In the Ruins (Crown of Stars 6)

Every day, therefore, when the last of the petitioners had been heard, when all were gathered in the hall to gain her blessing before setting out on their journeys back to their own lands, when Queen Adelheid arrived from her own audience chamber to share a final benediction and prayer, a statement was read out. Antonia had compiled it herself from such writings as had been rescued from the skopal palace in Darre and from her own understanding of necessity and truth. The assembly would hear, and they would carry news of it back to their homes.

The skopos can be judged by no one;

The Dariyan church has never erred and never will err until the end of time;

The Dariyan church was founded by the blessed Daisan alone;

St. Thecla the Witnesser was the first skopos;

The skopos alone can depose and restore biscops;

She alone can call councils and authorize holy law;

She alone can revise her judgments;

She alone can depose emperors;

She alone can absolve subjects from their allegiance;

All princes and noble vassals must kiss her feet;

Her legates, however humble, have precedence over all biscops;

An appeal to the skopal court supersedes any other legal appeal;

The skopos is undoubtedly made a saint by the merits of St. Thecla.

Every day Adelheid, queen and empress, bent her head and listened in apparent humility. Like Antonia, she knew they had nothing but God’s authority on which to rebuild what had been lost. Therefore, God would succor them, and they would do what was right by God. Wicked folk would hate Antonia for her fidelity to God, but she knew that the Lord and Lady had brought her to this position because They wished all those who stood in the Circle of Unity to obey her. St. Thecla had risked all to witness. Antonia could do no less.

“There will be more tomorrow,” said Adelheid when the audience hall had cleared and they sat in a pleasant silence with only the scratching of pens and the gossiping of Adelheid’s servants to distract them. Lamps were lit. Lady Lavinia excused herself to attend to four relatives, one a holy presbyter, who needed to be settled in before the evening’s feast.

“There will always be more, Your Majesty.” Antonia admired her clerics as they worked industriously on codicils, grants, and letters. “As we govern wisely, our influence increases.”

“Yes. More come every week.”

“They fear the Enemy. Therefore, they come to us for rescue. Soon we go in to supper, Your Majesty. It is necessary we discuss Duke Conrad’s daughter and the Eagle. The girl is a sorcerer, trained by her grandmother. She is dangerous.”

“Because she is a sorcerer, or because she is not loyal to us?”

“I recommend you kill her at once. Be certain to strike when she least expects it, or while she sleeps. She may have weapons at her disposal that will make her difficult to kill.”

Adelheid regarded her in silence. One by one, lamps were lit in the hall, casting shadow and light according to God’s will: skopos and empress in pools of light, and the rest in the growing shadows each depending on their nature.

“What of the Eagle? Henry never trusted him.”

“Kill him, too, if you wish it, but he may yet be of use to you. He knows the secrets of Anne’s power. He knew her longer than anyone. He has power of his own that I do not yet understand.”

“Where have they come from? Why are they here? Is it not important we learn these things?”

“I have possession of her story. Anne is dead.”

“How can the girl know this for certain? Where did they come from?”

“From the deserts of Saïs. I will tell you the whole later, after we have eaten.”

“How could they have crossed the Middle Sea when such monstrous waves destroyed every shoreline?”

“How and where they crossed I do not know. Only the Eagle can tell us that tale.”