Tollan sighed, and Wince knew that his friend already knew all of this, but Gemma ignored him and went on. “Yigris had traded away nearly all of its land and mines just to get the Vagans to leave. Above was strapped for gold and Jenn saw Olyn and her Under as his ticket back to prosperity. Olyn, however, saw the pact as her ticket to freedom. She’d gone from feeling like a pretty backdrop who didn’t even have the right to choose who she married in House Daghan, to the leader of a powerful criminal underworld nearly overnight. She was smart and brutal, and while Jenn believed that he’d found a way to control both the nobles and the thieves, Olyn had other plans.”
Ever since Wince had snuck a copy of the secret pact away from Tollan’s tutor, they had talked about the pact and what it meant for Above, but Wince had never really thought about the leaders of Under. The idea that Olyn had thought she’d gotten the better of the deal was foreign and strange to him, and he turned his gaze to Tollan, wondering how the king would take that information.
Gemma went on: “It didn’t take long for Olyn to realize that the church would be a problem. The pact was perfect in the way that it divided power and kept both the legitimate and the criminal elements loyal to what was left of House Daghan, but that would do little good if the church stood against them. There is only one thing people fear more than their king, and that is the goddess.
“But Olyn also knew that the greater part of the priests and prayer keepers were lecherous, money-starved miscreants. So she figured why not bring them into her fold? She infiltrated the Slit, learned of their underground dealings and used it for her own benefit.”
Wince looked around at the splendor of the Dalinn’s room. The sex priests were obviously taken very good care of, and the few glimpses around the Slit had told him that the Holy Aegosian Church had far more wealth than he had ever imagined.
“Olyn took the seedier leanings of the church and bent them to her will. Nobody outside the church—and I mean nobody living except for you, me, Wince and a couple of top members of the Guild—knows that the Yigrisian temple of the Holy Aegosian Church became a branch of the Shadow Guild four years after the pact was signed. They have their own leadership, their own bylaws and they handle all of their own conflicts internally, but they answer to the Queen of Under.” Gemma finished with a sigh as she met Tollan’s steely gaze.
Tollan bristled. “And why exactly would they answer to the Under rather than the Above?”
Gemma smiled. “Because Olyn had them by the balls, and because she was way too smart to tell her brother. Once the pact was signed, the income made by the Guild by paramours, assassination-for-hire and bloodwork was taxed by the king and overseen by the king. That was all part of the benefit of signing the pact in the first place. If the church refused Olyn, she vowed that she would report their less-than-sacred activities to her brother, thus putting them under his control. If they agreed to Olyn’s compromise, then at least they maintained the illusion of autonomy, and they were protected anonymously under the parasol of the Guild.”
Tollan’s nostrils flared, but he said nothing. Wince knew his friend well enough to know that a slow, simmering rage was boiling beneath his surface. Wince could see the telltale twitch in Tollan’s right eyelid and the twist of his mouth in distaste. He should diffuse the situation, but he was in so much shock over what Gemma was telling them that he let the moment pass.
Gemma continued. “Olyn was the true intellect behind the pact, and she manipulated her brother into wording it so she maintained control of the Under. She knew the pact wouldn’t stand a chance of succeeding if the church maintained its self-government, and her newly found freedom would disappear as well. She made it work—and for five generations, it has. I know that’s a lot to take in, but …”
Tollan moved toward Gemma. He shook with rage, and for an instant Wince thought the King of Above might strike the Queen of Under. She put her hand on the hilt of her dagger. They were of equal height, but for a moment, she seemed dwarfed by him.
“A lot to take in?” Tollan growled. “All of Yigris thinks I’ve killed my father and perhaps Melnora, too. I’ve been in two whorehouses today—one of which is a prickling church. I’ve been dragged through Under, which appears to be collapsing, while Above is supposedly consumed by burning bushes. And now I find out the king doesn’t wield much power anyway. Even the church is controlled by the Under!” He balled his fists at his sides.
Wince’s heart pounded in his chest. Tollan was right, but a fight with the Queen of Under seemed like a good way to meet a blade.
Tollan seemed to come to the same conclusion, because his shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That was ungentlemanly of me.”
“You’re damned right it was,” Gemma replied, smiling brightly. “It’s about time you started thinking like a rogue. It’s the only prickling way you’re going to survive this!”
After Gemma and Wince explained their discovery of the tainted mage mark on his back and their conclusions about a potential mage uprising, Wince could see the panic growing behind Tollan’s eyes. Pacing, Gemma continued. “How could this happen? What made the mage women suddenly choose to act against you? Was it just your father’s death? Did they see this as their opportunity to start trouble? They’ve been alone in the castle for so long …”
A deep, painful sigh pushed its way out of Tollan. “But they aren’t alone, anymore. My brother married a Vagan princess, Elsha, a few months ago. I was gone when it happened,” Tollan said, his voice little more than a whisper.
And suddenly, it was Wince’s turn to panic. He didn’t want to hear this story, didn’t want to relive what couldn’t be relived. Heart pounding, he said, “No, it’s not your …”
But Tollan pushed forward, his shoulders slumped and his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Wince and I grew up with a friend—a noble girl named Uri. A while back, Uri got into some trouble with a common-born boy who worked in the stables. She had this mare she doted on, and she spent a lot of time there. This stableboy took care of her horse—the one thing she loved most in all the world—so she loved him for it. And one thing led to another. She got pregnant.”
Wince could barely believe what he was hearing. Was it possible that Tollan really didn’t know the whole truth?
Tollan turned his back to them, his words heavy with guilt. “Uri came to me, hysterical. We were really good friends—and she was sobbing that her parents would disown her, that she’d lose everything. I thought I was helping. I told her to tell her parents that the baby was mine.”
“Oh,” Gemma said as if she’d been gut punched. She couldn’t know exactly what had happened—but she was a smart girl. Wince was sure she could imagine.
Tollan squared his shoulders and turned to face her. “My father was livid—as angry as I’ve ever seen him. He said that under no circumstances could I acknowledge the child; that Uri and her family would be sent away so that no one would notice the resemblance. He said that I ought to have known how to keep the useless girl from getting with child if I wanted to climb on top of her, and that he wouldn’t let House Daghan be saddled with my indiscretions. Then he sent me to sea on his private merchant vessel to give me time to calm down, as he put it.”
Wince felt bile rise in his throat. The weight of his own grief was as vast as the Hadriak. He didn’t want to hear about Tollan’s pain. He didn’t want to feel responsible for that, too.
“After that,” Tollan went on, despite Wince’s silent pleas for him to stop. “I couldn’t tell him the truth—it would have ruined Uri even more than the lie.” He met Gemma’s gaze. “I was at sea for four months, but three days after I set sail, Uri hanged herself in the stables. I was a prickling coward and my friend died because of me. Her family thinks I abandoned her, but I …” He trailed off.
Wince gagged on a sob, his throat squeezed tight by the tears he had refused to shed for her—for them.