Cethe (48 page)

“Yes,” agreed the abbot somberly. “It is a great tragedy.”

“And yet, the Church is doing nothing.”

The abbot blinked. “We are praying to Loth to end the rain and ease their suffering…”

“Aren’t there a number of buildings on the property, barns and the like, that could easily shelter people until the waters

recede? Why have you not opened them?”

“Bring the people here?” Drummond was astonished. “But our buildings are in use!”

“Most of your barns should be empty now, your flocks at pasture.”

The abbot began to look uneasy. “Yes,” he admitted, “but three of the buildings are to be put in use very soon for other things.

We could give the vil agers use of the two barns farthest to the east.”

“What about those nearer the abbey? The buildings you mention are several miles from the vil age. The vil agers must be able

to come and go easily. The faster they rebuild, the faster you have your barns back, is that not so?”

“We are a poor abbey,” objected the man, plucking at his satin waistcoat with a beringed hand. “The people wil certainly

expect us to provide food. Who knows what they might do if we could not accommodate them?”

“But you’l be able to do so.” Stefn’s heart beat a little faster. He remembered seeing Drummond at the castle, sitting with his

father, laughing and drinking with the rest of them. Maybe Drummond remembered this, too.

“I’m delighted to see you take such an interest in parish affairs, my lord.” The abbot smiled thinly. “But perhaps you should

leave matters as they’ve always been. One such as you needs be careful lest he continue to bring misfortune onto others.” He

paused delicately. “Who knows? Perhaps it is your continued presence in Shia that brings about these catastrophes.”

Shocked to immobility, Stefn could only stare at the smug cleric. His heart was racing. The gauntlet had been thrown down.

Did he have the courage to pick it up?

“My lord,” he said final y, “I’ve lately had cause to review the parish covenant with the Church, including the particulars of the

abbey’s land leases.”

Drummond’s narrow jaw tightened. “Is that so, my lord? I trust everything was in order?”

“Yes.” Stefn took a deep breath. “I noted, however, the lease expires in Rivkel, less than three months from now. It is at the

discretion of the parish lord to renew it and on what terms.”

The abbot’s mouth sagged. “W-what? But surely that’s a mere formality!”

“In the past, yes, but the Hunters are gone and the Church is not going to replace them. I owe al egiance only to the royal

house of Lothlain, in whose name I rule this parish. The Church, by law, exists here at my pleasure. Sin-catcher or not, Abbot

Drummond, that is the way of it.”

“How dare you!” Drummond quivered with outrage. His face took on a mottled hue. “It seems the rumors I’ve heard of

business in the castle is true!”

Stefn heard that with a lurch of his heart, but said only, “I know nothing of rumors. To what use do you plan to put the other

three barns?”

Drummond, lips parted to deliver his next retort, stammered. “The other three? Oh, yes. Those.”

“Right now, I see no reason not to send al the vil agers here to be housed in al five of the barns.”

The abbot went from choleric to nervous in a heartbeat. “Ah those. Yes, wel … the Celestial Counsel has granted — It was our

hope to begin the farming of wheat on the abbey lands, but the labor problem… ”

“Penitents? The Church is sending Penitents?”

Drummond harrumphed. “Yes,” he replied haughtily. “And why not?”

“Not in Shia.” Stefn was appal ed. “I wil not have Penitents in Shia! Send word to the Council immediately that you don’t need

them after al !”

“I’l do nothing of the sort!” Pushed past his endurance, the abbot’s voice rose. “Do you mean to forbid the presence of h’nara

on Shian soil as your father did? I cal you a hypocrite, my lord, for you entertain taints in your house!”

“You misunderstand,” retorted Stefn. “I have no objection to h’nara on Shian soil, only Penitents. Shia is a parish of free men. I

wil tolerate no slavery within its borders.”

“They are not slaves…”

“No!” Stefn’s own temper slipped. “I wil not hear your lies. You may cal them whatever you wil ; I know slavery when I see it.

Not here, my lord abbot. And if you defy me, I wil exercise my right as earl of this parish and take them from you, including the boy

who answered your door!”

“You would not dare!”

“Would I not? His Highness left a company of Royal Guard to see to the security of the parish. Do not try me, Abbot

Drummond. Sin-catcher though I be, I am stil an Eldering. Think on that as you weigh your desire to continue as abbot in Shia!”

At the time King Arami I founded the 12 High Orders, he also established the Royal Advisori, a Council of highblood Lords

whose duty it was to advise him on matters of governance. Each member was given authority over a parish and was answerable

only to the king himself.

from:
The Chronicles of Tanyrin: Volume II
,

Year of Loth’s Dominion 1349

“Your Highness, pardon the interruption, but you’ve a visitor.”

Severyn, seated at his desk, looked up to see Timkins hovering in the doorway of his study. “This late?” He glanced across

the room at the clock. It was near midnight.

“It’s Marin, sir. He says he must speak to you at once.”

Alarm shot through Severyn. Marin should be in Shia, keeping a watch on the young earl. He nodded and Timkins stepped

aside to admit the tal h’nar.

Marin clearly had come straight from the road, hair and clothing damp. Timkins withdrew discreetly, closing the door after him.

“We’ve trouble in Shia, Your Highness,” he said without preamble.

“Is it Eldering?”

Marin, startled, shook his head and gave the prince his report. When he was finished, Severyn sat, alarmed. “Hunter spies?

Damnation!”

Rising from his chair, Severyn paced to the window and stared out into the night. The distant twinkling of Lothmont’s lights

were reflected in the lake. It had final y stopped raining.

“Have you spoken to Michael?”

“No, Your Highness. I came straight here.”

Severyn heard that with relief. “Good man. The last thing we need is for Michael to go haring off to Shia with the Church

watching it. Damn! I should probably go there at once, just in case.”

Severyn’s words were cut off by a muffled boom. Underfoot, the castle seemed to move, as if the earth under it had been

jerked by some giant hand. To the northeast, deep in Lothmont’s slums, a bright flash of light split the dark.

“H-Highness!”

The flash lasted only a moment. Severyn stared at the spot where it had been. As he did so, flames appeared, just a smal

glow at first, then more, leaping high against the night sky. He turned away from the window. As he did, the door to the study burst

open to admit Corliss, the captain much agitated. “Your Highness! Take cover! We’re under attack!”

“Has the island been secured?”

“Of course, Your Highness!”

“And Arami?”

“The king and queen’s quarters are secure.”

“Good. Timkins! My coat!”

“Is it possible someone has moved cannons, completely unnoticed, across the open countryside and set up outside Lothmont?

” Corliss wondered.

“I sincerely doubt it,” replied Severyn. He shrugged into the jacket Timkins held out for him. “Whatever it is, I’m going to have a

look myself.”

In the corridor, several of Arami’s ministers and generals had gathered. Others were hurrying toward them.

“Roust the army!” one cried.

“Rebels! It must be rebels!” worried another.

“You honestly believe Lothmont was fired upon?” demanded Severyn, striding away toward the stair. They ran to keep up.

“I don’t know what else to think, Your Highness,” replied a frightened lord. “There are no foundries in that part of town, no

armories or distil eries, nothing we know of that could cause such an explosion.”

“Perhaps they have been gathering weapons in stealth for months!” another minister speculated.

“Who?” Severyn found it al unbelievable.

“H-Highness?”

“Who would attack us, Mackleby? And why the east side? There’s nothing of any value there. It’s al slum.”

“Maybe ‘tis witchcraft.” A minister, one of his father’s holdovers, gave him a stern look. “The Church has been warning for

years of the cursed naragi’s return. What if it’s final y happened?”

“Absurd,” snapped Severyn, but he felt an uncomfortable flutter in his stomach. “Superstition! The nara are gone!”

“There are stories… ”

“Most likely someone set up an unlawful distil ery.” Severyn cut the man off, ignoring his resentful scowl. “That is one of the

city’s poorest neighborhoods. If the destruction is as widespread as it appears from here, the people there wil require immediate

assistance.”

“But what about the possibility that it is an attack… ”

“Send a few men to scour the countryside outside the city, but prepare most of your troops for fighting fires and rescuing the

wounded.”

At the bottom of the stairs, more of the Royal Guard had gathered, most of them officers. Corliss went straight to them and

began to issue orders.

“Shal I cal for your carriage, Highness?” Timkins asked.

“No,” replied Severyn. “I’l ride.”

“Highness! You wil take guards?”

“Have them fol ow at once. In the meantime, find Mick and the others. They’l do as escorts.”

Timkins had to be content with that. Men were sent off to the Fairhands Club to find the two lords. In the meantime, Severyn

left the palace and rode straight to the mainland.

It was raining again, a thin, misty drizzle, when he was joined by Jeremy at the Thaelrick bridge.

“Where’s Mick and Auron?”

“Don’t know. I’m sure they’l be along shortly.”

They gal oped through near-deserted streets toward the city’s northeast end. As they approached, the stench of smoke and

wet ash grew stronger. People appeared, standing about in confusion, looking this way and that. Severyn noted with displeasure a

large number of Hunters among them.

“Looks like the Cathedral is awful y concerned about your distil ery,” Jeremy said. “Tel me that ain’t a Dragon over there.”

Severyn glanced around. There was no mistaking the helmet or the crimson trim on the dark green Hunter uniform. Jaw

tightening, Severyn cantered over to the man whose impatient glance quickly turned to consternation.

“Your Highness!”

“Why are you here?” Severyn demanded. “This is a civil matter. The Cathedral oversteps its authority!”

“H-Highness?”

“The people wil see al these troops and panic! Who was the fool who sent you out here?”

The officer was surprised at his question and offended. “Your Highness! It was His Excel ency, Bishop Montaigne! He fears

foul witchcraft, sir!”

“His Majesty’s Guard is responsible for keeping the peace in Lothmont,” returned Severyn, getting hold of his temper. “I

appreciate Montaigne’s desire to be of assistance, but supplies of food and medicines for those affected would be more valuable

than his personal army.”

“But, Highness! The bolt of fire that struck the city! What else but witchcraft could cause such a thing?”

A crowd gathered. Muttering, both in agreement and incredulity, rose around them.

“You personal y saw this bolt?”

“Wel , no, your Highness, but…”

“A poorly constructed whisky stil , more like,” Severyn retorted loudly, “and a distil er who enjoyed too much of his own

product, I’l wager.”

That brought laughter and nods al about.

“Stand aside. I wil have a look. Go back to the Cathedral immediately and tel Montaigne to prepare to render assistance for

the wounded.”

Without giving the Hunter a chance to respond, the prince wheeled his horse around and, to sporadic cheers from the

citizenry, waved Hunters out of his way and rode on.

It was as bad as he’d feared. Windows broken, scorched and blackened bricks: they made their way careful y along the

debris-covered street. Ahead, cries and screams echoed eerily in the choking fog of smoke and misty rain.

The devastation worsened as they advanced. Cracked and blackened buildings gave way to complete ruin, wal s burned to

charred skeletons, pavement fissured from the intensity of the heat. Bits of glass carpeted the ground. Severyn dismounted and

picked one up. It was irregularly shaped and cloudy with tiny bubbles, but its surface was otherwise smooth as a river-polished

pebble.

A clatter of hooves behind announced the arrival of the Royal Guard. Severyn and Jeremy dismounted as the commander

came forward.

“Keep people away,” Severyn instructed him. Then he and Jeremy strode toward an open space completely hemmed in by the

destruction.

The space was perfectly round and within it, not one thing remained standing. The only evidence of what had been there

before were foundation stones. There wasn’t even ash; the entire circle was clean, the earth blasted smooth and shining as if

overlaid with black glass.

Severyn swore under his breath. He met Iarhlaith’s grim look of inquiry with a brief nod. “Stay here,” he said. With Jeremy