Of course, a mere Lord Chancellor could not refuse such a request, and Pasevalles had no idea of doing so. He had avoided the princess as long as he could while he dealt with more pressing matters, because he was certain that one way or another what she wanted most from him was his time and attention. Still, he was beginning to be intrigued by the steadfastness of her pursuit. What could she be seeking? Surely it could be nothing so obvious as a widowed woman seeking attention from an unmarried man? He had always supposed Princess Idela more subtle than that.
Pasevalles wrote a suitably fulsome reply, then blotted and folded it before affixing his seal—his own seal, not the Seal of the High Throne he was permitted to use as Lord Chancellor when he wrote in the king’s and queen’s names. If Idela wanted something from him, he was going to work very carefully to keep it separate from his hard-won position as long as possible. Because unlike those who had been born into their high station in life, or married into it, Pasevalles had fought his way into a position of importance purely by hard work and clever choices. But that also meant that without family or titled spouse, he had little to protect what he had gained. Fortune was a wheel, as Pasevalles knew better than most, and the Wheel of Fortune could spin again without warning, raising some and throwing others into the dust.
The bees, who had been driven away by the young monk’s work among the rosemary plants, now began to settle back into contented browsing, but Brother Etan was less happy. He looked, Tiamak thought, as though he had awakened one morning to find the sky below him and the earth above him. “You are so pale,” he said. “Are you well, Brother? You seem unwell. Is this not good news that I bring?”
“Good news?” Etan stared as though he could not understand what the other man was saying. “I pray forgiveness, Lord—but how could it be good news? I am to give up my home and my work here and go out into the world—into foreign lands and among barbarians! And my task is to look for children who have been missing twenty years and more. Surely this is a fruitless engagement.”
Tiamak pursed his lips, unhappy with himself. “Oh, dear. I see. He Who Always Steps On Sand forgive me, I have not followed a careful path.” He reached out and put his slender hand on Etan’s sleeve. “Come, sit with me here and let me explain.”
Etan allowed himself to be led out of the cathedral’s herb garden to a bench on the path beside it. The monk absentmindedly wiped his hands against his cassock, but instead of the rosemary oils on his hands being wiped away, the fluff from his garment simply stuck to his palms and fingers instead.
“I was born in the swamp, you know,” Tiamak told him. “As a child in the Wran, I could hardly grasp that there were other places, let alone how different they were. I did not know anyone who had ever worn shoes! But that was all I knew. When I left the first time and went up the water to Kwanitupul, I was astonished that such a place could exist. So many people! And nobody ever touched land, or so it seemed. Kwanitupul is almost entirely built on platforms, you see.”
“I know something of Kwanitupul, Lord Tiamak. You have told me about it before.”
He smiled. “Yes, but I am not talking about Kwanitupul. I am talking about traveling away from one’s home and familiar surroundings. Because Kwanitupul was only the most magnificent, terrifying thing I had ever seen for a very brief while. Then I went on to Perdruin, an island that seemed to me as large as the Wran, and most of it one big and bustling city. And then I saw Nabban itself . . . !” Tiamak shook his head. “I am glad I did not see that first after I left the swamp, because I think such size and noise and bustle would have stopped my heart.”
“But I am not, if you will forgive me, Lord, a Wrannaman,” Etan said. “I live in one of the Osten Ard’s largest cities. I have met people from all over the world here. It is not quite the same as living in . . . well, a swamp.”
“No, of course it isn’t. But the point I am trying to make is that there is nothing that grows one’s thoughts so much as seeing new things.” Slowly, Tiamak told himself. Slowly, so as only to dazzle, not blind. “You are a very wise young man, Etan, but you have been sheltered. This is your chance to see parts of the world even Archbishop Gervis has never seen and never will see.”
“But why? That is my question? Why me? And why this strange task now, when there seem to be so many other things I could turn my hand to?”
“Because I think you would be the best choice for the task, first of all.” Tiamak let himself become a little firmer. “I have some experience of the people, and some little experience of wisdom, and I do not often say, ‘There is a man who is already wise, but who can become wiser still, a true and rare thinker’. But I believe you are such a person.”
Now Etan was clearly confused again. “But could not anyone do this better than me, my lord? Some knight, or better still some nobleman who could compel people to answer his questions?”
“Anybody can lie, Brother. People tell the powerful folk what they think those folk want to hear. That, or they deem power too dangerous and so they do not tell them anything at all. If we send a large royal mission, with Sir Zakiel or Count Eolair in charge, people will line up to tell them half-truths and honest rumors in the hope of currying favor. That is not the way to learn something truly useful—and it is certainly no way to keep what you want to learn a secret.”
“This is to be secret?”
“How else? Should we, in a time when another war with the Norns seems all too frighteningly possible, trumpet the news that King John’s only surviving son, who most think died in the last battle with the Storm King, is actually alive but we have lost track of him, along with his wife and two royal children? It would take years to unravel the true and false stories that would follow such a revelation, not to mention it would doubtless spawn pretenders to the throne as well, all claiming to be one of Josua’s vanished children. And do you not think the news of this disappearance would also be keenly appreciated under Stormspike? Then we would find ourselves not just looking for Josua, but quite possibly in a competition to find him against the Norns themselves.”
“I suppose I see some sense in what you say.” Etan frowned, thinking it over. “But why now? As you say, we might soon be at war—although I confess I had not realized the situation was so dire. Why dig up a matter that has lain undisturbed for twenty years or more?”
Tiamak could not repress a sigh. “Because it has not lain undisturbed for twenty years. No, we have tried on several occasions to find out the truth of Josua’s disappearance and always failed. But two things make this a current problem. One is that our king and queen made a promise to Duke Isgrimnur on his deathbed to renew the search for Josua’s children—Isgrimnur’s god-children. Solace to the soul of that good old man would be reason enough, trust me. But there is another reason, one even the king and queen have not yet entirely realized. No, don’t ask me yet,” he said, forestalling Etan’s questions. “Each thing in its own time. Let us go to my chambers. My wife is caring for the poisoned Sithi-woman, so we will have some privacy for a little while that we cannot have anywhere else in this busy city or even the castle. Come.”
• • •
Brother Etan was clearly still troubled. Tiamak sympathized—it was a great deal to take in all at once. “How did you come to work in the castle?” he asked, pouring them each a cup of wine.
“In the castle? Because Lord Pasevalles asked for me, my lord, and the Archbishop said I might go and help him in the Chancelry.”
Tiamak could not help smiling. “No, in fact, that is not quite how you came to work in the castle. I had been watching you, and when Pasevalles was looking for help I suggested he ask for you. Obviously, he found my suggestion useful. And I have been selfish enough to employ you for a few tasks myself, as you know. But that is not precisely the question that should interest you. Why do you think I noticed you?”
Etan lifted his hands in frustration. “I have no idea, Lord Tiamak, and in t
ruth I am a bit weary answering, because it seems everything I know is wrong.”
“Very good. I like that you stand up for yourself. A man of philosophy must trust his own thoughts, at least enough to follow them and see where they lead. I noticed you because you were ambitious.” He held up his hand. “No, no, I do not mean it in any bad way. You were not seeking fame, or reward. But you have what I would call a restless mind. It is not content to do things the old way simply because that is how they have always been done. You look at a problem as something to be solved, rather than something to be avoided. That is a form of ambition. And you have ideas. That is ambition, too. Do you remember when you told Pasevalles that hanging baskets on a loop of rope would be faster for moving things back and forth between the Treasury and the Chancelry than using messengers?”
“I recall it now that you say it,” said Etan. “But how do you know about it?”
“Because I have made it my business to know about you, Brother. I am interested in people who think for themselves, who value knowledge as knowledge, but also for what good it may do their fellow men.” Tiamak sipped a little of his own wine. “This is not very good, I’m afraid. Neither Lady Thelía nor I drink spirits often, so we never know what to keep on hand for other people.”
Etan waved his hand to show that it did not matter.
“Very well,” Tiamak said. “Listen carefully, because much of what I will tell you now will bear directly on your task—a task, as I should have made clear at the beginning, that you are free to refuse.”
The monk’s look of surprise grew more exaggerated. “I am? I confess, I did not know that.”
“Of course. Unless it were an obvious matter of life or death, I would not send someone away against his will—away from, as you said, his home and his work. But I suspect by the time I’ve finished talking to you here, you will see the benefits of this opportunity and will not hesitate to accept it.”
A certain interest crept into Etan’s face. “Truly? Is that a wager, my lord?”
“Of sorts. Let’s say this—if you do not see the clear advantages to you in taking this task, and ask for it to be given to you, I will apologize and we will never speak of it again. You will bear no stain or discredit for refusing. Is that fair?”
“More than fair.”
“Good. Then listen while I begin with the story of Ealhstan— the Fisher King as many of the people call him—the first true Erkynlandish king. He was also, by the way, King Simon’s ancestor.”
“I have heard something about that.”
“Not much, I wager. The king is oddly ashamed of his own blood—no, not his blood, but the right to rule that was granted him because of it. But that is common to much of what we are going to talk about now—the fact that in some ways, great men and women are just as foolishly complicated as the rest of us.”
“Very well.” Etan added water to his third cup of wine, since he was thirsty but did not want his wits to be muddled. “I will give it back to you such as I understand it.” As the afternoon had stretched on, the parade of names and events had become more than slightly dizzying, despite Lord Tiamak’s patient willingness to explain things over and over. “The League of the Scroll was founded by King Ealhstan here in the Hayholt, to protect and increase knowledge. Over the years there have been many members, usually seven at a time, but in recent years the numbers have dwindled.”
“Not so much dwindled,” Tiamak said. “We never fully replaced the original members who died during the war or . . . well, you know what happened to Pryrates.”
Etan nodded. The red priest was not spoken of by Mother Church in any official way, but men of God were quite willing to tell tales in private when they had the chance, and Pryrates was a demon-figure who still horrified and fascinated. “I understand. But Prince Josua was a Scrollbearer! I never knew that.”
“After the tower fell and the war was over, yes,” Tiamak said. “It seemed like an ideal role for someone like Josua, who had an active, useful mind and, while he cared very much about his father’s kingdom, he did not wish to rule it. The sad part is that we had him in the League only a few years before he disappeared.”
“Leaving his children with their mother . . . what was her name? Vorsava?”
“Vorzheva, daughter of a Thrithings clan-leader. Yes, their twin children, Derra and Deornoth. But whether he disappeared and left his wife alone we really don’t know.”
“Because after Josua’s last letters, nobody heard from any of them.”
“Yes, and later I will show you those letters, because they are the starting point for any search. But don’t misunderstand, Brother. The king and queen did not ignore this matter—Josua was the queen’s uncle. He knighted Simon when the king was only a kitchen boy. They both loved him very much.”
“I understand. Now, forgive me if I have the order wrong, my lord, but Duke Isgrimnur and Count Eolair both made trips south to Kwanitupul to search for them. And you went with them.”
“I went with Eolair, which was the first time we searched for them.” Tiamak smiled. “I had not known the count well before. I am grateful we were able to journey together.”
“But you said you found nothing. The inn that Josua owned had been sold, and the new owners said they did not know where the family had gone. Who sold it? Josua or Vorzheva?”
“The money was paid to a dark-haired woman who might have been Vorzheva,” Tiamak replied. “The price was not high, which suggests that, for whatever reason, she did not want to hold out for a better one.”
“So did Vor-shay-vah go back to her home?” Etan asked, pleased that he could finally wrap his mouth around the unfamiliar name. “You said she was from the High Thrithings.”
“She hated the grasslands, and she hated her father, who was a clan-chief. That is all I know for certain. If she did go back, Eolair could find nobody among the Thrithings-folk who knew anything about it. We did not speak to her father, but someone else did on our behalf, and told us he said that if she had come back with Josua’s children, he would have killed them all.”
“Barbarian monster.”
“Yes, but such men are not limited to the grasslands and the swamps of Osten Ard. You may find them everywhere. Even in the Church.”
Etan bridled a bit, but did his best not to be distracted. Lord Tiamak might have his pagan prejudices but he was a good man who meant well. That was all that mattered. “So, no sign of them to be found, and no sign of where they went. And did any of the other Scrollbearers hear anything from him before he vanished? What about the woman in Perdruin?”
“Lady Faiera. We know nothing for certain, because she disappeared at much the same time, or at least stopped answering letters from other Scrollbearers.”
“Could the disappearances be connected?” Etan asked. “I hope I am not being disrespectful, but is it not possible that Prince Josua and this woman . . . well . . .”
“Ran away together? You may ask any question without fear, Brother. I’m glad you asked that one because of course it occurred to us as well. Eolair and I searched for her. Did I not tell you what we found?”
“No. Unless I missed it in all the other names and such.”
Tiamak smiled. “Possibly so, but more likely I forgot. Eolair and I went to Perdruin to seek her out and see what she could tell us, because Josua had mentioned in one of his last letters that he, himself, had questions for her—important questions, he said.” Tiamak shook his head. “Imagine then, when we discovered that not only was she gone, her house had burned.”
“Burned? How? Was she not a noblewoman?”
“By blood, yes, but not by circumstances. She lived in a house in one of the most crowded parts of Perdruin, in a district called the Cauldron down by the docks in the oldest part of the city. Her house was one of a row, the houses as old and tumbledown as the rest of the district. It looks more like Kwanitupul there t
han it does like Perdruin. Ah, but you have not been to Kwanitupul, either. Well, in any case, a year before we arrived, sometime near Josua’s disappearance, a fire had begun in that row of houses. All those in the middle of the street had been gutted, and several others in adjoining streets had burned as well. Many died, but all that was left behind were charred bones. We do not know if she was there. We do not know if Josua was there.”
“Could that be the end, then? A terrible accident, and the prince and this Lady Faiera killed in a fire?”
“That might be the reason we never saw either of them again, of course. But even so, it does not tell us where Vorzheva went with the children, and that is our true quest.” He patted the monk on the arm. “Where did the children go?”
Etan sat back. He felt quite overwhelmed. “It is a great deal to take in, my lord. Why do you think I will want to undertake such a difficult if not hopeless task, twenty years too late? You said you thought I would agree.”
“Because not only is it an important task to the king and queen—for them it is about loyalty to one’s friends and keeping promises—but it is an opportunity you might never have again. A wonderful opportunity.”
“To look for people twenty years lost?”
The little Wrannaman reached out and squeezed Etan’s hand. “I told you I wanted you to accept this charge of your own free will, Brother, and I meant it. But consider this last, important reason.” Tiamak lowered his voice a little. “You are a man in whom, whether he knows it completely or not, the love of learning runs very deep. What better chance will you ever have to see something of the world than as an envoy of the High Throne, with all the privileges of the position, sent to travel the south in the search for truth? Have you never wanted to see the Sancellan Aedonitis, the seat of your religion? Have you never longed to see the ruins of the ancient cities that once covered the southern islands? And what of Perdruin, whose every breeze is scented with the smell of goods from all over Osten Ard? How could you say no to that opportunity, especially when you know that it would bring you gratitude from the king and queen?”