.
Brother Candle went to the home of Raulet Archimbault, a leader in Khaurene's Seeker community. His eyes watered. He was surrounded by tanneries. Archimbault was a leader in that community, too.
The tanner's daughter, Kedle, admitted him.
'You've certainly grown, child.'
She reddened, lowered her gaze. He remembered her bolder, holding her own when Seekers After Light gathered.
'I didn't mean to upset you.'
He did not understand that he was a demigod to Kedle. The Perfect were rare, even here in the heartland of the Maysalean Heresy. Brother Candle thought of himself only as a wandering teacher.
'We didn't know you were coming.'
'I had no way to send word.'
'You're always welcome, Master.'
'Brother Candle. Just Brother Candle. Or Teacher, if you must. Ah. I sense a but. You're here instead of at the tanning shed. I expected your little brother. He can't possibly be working yet. Can he?'
'Yes, he can. I'm not working because we're getting ready for the wedding.'
'Whose wedding?'
'Mine.'
'But you're just… Well.'
'Time does pass, Teacher.'
The child always did have a philosophical bent.
'Evidently faster when you're not around to keep an eye on it.'
'Well, come in, Master. We'll manage something.'
