—Morrighan Book of Holy Text, Vol. V
CHAPTER THREE
KADEN
“So, you thought she’d be useful.”
He knew the true reason. He knew I disdained the gift as much as he did, but his contempt for the gift sprang from lack of belief. I had more compelling reasons.
We sat alone in his private meeting chamber. He leaned back in his chair, his tented hands tapping his lips. His black eyes rested on me like cool, polished onyx, betraying no emotion. They rarely did, but if not anger, I knew at least curiosity lurked behind them. I looked away, gazing instead at the lush fringed carpet beneath us. A new addition.
“A goodwill gift from the Premier of Reux Lau,” he explained.
“Goodwill? It looks expensive. Since when do the Reux Lau bring us gifts?” I asked.
“You thought. Let’s get back to that. Is she that good in—”
“No,” I said, standing up. I walked to the window. Wind hissed through the gaps. “It’s not like that.”
He laughed. “Then tell me how it is.”
I looked back at his table, overflowing with maps, charts, books, and notes. I was the one who had taught him how to read Morrighese, which most of these documents were. Tell me how it is. I wasn’t sure myself. I returned to my chair across from him and explained Lia’s effect on Vendans as hardened as Griz and Finch. “You know how the clans are, and there are plenty of hillfolk who still believe. You can’t walk through the jehendra without seeing a dozen stalls selling talismans. Every other servant here in the Sanctum wears one or another tucked beneath their shirt and probably half the soldiers too. If they think the Vendans have somehow been blessed with one of the gifts of old, one of royal blood even, you might—”
He leaned forward, sweeping papers and maps to the floor with a broad angry stroke of his arm. “Do you take me for a fool? You betrayed an order because the backward few of Venda might take her to be a sign? Have you now appointed yourself Komizar to do what you think to be the wiser move?”
“I just thought—” I closed my eyes briefly. I had already disobeyed his order, and now I was making excuses, just as the Morrighese did. “I hesitated when I went to kill her. I—”
“She caught your fancy, just as I said.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He leaned back in his chair and shook his head, waving his hand as if it was of little matter. “So you succumbed to the charms of a woman. Better that than believing yourself to make better decisions in my stead.” He pushed his chair back and stood, walking over to a tall footed oil lamp in the corner of the room, jagged crystals rimming it like a crown. When he turned the wheel to increase the flame, splinters of light cut across his face. It was a gift from the Tomack quarterlord and didn’t fit the severity of the room. He tugged the short hair of his beard, lost in thought, and then his eyes rested on me once again. “No harm done bringing her here. She’s out of the hands of Morrighan and Dalbreck, which is all that matters. And yes, now that she’s here … I’ll decide the best way to use her. The governors’ hushed surprise at a royal in their midst wasn’t lost on me, nor the whispering of servants when she left.” A half smile played on his lips, and he rubbed at a smudge on the lantern with his sleeve. “Yes, she might prove useful,” he whispered, more to himself than to me, as if warming to the idea.
He turned, remembering I was still in the room.
“Enjoy your pet for now, but don’t get too attached. The brethren of the Sanctum aren’t like the hillfolk. We don’t settle into flabby domestic lives. Remember that. Our brotherhood and Venda always come first. It’s how we survive. Our countrymen are counting on us. We’re their hope.”
“Of course,” I answered. And it was true. Without the Komizar, even without Malich, I’d be dead by now. But don’t get too a
ttached? It was too late for that.
He returned to his desk, shuffling through papers, then stopped to look at a map and smiled. I knew the smile. He had many. When he had smiled at Lia, I’d feared the worst. The one on his face now was genuine, a satisfied smile, meant for no one to see.
“Your plans are going well?”
“Our plans,” he corrected me. “Better than I hoped. I have great things to show you, but it will have to wait. You made it back just in time before I ride out tomorrow. The governors of Balwood and Arleston didn’t show.”
“Dead?”
“Most likely for Balwood. Either the sickness of the north country finally got him or he lost his head to a young usurper too frightened to come to the Sanctum himself.”
My guess was that Hedwin of Balwood had succumbed to a sword in the back. Just as he always boasted, he was too mean for the withering sickness of the north woods to overtake him.
“And Arleston?”
We both knew that Governor Tierny of the southernmost province was probably lying in a drunken stupor in some brothel on the road to the Sanctum and would stroll in with apologies featuring lame horses and bad weather. But his tithe of supplies to the city never wavered. The Komizar shrugged. “Hot-blooded young men can grow weary of well-oiled governors.”
As the Komizar had eleven years ago. I looked at him, still every bit the young man who had slaughtered three governors right before he killed the previous Komizar of Venda. But he wasn’t so hot-blooded anymore. No, now his blood ran cool and steady.