The Witchwood Crown

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Brother Etan was clearly still troubled. Tiamak sympathized—it was a great deal to take in all at once. “How did you come to work in the castle?” he asked, pouring them each a cup of wine.

“In the castle? Because Lord Pasevalles asked for me, my lord, and the Archbishop said I might go and help him in the Chancelry.”

Tiamak could not help smiling. “No, in fact, that is not quite how you came to work in the castle. I had been watching you, and when Pasevalles was looking for help I suggested he ask for you. Obviously, he found my suggestion useful. And I have been selfish enough to employ you for a few tasks myself, as you know. But that is not precisely the question that should interest you. Why do you think I noticed you?”

Etan lifted his hands in frustration. “I have no idea, Lord Tiamak, and in truth I am a bit weary answering, because it seems everything I know is wrong.”

“Very good. I like that you stand up for yourself. A man of philosophy must trust his own thoughts, at least enough to follow them and see where they lead. I noticed you because you were ambitious.” He held up his hand. “No, no, I do not mean it in any bad way. You were not seeking fame, or reward. But you have what I would call a restless mind. It is not content to do things the old way simply because that is how they have always been done. You look at a problem as something to be solved, rather than something to be avoided. That is a form of ambition. And you have ideas. That is ambition, too. Do you remember when you told Pasevalles that hanging baskets on a loop of rope would be faster for moving things back and forth between the Treasury and the Chancelry than using messengers?”

“I recall it now that you say it,” said Etan. “But how do you know about it?”

“Because I have made it my business to know about you, Brother. I am interested in people who think for themselves, who value knowledge as knowledge, but also for what good it may do their fellow men.” Tiamak sipped a little of his own wine. “This is not very good, I’m afraid. Neither Lady Thelía nor I drink spirits often, so we never know what to keep on hand for other people.”

Etan waved his hand to show that it did not matter.

“Very well,” Tiamak said. “Listen carefully, because much of what I will tell you now will bear directly on your task—a task, as I should have made clear at the beginning, that you are free to refuse.”

The monk’s look of surprise grew more exaggerated. “I am? I confess, I did not know that.”

“Of course. Unless it were an obvious matter of life or death, I would not send someone away against his will—away from, as you said, his home and his work. But I suspect by the time I’ve finished talking to you here, you will see the benefits of this opportunity and will not hesitate to accept it.”

A certain interest crept into Etan’s face. “Truly? Is that a wager, my lord?”

“Of sorts. Let’s say this—if you do not see the clear advantages to you in taking this task, and ask for it to be given to you, I will apologize and we will never speak of it again. You will bear no stain or discredit for refusing. Is that fair?”

“More than fair.”

“Good. Then listen while I begin with the story of Ealhstan— the Fisher King as many of the people call him—the first true Erkynlandish king. He was also, by the way, King Simon’s ancestor.”

“I have heard something about that.”

“Not much, I wager. The king is oddly ashamed of his own blood—no, not his blood, but the right to rule that was granted him because of it. But that is common to much of what we are going to talk about now—the fact that in some ways, great men and women are just as foolishly complicated as the rest of us.”



“Very well.” Etan added water to his third cup of wine, since he was thirsty but did not want his wits to be muddled. “I will give it back to you such as I understand it.” As the afternoon had stretched on, the parade of names and events had become more than slightly dizzying, despite Lord Tiamak’s patient willingness to explain things over and over. “The League of the Scroll was founded by King Ealhstan here in the Hayholt, to protect and increase knowledge. Over the years there have been many members, usually seven at a time, but in recent years the numbers have dwindled.”

“Not so much dwindled,” Tiamak said. “We never fully replaced the original members who died during the war or . . . well, you know what happened to Pryrates.”

Etan nodded. The red priest was not spoken of by Mother Church in any official way, but men of God were quite willing to tell tales in private when they had the chance, and Pryrates was a demon-figure who still horrified and fascinated. “I understand. But Prince Josua was a Scrollbearer! I never knew that.”

“After the tower fell and the war was over, yes,” Tiamak said. “It seemed like an ideal role for someone like Josua, who had an active, useful mind and, while he cared very much about his father’s kingdom, he did not wish to rule it. The sad part is that we had him in the League only a few years before he disappeared.”

“Leaving his children with their mother . . . what was her name? Vorsava?”

“Vorzheva, daughter of a Thrithings clan-leader. Yes, their twin children, Derra and Deornoth. But whether he disappeared and left his wife alone we really don’t know.”

“Because after Josua’s last letters, nobody heard from any of them.”

“Yes, and later I will show you those letters, because they are the starting point for any search. But don’t misunderstand, Brother. The king and queen did not ignore this matter—Josua was the queen’s uncle. He knighted Simon when the king was only a kitchen boy. They both loved him very much.”

“I understand. Now, forgive me if I have the order wrong, my lord, but Duke Isgrimnur and Count Eolair both made trips south to Kwanitupul to search for them. And you went with them.”

“I went with Eolair, which was the first time we searched for them.” Tiamak smiled. “I had not known the count well before. I am grateful we were able to journey together.”

“But you said you found nothing. The inn that Josua owned had been sold, and the new owners said they did not know where the family had gone. Who sold it? Josua or Vorzheva?”

“The money was paid to a dark-haired woman who might have been Vorzheva,” Tiamak replied. “The price was not high, which suggests that, for whatever reason, she did not want to hold out for a better one.”

“So did Vor-shay-vah go back to her home?” Etan asked, pleased that he could finally wrap his mouth around the unfamiliar name. “You said she was from the High Thrithings.”

“She hated the grasslands, and she hated her father, who was a clan-chief. That is all I know for certain. If she did go back, Eolair could find nobody among the Thrithings-folk who knew anything about it. We did not speak to her father, but someone else did on our behalf, and told us he said that if she had come back with Josua’s children, he would have killed them all.”

“Barbarian monster.”

“Yes, but such men are not limited to the grasslands and the swamps of Osten Ard. You may find them everywhere. Even in the Church.”

Etan bridled a bit, but did his best not to be distracted. Lord Tiamak might have his pagan prejudices but he was a good man who meant well. That was all that mattered. “So, no sign of them to be found, and no sign of where they went. And did any of the other Scrollbearers hear anything from him before he vanished? What about the woman in Perdruin?”

“Lady Faiera. We know nothing for certain, because she disappeared at much the same time, or at least stopped answering letters from other Scrollbearers.”

“Could the disappearances be connected?” Etan asked. “I hope I am not being disrespectful, but is it not possible that Prince Josua and this woman . . . well . . .”

“Ran away together? You may ask any question without fear, Brother. I’m glad you asked that one because of course it occurred to us as well. Eolair and I searched for her. Did I not tell you what we found?”

“No. Unless I missed it in all the other names and such.”

Tiamak smiled. “Possibly so, but more likely I forgot. Eolair and I went to Perdruin to seek her out and see what she could tell us, because Josua had mentioned in one of his last letters that he, himself, had questions for her—important questions, he said.” Tiamak shook his head. “Imagine then, when we discovered that not only was she gone, her house had burned.”

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