A Mighty Fortress (81 page)

And now that we’re here,
Cahnyr thought, picking his way cautiously through the blackness,
I still don’t know how I’m supposed to walk into the posting house and make contact. It’s not exactly as if I’m the least well known man in Glacier-heart! I can always
hope
no one will recognize me this far from Tairys, but somehow I think
counting
on it might not be the smartest thing I could possibly do. So how do I discreetly
—

His thoughts chopped off, and he froze as his dark- accustomed eyes suddenly widened. Light! There was
light
ahead, and—

“Actually, Your Eminence,” a voice said from ahead of him, “I rather expected you
last
night.”

Cahnyr’s eyes went wider than ever. It couldn’t be!
“Gharth?!”
he heard his own voice say hoarsely. “Well,” his secretary said, emerging around the bend in the tunnel with his own bull’s-eye lantern and smiling broadly, “having me involved
did
make delivering that letter a bit easier, now didn’t it, Your Eminence?”

“You’re mad, Gharth,” Zhasyn Cahnyr said with soft, firm emphasis several minutes later. “God knows I’ve spent
years
keeping you clear of all this! And you’re a father—and Sahmantha’s
pregnant,
for Pasquale’s sake!”

“Yes,” Gharth Gorjah agreed with a remarkably calm nod. “Clyntahn’s timing on all of this could have been much more considerate, don’t you think?” He gave his superior a decidedly stern look, his youthful face older in the lantern’s shadows. “And if you truly thought you’d managed to keep me ignorant of your activities all this time, Your Eminence, I can only say I am astonished that such an inept conspirator managed to get away with it this long.”

“But—” Cahnyr began. “Your Eminence, we can argue about this as long as you want,” Gorjah interrupted, “but I really think we ought to get underway while we do it. Unless you want to turn around, climb all the way back up through that mountain, and simply forget about it. I wouldn’t recommend that, though. I’m pretty sure that offal- lizard Teagmahn expects orders to arrest you any day now.”

Cahnyr closed his mouth, and Gorjah reached out to touch his arm gently. “Your Eminence, you didn’t recruit me. What ever I’m doing, I’m doing because I choose to do it, and Sahmantha had a pretty fair idea of how I think, what I believe in, before I ever asked her to marry me. I haven’t done anything without consulting with her, and she’s supported me every step of the way. Trust me, she agrees with you about Clyntahn’s timing, and I’m not saying she’s not—that we both aren’t—scared to our marrow thinking about what could happen to us and, especially, to the kids. But it’s not as if we never saw this coming, either.”

“But what is it you
are
doing, Gharth?” Cahnyr asked. “Somehow I don’t think you’ve simply been sitting around keeping an eye on me just in case I got into trouble. And if you haven’t been actively involved in what
I’ve
been doing, then what
have
you been involved in?”

“The truth is, Your Eminence, that I
have
been basically ‘sitting around keeping an eye’ on you.” Gorjah shrugged. “I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I can—as soon as I have permission to. For right now, though, just accept that someone else knew about you and your friends in the Temple. I don’t know who those others are, and I don’t know everything you’ve been up to. I do know, now, why you had me doing some of the research in the archbishopric’s records. Why you were looking for proof of corruption, or of directives from the Temple that were . . . less than appropriate for one of God’s vicars or archbishops to be issuing, shall we say. And I understand now why you’ve taken some of the stances you’ve taken, despite the fact that you knew they were going to be wildly unpopular with other members of the episcopate.

“I’ll admit it hurt, at first, when I realized there was something deep and dangerous going on that you weren’t telling me about. I thought, at the beginning, that you didn’t trust me. Or, even worse, you didn’t think I felt the same things you felt when I looked at how Mother Church was falling so far short of what she ought to have been. Then I realized you were doing it to protect me and, later, to protect Sahmantha and the kids, and I loved you for that.”

His hand tightened on Cahnyr’s arm, and his voice hoarsened for a moment. He paused and cleared his throat, then continued.

“I loved you for it, and I realized you were right. I did have other people to worry about—‘hostages to fortune,’ as Bédard put it. So I let you go ahead and exclude me. But when I was contacted by someone else who knew about your activities, and when that someone else convinced me he wasn’t the Inquisition in disguise, and that all he wanted me to do was to stay right here in Glacierheart to coordinate ways to get you out if what ever you were doing finally blew up in your face, I was delighted.
Delighted,
Your Eminence.

“Whoever your friend in Zion is, he sent me word months ago that this was coming, and I’ve been making my arrangements ever since. Teagmahn never even noticed. As a matter of fact, I’ve been one of his in formants for the last couple of years now.” The secretary smiled nastily. “That was one of the things your friend in Zion suggested as a way to make certain there was no suspicion pointed in
my
direction. I can’t pretend I’ve enjoyed having him believe I actually think the same way
he
does, but your friend was right about what a perfect cover it made. Every single word I’ve ever reported to him has been true, too, so I’m sure I’m considered a very reliable source. With the added advantage that he’s been so busy watching
you
that I’m sure he never even glanced in
my
direction.”

The under- priest shrugged. “So, Your Eminence, the upshot is that Sahmantha and the kids are waiting at the posting house, the owner of which happens to be a cousin of hers. He doesn’t know exactly what we’re doing, but he does know you’re in trouble, and like quite an amazing number of people here in Glacierheart, he loves you. All he has to do is not mention ever seeing us, because I don’t think it’s going to occur to the Inquisition that you somehow managed to get from Summit House clear around to the other side of Mount Tairys during one of the worst blizzards in the last thirty years. I don’t think they’re going to believe you could have gotten back down the mountain and escaped through Tairys itself, either, but that’s going to seem a lot more reasonable to them than
this
does. So I expect they’re going to concentrate their efforts on traffic in and out of Tairys. In fact, this time of year, I think they’re almost going to have to concentrate their main efforts on the Graywater and the river road to Mountain Lake and then on to Siddar City. In the meantime, though, we’re going to be heading west into Cliff Peak, then swinging south across the South March into Silkiah.”

Cahnyr stared at him. He had no idea who his mysterious benefactor might be, or how anyone could have had the foresight to arrange something like this so long in advance. And despite everything Gorjah had just said, there was a part of him which railed against involving his secretary—and especially the under- priest’s
family
— in his own dangers. But it was evident that things were out of his hands, at least for the moment.

The
Writ
says God works in mysterious ways, Zhasyn,
he reminded himself.
And remember what you were thinking when you first got that letter, how it proved therewere others who saw what you’d seen and recognized what you and the Circle had recognized
. His lips twitched wryly.
And who seem to have organized themselves just a bit more effectively, when it comes down to it. If there are still people who can put something like this together, without even me noticing a thing along the way, and actually pull it off, then it looks as if Clyntahn and Trynair’s neat little house may have more spider-rats in the foundations than I’d ever imagined. I think Samyl’s right—that real change, real reform, is going to depend on the external threat of the Church of Charis. But maybe, just maybe, there are going to be more people inside Mother Church prepared to act than Clyntahn ever suspected or I ever hoped
.

He felt a brief burn of shame with the last thought. Shame for the arrogance which had kept him from suspecting that those other people were there. For having excluded Gharth Gorjah, however noble his motives, from something the young priest obviously had wanted so badly to be part of. For having doubted that God could find the hearts and souls He needed whenever He decided to call them.

He reached out and laid one palm against the side of the younger man’s head, cupping his cheek, and smiled at him in the lantern light.

“I still think you’re mad,” he said softly, “but if you are, so am I. And sometimes, a madman is exactly what God needs.”

HMS Chihiro, 50

Gorath Bay,

Kingdom of Dohlar

My Lord, Bishop Staiphan and Admiral Hahlynd are about to come alongside.”

The Earl of Thirsk looked up from the report on his desk as the rather dashing young man with coal- black hair stuck his head respectfully into the day cabin with the announcement. Lieutenant Ahbail Bahrdailahn—
Sir
Ahbail Bahrdailahn, on social occasions—was the youngest brother of the Baron of Westbar. His brother’s barony was located in the southwestern corner of the Duchy of Windborne, which happened to be completely landlocked. Despite that, Bahrdailahn had made his preference for a naval career clear at an early age. In fact, according to his somewhat exasperated brother, his very first sentence had been “Avast there, you nanny!” Most people considered that a likely exaggeration, but his family, which had provided officers to the Royal Army since time out of mind, truly had done its best to dissuade him from such an unnatural step. Stubbornness, however, was one of young Bahrdailahn’s most pronounced characteristics, and his various brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles had given up the task before he turned twenty. (His parents had been wise enough to abandon the effort much sooner than that.)

Now, about five years later, young Bahrdailahn had found himself assigned as Thirsk’s flag lieutenant. He had not, to put it mildly, thought much of the assignment when it was first offered to him. He would vastly have preferred the command of one of the Navy’s new brigs or, failing that, a first- lieutenancy on one of the galleons. And, to be fair, he would have been qualified for either. True, he wasn’t the seaman many of the Navy’s old sailing masters were, yet unlike altogether too many of the “old navy’s” officers, he’d made a conscientious effort to acquire at least the rudiments of seamanship, and there’d never been anything wrong with his courage or fighting ability.

Despite that, he’d resigned himself to his new post with a minimum of complaint. He’d later admitted to Thirsk that his original intention had been to do his best “brainless noble fop” imitation to convince Thirsk to replace him, but he’d gotten over that quickly as he found himself plunged into the enormous task of building a brand- new navy—a navy based on the professional Charisian model—from the waterline up. Unlike too many “old navy” officers, he’d not only understood what Thirsk wanted to accomplish but actually approved wholeheartedly. He was also astute enough to recognize the enemies Thirsk was making along the way, and the earl’s unflinching willingness to do just that had won Bahrdailahn’s admiration. Admiration which had trans-muted into devotion over the past strenuous five- days and months.

Which probably explained the trepidation hovering behind his eyes. It was well hidden, that trepidation, but Thirsk knew him too well not to see it.

“Thanks for the warning, Ahbail,” the earl said now, mildly, as he heard the bosun’s pipes and the rush of feet across the deck. Captain Baiket had obviously spotted the approaching barge and called away the proper side party.

“Please go and make certain Mahrtyn’s prepared to join us,” Thirsk continued. “And tell Paiair to break out a bottle of my best whiskey. Then stand by to escort our guests aft.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Bahrdailahn started to withdraw, but Thirsk’s raised finger stopped him. “Yes, My Lord?”

“I’ve known Admiral Hahlynd for a great many years, Ahbail, and so far, at least, I’ve heard that Bishop Staiphan is fairly reasonable. I don’t anticipate finding myself locked in a death struggle with either of them in the next few hours.” He smiled ever so slightly. “I trust I make myself clear?”

“Yes, My Lord. Of course!” Bahrdailahn might have colored just a bit, although it was difficult to tell against his dark (and darkly tanned) complexion. Then the young man smiled a bit sheepishly. “Sorry about that, My Lord,” he said in a more natural tone. “It’s just—”