By Schism Rent Asunder (34 page)

“Then probably our friend with the tinderbox didn't know it, either. He probably thought the building would be empty at this time of night.”

“I suppose that makes me feel a
little
better,” Mahklyn said bleakly. “But if whoever it was wanted to destroy the College, he's succeeded. All our records, all our documents, all our
work
is inside that building,
Seijin
Merlin.
Everything
, you understand? Gone.”

“The records and the documents, yes, Doctor.” Mahklyn turned back to look at Merlin once more, startled by the gentleness which had suddenly infused the guardsman's voice. Merlin looked back steadily, and his shoulders twitched in an odd little shrug. “The records may be gone, but the minds which created them, or studied them, or worked with them, are still here.”

“We can't possibly reconstitute all of that—”

“Probably not, but at least you can make a start on it. And, if you'll permit me to say so, what you really need is to find yourselves some youngsters with the same mindset. Get
them
involved. Give them some starting points and some guidance, then stand back and see where they take it. You might be surprised. And at least you know Cayleb is prepared to support and fund you openly. Let him, Doctor. You've got too much rebuilding to do to worry about the independence from the Crown that might have been so important forty years ago.”

Mahklyn stared at him, listening to the mocking roar of the furnace consuming his life's work. The insulating effect of shock and the first outriders of grief were already beginning to pass, and as he met Merlin's eyes in the lurid glare of the flames, he knew why that was. They were being displaced by another emotion—rage. Raw, bloody-fanged rage. Rage such as he had never before felt in his entire life.

“Yes, Doctor,” Captain Athrawes said, nodding almost as if he could read Mahklyn's mind. “Whatever else happens, you can't let
these
people”—he gestured at the booming flames—“win, can you?”

*   *   *

Bishop Mylz Halcom watched the additional fire engines charging through the city streets. Despite the lateness of the hour, the seething torrent of crimson flame and midnight-black smoke had summoned quite a crowd out into the streets, as well. Many of the spectators were hurrying forward to assist the firemen in fighting the flames, although it must be obvious to all of them that the Royal College itself was already doomed. The majority were simply gawking in awe at the holocaust. It wouldn't be long until they figured out exactly how the fire had started, though, and Halcom nodded to himself in satisfaction.

All the loyal sons of Mother Church had needed was a little leadership, a little direction to point the way for their outraged faith to strike back at the abomination of the so-called “Church of Charis'” schismatic heresy.

And what could have been a more suitable target?
he asked himself.
It's time Cayleb and his sycophants discover just how hot the true faithful's rage really burns. That accursed
seijin
may have managed to save that traitor Staynair's life, but they know now that one setback isn't going to cause us to just give up! Perhaps this little bonfire will help them … reassess their decision to raise impious hands against God's true Church.

And if it doesn't, I'm sure we'll be able to find one that will … eventually
.

.II.

Royal Palace,
City of Tellesberg,
Kingdom of Charis

“So you're certain it was deliberately set?” King Cayleb asked grimly.

He and Merlin sat in comfortable chairs in the sitting room of the king's personal suite in Tellesberg Palace, and Merlin's black and gold uniform smelled of smoke. No, actually it
reeked
of smoke, Cayleb corrected himself, which wasn't all that surprising. Despite the firemen's best efforts, the entire block around the Royal College had burned along with it, and after he'd handed Mahklyn over to the half squad of the Guard which Cayleb had sent in his wake by more … conventional methods, Merlin had been deeply involved in trying to save what could be saved.

“Yes.” Merlin sighed and rubbed his mustachios, which seemed a little singed on one side. “I'm certain it was. The buildings were tinderboxes stuffed full of kindling, but they wouldn't have gone up that quickly without some help. I'd say the fire started in at least four or five places simultaneously. Probably from burning lanterns thrown in through the ground-floor windows.” He shook his head. “Those savants of your father's didn't even have
bars
on the windows, for God's sake! Talk about babes in a boat.…”

“I know.” Cayleb ran the fingers of both hands through his dark hair, then shook his own head half helplessly. “I know! But Father was never able to convince them that anybody could possibly hate
them
just because they insisted on asking questions.”

“Well, I'd say they're convinced now,” Merlin replied. “And I should've seen this coming. I should've been keeping a closer eye on them, especially after what almost happened to Maikel, because Mahklyn's right. We've just finished losing an enormous stockpile of knowledge and information. I told him it could be re-created, and probably it can—or a lot of it, at any rate. But we've lost
years
of lead time, Cayleb. It would be hard for me to think of any other target they could have attacked—aside from Maikel, of course—which would have hurt us equally badly.”

“I know,” Cayleb repeated yet again. “But don't feel too badly about not having seen it coming ahead of time. Not even
your
‘visions'”—he grinned crookedly at Merlin—“can see everything. We're going to be surprised more than once before this is over, so we might as well start getting used to it now. And at least you were able to get there—and please note that I am
not
asking how!—in time to save Dr. Mahklyn. That's a huge blessing right there.”

Merlin nodded, although he still looked distinctly unhappy with himself, and then Cayleb's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.

“And while we're busy looking for silver linings, there's not going to be any more nonsense about where their precious College is going to be located from now on, either. I want them inside these walls, and I want bodyguards assigned to every member of the faculty, and to their families, whether they want them or not!”

“That's going to be a lot of bodyguards,” Merlin observed mildly.

“Do you disagree?” Cayleb challenged.

“I didn't say that. I only said it was going to be a lot of bodyguards, and it is. As a matter of fact, I think it's probably a very good idea, at least for the faculty members and their immediate families. But you're going to have to draw a line somewhere, Cayleb. Right now, I suspect, these Temple Loyalists are still trying to make a point, to convince all of us that the schism was a terrible mistake we should undo as quickly as possible. But they're going to get even more violent as they begin to realize how irrelevant their ‘message' is as far as most of your subjects are concerned. The more isolated they become, the more powerless they feel, the more likely they are to do things like tonight. And once it truly begins sinking in that they aren't going to change enough minds to matter, no matter what they do, they're going to go looking for ways to
punish
people, not for ways that might simply frighten them into heeding ‘the true will of God.' Which means that, sooner or later, you're going to reach a point at which you simply
can't
provide bodyguards for all of their likely targets.”

“Then what should I do instead?” Merlin felt certain Cayleb would not have let any of his other advisers hear that particular note of frustration and semi-despair. “Go ahead and take Bynzhamyn's advice and start arresting people on suspicion? Crack down on anyone who disagrees with me?
Prove
I'm some sort of tyrant, intent on usurping the Church's rightful authority for purely selfish reasons of my own?”

“I didn't say that, either,” Merlin replied gently. “I only said there are limits, which is true. And the corollary of that, whether we like it or not, is that we simply can't protect everyone. You just said it yourself, Cayleb. There are going to be more incidents like tonight and, eventually, people
are
going to get killed when they happen. You're going to have to accept that. And you're going to have to decide whether or not trying to limit the damage justifies resorting to repression, after all.”

“I don't want to. As God is my witness, I don't want to.”

“Which probably says good things about you as a person. And, in my opinion, for what it's worth, it says good things about you as a king, as well. Justice isn't something to be lightly bartered away, Cayleb, and the faith your subjects have in your own and your family's sense of justice is one of the greatest legacies your father left you. I can't say you'll never reach a time when you have no option but to arrest first and figure out what to do second, but I will say that I think you have to avoid it for as long as you can without compromising your safety, or the safety of the Kingdom as a whole. And that's going to be a judgment call—one
you'll
have to make.”

“Oh, thanks,” Cayleb said with a sardonic smile.

“Well, you
are
the king. I'm only a lowly bodyguard.”

“Of course you are, Master Traynyr.”

Merlin chuckled just a bit sadly as he remembered the first time King Haarahld had used that title for him. And, in all fairness, there were times he
did
feel like a puppetmaster. The problem was that he could never forget his “puppets” were flesh and blood, or that they had minds, wills, and destinies of their own.

And that, in the end, they all have the right to make up their
own
minds
, he reminded himself.
Don't you
ever
forget that, Merlin Athrawes, or Nimue Alban, or whoever you really are
.

“I did see to it that Dr. Mahklyn got bedded down here in the Palace tonight,” he said aloud after a moment. “With your permission, I think it might not be a bad idea to offer quarters here to his daughter and his son-in-law, as well. At least until we're confident that the people who set the College on fire tonight really didn't know he was in his office.”

“So you do think there's at least a possibility they were deliberately trying to kill him?”

“Of course there's a possibility of it, Cayleb. I just don't think the people behind this could have known he was sitting there like a wyvern on the pond, and if they didn't know he was there, they couldn't exactly have set out deliberately to kill him. I'm not saying they would have shed any tears if they'd managed to catch him in their little sausage roast, because I'm damned sure they
wouldn't
have. I'm only saying I don't think they set out to do that on purpose. This time.”

“I hope you're right about that. And while we're on the little matter of things I hope, is Dr. Mahklyn likely to be doing any mental sums about your … opportune arrival and peculiar abilities, shall we say?”

“Oh, I think you can count on it, after he's had a chance to get his brain put back into order. That's a very, very bright man, Cayleb. I don't think his brain ever really shuts down, and sooner or later—probably sooner—he's going to want to know how I got there, how I got onto the roof, and how
we
got down the outside of the building.”

“And is there any disconcerting evidence I need to worry about concealing? Any more krakens with harpoons driven completely through them, for instance?”

“I don't think you need to worry about that this time around,” Merlin said reassuringly. “The walls were already coming down before I left, and the Fire Brigade's planning on demolishing the rest of them as soon as the embers cool enough. I'm fairly sure that any … peculiarities I might have left behind have been thoroughly consumed by the fire, and if they haven't, they'll be gone when the demolition's done.”

“Well, that's a relief, at least. Now all we have to do is worry about how we fob off one of the smartest men in Charis, who also happens to be the head of the Royal College, whose full-blooded support, I remind you, we're going to need in the not so distant future. Any suggestions on how to go about doing
that
, Merlin?”

“Actually, I do have a suggestion.”

“Spit it out, then!”

“I don't think you should try to fob him off at all,” Merlin said seriously. “We're both in agreement that he's an extraordinarily smart fellow. Probably smarter than either of us, when you get right down to it. So, the odds are he's going to figure out a lot of it on his own over the next several five-days. I think we should just go ahead and tell him.”

“Tell him what? How much? After all,” Cayleb observed wryly, “it's not as if you've told
me
everything.”

“I know.” Merlin's expression was apologetic, and he shook his head. “And I promise, I really will tell you as much as I can as soon as I can. But as far as Dr. Mahklyn is concerned, I think we need to tell him at least as much as Rayjhis and Bynzhamyn know. Probably as much as Ahrnahld and the rest of your personal detail know. And, eventually, I'd like him to know as much as
you
know, if it turns out that he's … philosophically flexible enough to handle it.”

“‘Philosophically flexible,'” Cayleb repeated with an almost dreamy expression. “Now there's a handy term for it. You have a way with words, I see,
Seijin
Merlin.”