By Schism Rent Asunder Page 5

  "Even assuming all of that's true, that doesn't mean they won't try to do exactly what Ahlvyno's just suggested anyway," Gray Harbor pointed out, du­tifully playing the role of Shan-wei's advocate. "They already tried to destroy us, after all, despite all of the dire consequences you're saying they would have faced as a result."

  "I also admitted that they've already done some spectacularly stupid things," Howsmyn reminded the earl. "And they may try to close their ports to us, as well. But if they do, those ports are going to leak like sieves. There are going to be entirely too many people—including quite a few of the vicars' own bailiffs, for that matter—who want and need our goods for it to work. Not even the Church has ever really been able to control smuggling, you know, and trying to do something like that would be much, much harder than chasing a few independent smugglers."

  "You probably have a point, Master Howsmyn," Archbishop Maikel said. "However, I suspect the Group of Four—and especially Grand Inquisitor Clyntahn—are, indeed, likely to make the attempt."

  "I bow to your greater familiarity with the Council of Vicars' thinking, Your Eminence," Howsmyn said. "I stand by my analysis of what will happen if they do, however."

  "Rahnyld of Dohlar's always wanted to increase his own merchant ma­rine," Bynzhamyn Raice, Baron Wave Thunder, pointed out.

  The bald, hook-nosed Wave Thunder had been King Haarahld VII's spy­master. He served Cayleb in the same role, and he seldom spoke up in meet­ings like this unless it had something to do with those duties. When he did open his mouth, though, he was almost always worth listening to, Merlin thought, and this time was no exception. The King of Dohlar was hemmed in on all sides by much more powerful neighbors like the Harchong Empire and Republic of Siddarmark. His chances of territorial expansion were effectively nil, which was why he'd attempted for years to emulate the maritime pros­perity of Charis, instead.

  "That was one of the pretensions which made Rahnyld such an enthusi­astic supporter of the Group of Four's plans, after all," Wave Thunder contin­ued. "Well, that and those loans of his from the Church. Under the circumstances, I'm sure the Church would be willing to forgive even more of his loans and actively subsidize his efforts to build up a merchant fleet big enough to cut into our own carrying trade, and the Church has a lot of money. If the Group of Four decides to make a major commitment to helping him, he could launch a lot of galleons."

  "Unless my memory fails me, Bynzhamyn," Lock Island said, "we're still at war with Dohlar, and likely to remain so for quite some time. Something about our demand for Rahnyld's head, I believe."

  Quite a few of the men around the table chuckled at that observation, Merlin noticed.

  "Until and unless that state of war is terminated," the admiral continued, "any Dohlaran-flagged vessel is a legitimate prize of war. And even if, for some reason, peace should disastrously break out between us and Rahnyld, there've always been problems with piracy in the waters around Howard. I'd be astonished if some of those 'pirates' didn't somehow manage to come into possession of some nice little schooners, possibly even with some of the new guns on board."

  The chuckles were louder this time.

  "We're getting too far ahead of ourselves," Cayleb said. He looked at Howsmyn. "I'm inclined to think your analysis is basically sound, Ehd­wyrd. That doesn't mean things won't change, and we've seen for ourselves over the last two years just how quickly they can change. Still, I think one of the other points you made is almost certainly valid. Navies are expensive, but as long as we have one and our enemies don't, we don't need a huge army to go with it, so at least we can avoid that expense. And under the circumstances, I think we can count on being able to finance the fleet somehow."

  "For now, at least, we can, Your Majesty," Ironhill conceded. "The funds are there for the thirty additional ships Admiral Lock Island has under con­struction at the moment, at any rate. We can't lay down many more than that until we've launched the current vessels to clear the building ways, anyhow. But completing those ships is going to effectively finish the total elimination of the treasury surplus your father and grandfather had managed to build up before the current emergency."

  "I understand." Cayleb nodded.

  "Which, if Your Majesty will pardon me," Lock Island said with greater than usual formality, "brings us to the question of just what we do with the ships we already have while we wait for the new ones."

  "You mean besides keeping a lid on other people's privateers and making certain the Church isn't able to land an overwhelming army to slaughter our people, burn our cities to the ground, and remove all of our heads?" Cayleb inquired mildly.

  "Besides that, of course, Your Majesty."

  "Bryahn, I'm perfectly well aware that you want to exterminate Prince Nahrmahn." There was a slight but unmistakable edge of patient exaspera­tion in Cayleb's tone. "For that matter, I'd rather enjoy the process myself. But the truth is that our own navy consists of less than sixty obsolete galleys and only thirty-four galleons, at least until more of the new construction comes forward and we get the damaged ships back from the repair yards. That's going to leave us stretched dangerously thin if we go after Nahrmahn and Hektor simultaneously."

  "Then let's go after them one at a time," Lock Island argued with respectful stubbornness. "And since Nahrmahn is the closer, and since we're already blockading Eraystor Bay, let's start with him."

  "I think you're entirely right that we need to go after them one at a time," Cayleb replied. "Unfortunately, I also think Hektor is the more dangerous of the two. Unless I miss my guess"—it was his turn to avoid looking in Mer­lin's direction—"he's already laying down and converting as many galleons of his own as he can. And if Black Water's reports on our new artillery got home to him, he's going to know how to arm them effectively, as well. He'll have to start from scratch with the new guns, but I trust no one in this room is foolish enough to think Hektor is stupid or that his artisans and mechanics have been stricken with some sort of mysterious incompetence overnight. Nahrmahn doesn't begin to have Hektor's building capacity and foundries, so if we're going to go after one of them, we need to start with Corisande, not Emerald. And then there's that little matter of the army we don't have. Taking islands away from Nahrmahn and sealing off Eraystor is one thing; finding enough troops to put ashore to take the rest of his princedom away from him is going to be something else, I'm afraid."

  Lock Island looked moderately rebellious, and he wasn't the only one who felt that way, Merlin decided.

  "In Bryahn's support, Your Majesty," Wave Thunder said, "don't forget who it was that tried to have you assassinated." Cayleb looked at him, and the spymaster shrugged. "He tried it before you and your father completely de­stroyed his navy; now that he doesn't have one anymore, there has to be even more pressure to consider . . . unconventional measures. If we give him long enough, he's likely to try it again."

  "Then it's just going to be up to you and the Guard"—this time Cayleb did glance at Merlin—"to see to it that he fails again, Bynzhamyn."

  "That may not be quite as simple a matter as we'd all prefer, Your Majesty. In fact, that's part of what I want to discuss with you later," Arch­bishop Maikel said, and all eyes turned to him. "Before, Nahrmahn was forced to hire mercenaries, professional assassins, if he wanted you or your father dead," the archbishop continued. "Today, alas, there are far more po­tential assassins in Charis than ever before. Indeed, protecting you against Nahrmahn's efforts to murder you may be the least of the Guard's concerns." And that, Merlin thought, is probably an understatement. Unfortunately. The majority of Cayleb's subjects strongly supported their youthful king and his new archbishop in his confrontation with the Church of God Await­ing. They knew precisely what the Church—or, at least, the "Group of Four" which actually created and manipulated the Church's policies—had intended to happen to their kingdom and their families when they chose to break Charis' power once and for all by turning it into a wasteland of slaughtered people and burned towns. They s
upported the scathing indictment Maikel had sent to Grand Vicar Erek in their collective name, for they'd made a clear distinction between God Himself and the corrupt, venal men who controlled the Church.

  But if the majority of Charisians felt that way, a significant minority did not, and almost a quarter of the kingdom's clergy were outraged and furious at Cayleb's "impious" challenge to the Church's "rightful, God-given author­ity." It would have been nice if Merlin had been able to convince himself that all of those people who disapproved were just as corrupt and calculating as the Group of Four themselves. Unfortunately, the overwhelming majority of them weren't. Their horror at the thought of schism within God's Church was completely genuine, and their outrage at the ruler who'd dared to raise his hand against God's will sprang from a deep-seated, totally honest faith in the teachings of the Church of God Awaiting. Many—most—of them saw it as their sacred duty to resist, by any means they could, the abominations King Cayleb and Archbishop Maikel sought to impose upon the kingdom.

  For the first time in living memory, there was an actual, significant, inter­nal threat to the life of a king of Charis, and Staynair's regretful expression showed that the archbishop understood exactly why.

  "I know, Maikel," Cayleb said. "I know. But we can't undo what we've al­ready done, and even if I thought it was 'what God wanted, we couldn't turn back from the journey we've begun. Which doesn't mean"—he looked back at Wave Thunder—"that I want any mass arrests. I've never been very fond of iron heels, and I can't convince people who hate and fear what they think I'm doing that they're wrong about my policies or the reasons for them if I start right out trying to crush every voice of disagreement."

  "I've never suggested that we ought to, Your Highness. I only—"

  "His Majesty is right, My Lord," Staynair said quietly, and Wave Thun­der looked at him.

  "It's the question of conscience, of the relationship between each individ­ual human soul and God, which stands at the heart of the Group of Four's hostility towards us," the archbishop continued in that same firm, quiet voice. "Trynair and Clyntahn, each for reasons of his own, are determined to pre­serve Mother Church's total control over the thoughts, beliefs, and actions of all of God's children. They've seen fit to dress their ambition in the fine clothes of faith and concern for the salvation of souls, to pretend they're mo­tivated only by priestly duty, and not the obscene wealth and decadent lives they live, when, in fact, their own arrogance and corruption have turned Mother Church herself into a tool of oppression and greed.

  "We know that." He looked around the suddenly quiet council chamber. "We've seen it. And we believe we're called by God to oppose that oppression. To remind Mother Church that it's the souls of God's people which matter, and not the amount of gold in her coffers, or the personal power and wealth of her vicars and the luxury in which they live. But to do that successfully, we must remind all of Mother Church's children of those same things. We can­not do that by resorting to oppression ourselves."

  "With all due respect, Your Eminence," Wave Thunder said into the still­ness which seemed only deeper and quieter as thunder rumbled and rolled once more in the distance, "I don't disagree. But, by the same token, we can't protect the King if we're not willing to act strongly and publicly against those who would destroy him. And if we lose the King, we lose everything." Cayleb stirred, but Wave Thunder faced him stubbornly. "At this moment, Your Majesty, that's true, and you know it. We've al­ready lost your father, and Zhan is still a child. If we lose you, who holds the Kingdom together? And if this Kingdom stumbles, who will be left to 're­mind' Mother Church of anything? Right now, on this day, any hope of hu­man freedom dies with you, Your Majesty. For now, at least, that statement is the terrifying truth. And it's also the reason you must let us take the necessary precautions to keep you alive."

  Cayleb looked around the table, and stark agreement with Wave Thun­der looked back at him from every face. Even the archbishop nodded in grave acknowledgment of the baron's point.

  "I will, Bynzhamyn," Cayleb replied, after a moment. He glanced at Merlin again, then back at Wave Thunder.

  "I will," he repeated, "and anyone who actually lends himself to treason against the Crown, to violence against the Crown's ministers, or against any of the Kingdom's subjects, will be dealt with sternly, regardless of the reasons for his actions. But there will be no preemptive arrests because of what men might do, and no one will be punished unless their conspiracies or their crimes are first proven before the King's Bench in open court. No secret courts, no summary imprisonments or executions. I refuse to become another Clyn­tahn simply to protect myself against him."

  Wave Thunder's expression was a long way from anything Merlin would have called satisfied, but at least the baron let the argument drop. For now, at any rate.

  "All right," Cayleb said more briskly. "I still hear lunch calling, and it's getting louder, so let's go ahead and wrap this up. Ahlvyno, please give me a report by the end of this five-day on the exact state of the Treasury, allowing for the completion and manning of the galleons we currently have under construction. Take Ehdwyrd at his word and propose a reasonable schedule of new duties and taxes, as well, based on the assumption that our trade will at least hold level. Bryahn, I'd like you and Baron Seamount to give me your best estimates of what we're going to need Ahlvyno to somehow figure out how to pay for after we finish the present building program. You'd better get Sir Dustyn involved in that, as well. Ehdwyrd, I'd like you and Rhaiyan to give some additional thought to what you were saying earlier about the likely consequences of any effort by the Group of Four to close Haven and Howard to our trade. Assume they're actually going to do it, then come up with the most effective ways for us to undermine any embargo and make sure their ef­forts don't succeed. You might also consider how we could motivate our merchants and shipping houses to fund presentation galleons for the Navy, as well. As you say, our survival depends upon their prosperity, but their pros­perity depends upon our survival. I think it's fair for them to contribute a lit­tle more to protecting their shipping than we might expect out of, say, a dragon-breeder from somewhere back in the hills. And, Rayjhis, I think you'd better check with Dr. Mahklyn. I'd like the College's input on some of our estimates on shipping, trade, and taxation, as well."

  Heads nodded around the table, and Cayleb nodded back.

  "In that case, I think we're mostly done here. Rayjhis, I'd like you and Archbishop Maikel to remain behind for a moment, if you would."

  "Of course, Your Majesty," Gray Harbor murmured, and chairs moved back from the table as the others took their cue and rose.

  * * * *

  The council chamber door closed behind the others, and Cayleb looked at Merlin.

  "Why don't you come over and join us, now that it's safe?" he asked with a smile, and Gray Harbor chuckled.

  "As you command, Your Majesty," Merlin replied mildly, and crossed to settle himself into the chair Howsmyn had occupied a few minutes before.

  Had anyone else been present, that hypothetical other observer probably would have been more than a bit surprised to see King Cayleb's bodyguard sitting at the council table along with the king's two most trusted official ad­visers as if he were their equal in the king's eyes. After all, it was clearly Cap­tain Athrawes' responsibility to keep Cayleb alive, and not—despite his recent promotion, in keeping with his position as the king's personal armsman—to advise him on high matters of state.

  Of course, that same hypothetical other observer would be operating on the mistaken assumption that Captain Merlin Athrawes of the Charisian Royal Guard was alive. Well, that he was a human being, at least. He might actually be alive after all; Merlin's internal jury was still out on that particular question.

  Not even Gray Harbor and Staynair knew the complete truth about him. For that matter, Cayleb himself didn't know the complete truth. The king knew Merlin was considerably more than human, but not that he was in fact a PICA—a Personality Integrated Cybernetic
Avatar—whose artificial body was home to the electronically recorded personality, memories, emotions, hopes, and fears of a young woman named Nimue Alban who had been dead for the last eight or nine centuries.

  But what Gray Harbor and Staynair did know, and what they, along with Cayleb and the handful of others who shared the same knowledge, went to great lengths to keep anyone else from discovering was how central Captain Athrawes' "visions" and bits and pieces of esoteric knowledge had been to Charis' ability to survive the Group of Four's massive onslaught. Everyone in the kingdom knew Merlin was a seijin, of course—one of the deadly warrior-monk martial artists and sometime spiritual visionaries who came and went (usually apocryphally) through the pages of Safeholdian history. Merlin had chosen that particular persona carefully before he ever arrived in Charis, and his reputation as one of the deadliest warriors in the world (although, to be strictly accurate, he wasn't simply one of the deadliest warriors in the world, given his . . . abilities) made him the perfect choice for Cayleb's personal armsman. Which just happened to put him permanently at the king's elbow, deep at the heart of all of Cayleb's councils and plans, and yet simultaneously made him almost a piece of the furniture. Constantly available for advice or consultation, yet so invisible to outside eyes that no one ever wondered just what he was doing there.

  Now Cayleb looked at him and arched an eyebrow. "What did you think of Ehdwyrd's analysis?" he asked.

  "I think I'm not equipped to argue with him in that particular area of expertise," Merlin replied. "I doubt anyone in the entire Kingdom is, at least until Mahklyn's passion for recording numbers gives us an objective base of statistics. I'd have to agree with him, though, that it would be extraordinarily difficult for the Group of Four to effectively close Howard and Haven to our merchants. How successful their efforts would be in the end if they decided to try anyway, and whether or not Baron Wave Thunder's concerns about subsidies to Rahnyld are realistic, is more than I'm prepared to say, however."