“Of course, Your Holiness,” Coris replied.
He was confident Trynair would assume—accurately—that he recognized that business about Grand Vicar Erek as pure fiction. Trynair had hand- selected the current Grand Vicar from a short list of suitable puppets years ago, and if Erek had ever cherished a single in de pen dent thought since assuming the Grand Vicar’s throne, that thought had undoubtedly perished of loneliness long since.
“In many ways,” Trynair continued, “that change will represent little more than a technicality. As I suggested earlier, there’s no need to further destabilize young Daivyn’s life at this time. Better to leave him where he is, under the care of someone he trusts and knows is looking out for his best interests.”
Especially if the someone he trusts is looking out for the interests of the Church—or of the Group of Four, at least—instead,Coris thought.
“And, to be frank, My Lord,” Clyntahn said, “we’re of the opinion that it won’t hurt a bit to have a man with your particular set of skills and experiences watching over him.” Coris looked at him, and the Grand Inquisitor shrugged his beefy shoulders. “After all, Cayleb’s already murdered the boy’s father. There’s no telling when someone like him—or that bitch Sharleyan—might decide the time’s come to make a clean sweep of the entire House of Daykyn. I understand they’re confronting considerable popular unrest in Corisande. They might just come to the conclusion that it would be a good idea to remove young Daivyn as a potential focus for the more restive elements of the Prince-dom’s population.”
“I see, Your Holiness.” Coris prayed that the icicle which had just danced down his spine wasn’t apparent to either of the vicars. “Obviously, I discussed Prince Daivyn’s security with King Zhames before I left Talkyra. As you say, I don’t think we could be too careful where his safety is concerned. And I assure you that once I return to Delferahk, I’ll exercise personal oversight of his security arrangements.”
“Good!” Clyntahn smiled broadly. “I feel confident our decision to rely upon you and your judgment will prove well placed, My Lord.”
“As do I,” Trynair seconded. “In the meantime, however, we have several other points to discuss,” the Chancellor went on. “I’m sure it will take us several sessions to cover all of them, and you will, of course, remain the Temple’s honored guest until we’ve completed them. For the moment, what we’d really like to do, though, is to pick your brain a little bit. Obviously, we’ve had many reports about the situation in Corisande and the attitude of the Corisandian people, but you’re a Corisandian yourself. And one who was extremely well placed to see the consequences of Cayleb’s invasion from Corisande’s viewpoint. No doubt there have been many changes since your own departure from the Princedom, but you still represent a priceless resource from our perspective. There are many points on which we would greatly appreciate hearing anything you can tell us. For example, which of Prince Hektor’s—I mean Prince Daivyn’s, now—nobles do you think would be most likely to organize effective resistance against the Charisian occupation?”
Well, I can seethis is going to take some time, Coris thought dryly. Still, best to be careful about how we proceed, especially when we don’t know how much information they’ve already got.
“That’s a complicated question, Your Holiness,” he began. “I can think of at least a dozen of Prince Hektor’s closer allies among the Corisandian Lords who are almost certainly thinking in those directions. Without a better feel than I have at this time—please do recall that I’ve been traveling for the better part of four months, which has prevented me from setting up any sort of proper network—I would suspect those farther from Manchyr would be in a better position to act upon such thoughts, however.
“Bearing that in mind, I’d be inclined to think the Earl of Storm Keep and the Earl of Craggy Hill have probably already begun to take steps along exactly those lines. Neither of them are going to feel particularly well disposed towards Cayleb and Sharleyan, and both are located well up to the north, out of easy reach from the capital.
“Moving back to the south, and west,” he continued, “I wouldn’t be dreadfully surprised to find Duke Black Water—that would be Sir Adulfo, the new Earl—is headed in the same direction. For that matter, the Duke of Barcair is probably similarly inclined, and—”
“So, Master Seablanket. I see you’ve succeeded admirably in your assignment once again.”
“I’ve certainly attempted to, Your Eminence.”
Rhobair Seablanket bowed over Archbishop Wyllym Rayno’s hand, kissing the proffered ring, then straightened. His expression was politely attentive, waiting for Rayno’s questions to begin, and the archbishop smiled very slightly.
Rayno was short, dark, and slender. As always, he wore the habit of a simple monk in the Order of Schueler’s dark purple. But that habit bore the flame- crowned sword of the Schuelerite Adjutant General, which made him Vicar Zhaspahr Clyntahn’s second- in- command and a very dangerous man, in- deed. He was always a bit amused by the way the Inquisition’s various agents reacted to him. More to the point, he’d learned over the years that those reactions offered a valuable yardstick for evaluating an agent’s capabilities. Take Seablanket, for example. No one who’d risen as high in the Inquisition’s ser vice as he had was going to be foolish enough to take the adjutant general lightly, nor could he be unaware of the potential consequences of disappointing him, yet the Corisandian’s eyes met Rayno’s levelly, and his composure appeared genuine.
Maybe he really is as calm as he looks, the archbishop thought. And maybe he isn’t. I wonder which it is? If he’s really that comfortable meeting me for a face- to- face interview for the very first time, he could be more foolish than I’d expected. No one’s c onscience is so clear that they shouldn’t feel at least a little anxiety under these circumstances. On the other hand, if he’s able to appear this comfortable under those same circumstances, then his ability to dissemble is even greater than his file indicates. And in that case, I’m sure I can find profitable employment for an agent of his caliber elsewhere once he’s no longer needed to keep an eye on Coris.
“I’ve read your reports,” Rayno continued out loud. “I must say that, compared to some of the accounts which cross my desk, yours have been clear, concise, and comprehensive. And the grammar’s actually been correct!”
His whimsical smile didn’t touch his eyes, and Seablanket managed to restrain any unseemly temptation to laughter.
“From those reports,” Rayno continued, “it would appear Earl Coris is both aware of the political realities of Prince Daivyn’s position and also... pragmatic enough, shall we say, to be aware of how those realities might impinge upon his own future. At the same time, he seems to be even more competent than I’d anticipated. I suppose I really shouldn’t be too terribly surprised by that, given how long he held his position under Prince Hektor. However, I have several specific questions I’d like to address, and I’ve discovered over the years that even the best written reports are sometimes . . . incomplete.”
Seablanket stirred slightly, and Rayno raised his right hand in a gentle, fluttering gesture.
“I’m not suggesting anything was intentionally omitted, Master Seablanket. I have seen that happen on occasion, of course,” he smiled again, thinly, “but what I really meant was that written reports are no substitute for oral reports in which questions can be asked, individual points can be more fully explained, and I can be certain I’ve actually understood what you meant to say the first time.”
He paused, head cocked slightly, expression expectant, and Seablanket nodded.
“I take your meaning, Your Eminence. And, obviously, if you have any questions or any points you’d like more thoroughly gone into, I’m at your ser -vice. I would, though, point out that the Earl will be expecting to find me in his chambers when he returns from his interview with Vicar Zahmsyn and Vicar Zhaspahr.”
“An excellent point to bear in mind,” Rayno agreed. “On the other hand
, the Chancellor and the Grand Inquisitor are going to be picking his brain about Corisande’s internal politics for quite some time. I estimate that the process will take at least two or three hours, and to be frank, Master Seablanket, as important as this is in many ways, I’m afraid I don’t have two or three hours to devote to it this morning.”
“Of course, Your Eminence,” Seablanket murmured with a small bow. Rayno nodded, satisfied the Corisandian had taken the point. It never hurt to encourage brevity and concision in an agent’s report.
“In that case, Master Seablanket, let us begin.” Rayno settled into the comfortable chair behind his desk without offering Seablanket a seat. He tipped back, resting his elbows on the chair arms, and steepled his fingers across his chest. “First,” he said, “your reports indicate Prince Daivyn seems to trust Coris implicitly. Would you care to expand briefly on why you think that?”
“Your Eminence, the Prince is a very little boy at the moment,” Seablanket responded without hesitation. “He knows his father is dead and that his own life would be in danger if Charisian assassins could reach him.”
The agent’s eyes met Rayno’s again, and the archbishop’s respect for the other man inched up another notch. Obviously, Seablanket had his own suspicions about who’d actually been behind Hektor’s assassination. Equally obviously, he had no intention of ever voicing those suspicions aloud. Yet he was also smart enough to know what Rayno was truly interested in discovering.
“Under those circumstances, and given the fact that he’s known the Earl for his entire life—not to mention the fact that he knows his father specifically named the Earl as his legal guardian—it’s hardly surprising Daivyn should trust the man. And, frankly, the Earl’s done everything he could to encourage that trust.” Seablanket smiled ever so slightly. “He was Prince Hektor’s spymaster for years, Your Eminence. Convincing a little boy to view him as his best friend, as well as his protector, is child’s play after something like that.”
“So it’s your opinion Coris is deliberately encouraging the boy’s de pen -den cy on him?”
“I wouldn’t actually put it precisely that way, Your Eminence.” Seablanket pursed his lips slightly, eyes narrowed in thought as he searched for exactly the words he wanted.
“He doesn’t have to encourage the Prince’s de pen den cy on him,” the agent went on after a moment. “It’s already clear to everyone, including Daivyn and Princess Irys, that both of them are completely dependent on him. King Zhames may be their official protector, but to be perfectly honest, I doubt His Majesty is even half as smart as Earl Coris.” Seablanket shrugged. “It’s only a matter of time before the Earl has the entire court at Talkyra dancing to his tune, whoever may officially be in charge. So it’s not so much a case of his encouraging Daivyn’s de pen den cy as much as it is encouraging Daivyn’s trust. Of getting the boy to regard him as not simply his primary adviser but as his only adviser. I’m sure at least some of it is for the Prince’s own good,” Seablanket smiled piously, “but the upshot is that when the time comes for the Earl to ‘recommend’ a course of action to Prince Daivyn, the boy isn’t going to hesitate for a moment. And he’s going to take the Earl’s advice regardless of what anyone else, even his sister, might have to say about it.”
“So you believe Coris is going to be in a position to control the boy?”
“I believe he’ll be in a position to control the boy’s decisions, Your Eminence. At the moment, King Zhames controls the boy’s physical security.” Seablanket met the archbishop’s eye again. “If His Majesty should decide for some reason that it might be . . . advantageous for Prince Daivyn to fall into someone else’s hands, I doubt the Earl would be in a position to prevent it.”
“And do you believe there is some danger of King Zhames making such a decision?” Rayno’s eyes had narrowed, and Seablanket shrugged.
“Your Eminence, I’m not in King Zhames’ ser vice, and my insight where he’s concerned is far more limited than anything I might be able to tell you about the Earl. I’m not attempting to suggest His Majesty has any plans at all for Prince Daivyn—other than any he may have already discussed with you and the Grand Inquisitor, of course—but it’s no secret in Talkyra that he’s under a great deal of pressure at the moment. The Charisian Navy has completely wiped out his merchant marine, and Charisian raiding parties are operating freely all along his coasts. His army isn’t being any more successful at stopping them ashore than his navy’s been at stopping them at sea, either. Under those circumstances, who can say how he might eventually be tempted to play a card like Prince Daivyn?”
Rayno nodded slowly. That was an excellent point, and the fact that Seablanket had made it was another indication of the man’s intelligence and general capability. And his suggestion that Zhames might not be the most reliable of guardians . . . that might be distressingly well taken, given what had already happened with certain other rulers (Prince Nahrmahn of Emerald came rather forcibly to mind) who’d found themselves in Cayleb of Charis’ path. Still . . .“I don’t think we need concern ourselves too deeply with King Zhames at the moment,” he observed, half to Seablanket and half simply thinking out loud. “I doubt very much that he’s likely to disregard any directives from the Temple where Daivyn is concerned.”
“I’m certain he wouldn’t, Your Eminence,” Seablanket agreed, yet there was something about his tone, a slight edge of... something. Rayno cocked his head, frowning, and then his own eyes widened. Could the Corisandian be suggesting—?
“Naturally,” the archbishop said, “we have to be at least a bit concerned about Daivyn’s current security. After all, his father’s security in Manchyr seemed quite adequate. And I suppose we really ought to be thinking in terms of multiple layers of protection for the boy. It’s sadly true that human nature is easily corrupted, and the possibility always exists that someone responsible for protecting him might be suborned by those more interested in harming him. Or in... transferring him to someone else’s custody, shall we say.”
“Exactly so, Your Eminence.” Seablanket bowed once more. “And, if I may be so bold, it couldn’t hurt to be doubly certain the man in charge of the Prince’s security sees his own first and primary loyalty as belonging to Mother Church.”
Rayno’s eyes narrowed again, this time with more than a little surprise. Seablanket hadn’t been chosen for his present assignment solely because he was a Corisandian who could be placed in Yu- Shai in time to be hired as Coris’ valet. He’d handled more than one politically sensitive mission for the Inquisition over the years, but the archbishop hadn’t expected him to be quite so willing to bring up that particular point.
“And do you believe Coris’ ‘first and primary loyalty’ is to Mother Church?” the adjutant general asked softly.
“I believe the Earl’s first and primary loyalty was to Prince Hektor,” Seablanket replied with the air of a man choosing his words very carefully. “I’m not prepared to speculate on how much of that loyalty might have been owed to his own ambition and the power he enjoyed as one of Prince Hektor’s closest advisers, but I believe it was genuine. Prince Hektor is dead now, however, Your Eminence, and the Earl’s lands in Corisande have been seized by Cayleb and Sharleyan. He’s a man accustomed to wielding power, and that’s been taken away from him with the fall of Corisande and his own exile. He’s not foolish enough to believe Cayleb or Sharleyan would ever trust anyone who was as close to Hektor as he was, so even if he were tempted to try to reach some sort of an arrangement with them—and I don’t believe for a moment that he is—he’d know the effort was probably pointless, at best. At worst, Cayleb might happily agree to give him what ever he asked for... until, at the least, he could get the Earl within reach.
“More than that, Your Eminence, it seems apparent to me that the Earl recognizes that, ultimately, Charis can’t possibly win. I don’t think he’s likely to be very tempted to sell his allegiance to the side which is bound to lose in the end. That being the case, I can’t e
scape the feeling that worldly ambition—in addition to spiritual loyalty—would incline him towards casting his lot with Mother Church. And he’s a very pragmatic man.” Seablanket shrugged very slightly. “I’m sure that as Hektor’s spymaster he came to realize long ago that sometimes certain... practical accommodations have to be made.”
“I see.”
Rayno considered Seablanket’s words for several seconds. He’d been a bit concerned himself, from time to time, about the possibility of Coris’ seeking some arrangement with Cayleb. After all, the earl was in a position to deliver Prince Daivyn to Charis, and Cayleb—and Sharleyan, damn her soul—had to be aware of how valuable a counter Daivyn had become. On the other hand, any attempt to hand the youthful prince over to Charis would be fraught with difficulty and danger, and Coris couldn’t possibly be unaware of what Mother Church would do to him if he made such an attempt and failed.
Yet Rayno hadn’t fully considered the other two points Seablanket had just raised. It truly was unlikely Cayleb, and especially Sharleyan, would ever repose an ounce of trust in the Earl of Coris. For one thing, Sharleyan was never going to forget that Coris had been Hektor’s spymaster when her father was killed—that it was Coris who’d actually arranged to hire the mercenary “pirates” responsible for King Sailys’ death. And even leaving that consideration aside, there was Seablanket’s assessment of Coris’ estimate of who was ultimately going to win this war. Unless something happened to catastrophically shift the balance of power between the two sides, Charis couldn’t possibly win against Mother Church. It was conceivable, little though Rayno liked to admit it, that an in de pen dent Charis might survive Mother Church’s ire, but nothing short of divine intervention could create circumstances under which Charis could actually defeat the Church and its effectively limitless resources. From everything he’d ever seen or heard about the Earl of Coris, the man was certainly smart enough to have reached the conclusions Seablanket had just ascribed to him. And a man who’d lost everything he’d spent his life building had to be thinking in terms of restoring at least a little of what had been taken from him.