Subtle as a slaughterer’s hammer, he thought. Come now, my lady, you can do better.
Still, I must chide you just a little, dear Pasevalles. It was most kind of you to send that sweet Brother Etan to examine poor John Josua’s books, but I must be honest and say that I had hoped you would do the job yourself, not simply because I trust your eye and your discretion, but because I had selfishly hoped to spend some time in your company.
“Dear Pasevalles,” too. The princess was not bothering to work up to her point slowly. He wondered why she was so determined to make him an ally. Had something happened on the royal trip north, something that Pasevalles himself had not heard, that caused her to worry about her position at court? It was hard to imagine anything that could change her situation. She was the widow of the prince and mother of the heir-apparent. Surely nothing could undo either of those two facts.
To that end, perhaps you and I could put aside an evening after supper when you might lay aside the heavy cares of your high station and come join me for a glass of Comis wine. My ladies will be present, so you need not fear for your reputation or mine.
He could not help smiling at that. She was a sly woman, the princess. Quite different from her bluff, practical father.
There is much I would like to discuss with you, most certainly including the library that will bear my husband’s name and the books of his still in my possession. Perhaps we could meet after the church service St. Dinan’s day. Say you will come.
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.”