The Dog of the North (37 page)

‘I trust you have had a productive day, my lord,’ said Lord Thaume as the meat courses drew to a close; by all understanding it would have been indecorous to raise such matters of
business any earlier.

Raugier chewed the last of his perch with deliberation. ‘I have learned much of interest. I have encountered many folk well along the Way, and yearning for the viators to help them yet
further.’

Lord Thaume sipped at a crisp white wine from his own vineyard. ‘We may live a spartan life in Croad,’ he said, ‘but there is always scope for folk to Follow the
Way.’

‘As they see fit, of course.’

‘Naturally,’ said Lord Thaume, setting his goblet down. ‘Since the alternative is to proceed in a way they find unfitting, this is surely uncontentious.’

‘Your views interest me,’ said Raugier, dabbing his lips with a damask napkin. ‘Candidly, I have seen too much of folk thinking they can choose their own path along the Way.
Such an approach does not, ultimately, lead to Harmony.’

‘I take it you refer to the Gollains.’

‘All are agreed that the Wheel constitutes a pernicious heresy. If all followed their own inclinations, who would need the viators?’

‘My lord fully agrees with you, sir,’ said Viator Sleech, blinking rheumily.

‘Thank you, Sleech. I am able to articulate my own opinions,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘My own beliefs are strictly orthodox. If a minority of my people chooses to follow the Wheel,
that is a matter for their own judgement.’

‘The minority appears to me sizeable, my lord. Some estimate that fully a quarter of the population of Croad are heretics.’

‘My lord, the estimate is grossly exaggerated,’ said Lady Jilka, who had scarcely spoken during the meal. ‘I would be surprised if one in twenty follows the Wheel.’

Raugier inclined his head. ‘I would be churlish to challenge the opinion of a lady so noble, pious and beautiful. My own calculation would be materially higher, but that is by the by. Even
one heretic would be too many, especially when the lord of the city connives at their practices.’

‘“Connivance” is a strong word, my lord,’ said Lord Thaume.

‘You may wish to supply another,’ said Raugier. ‘“Encouragement”, perhaps?’

‘My lord!’ said Jilka. ‘My husband may display a tolerance some deplore, but he, and our entire household, are wholly orthodox in their persuasions. I challenge anyone to say
otherwise.’

‘I understand your view was somewhat different during Lord Thaume’s absence at Jehan’s Steppe.’

Jilka flushed. ‘Tales of our disagreement were exaggerated. Lord Thaume has now explained the basis of his policies.’

Raugier leaned forward with a quizzical glance. ‘I am intrigued. Has he explained them to your satisfaction? Your devotion to the Way is legendary.’

Jilka’s mouth sagged. ‘Lord Thaume – naturally has his own perspective. As his consort my duty is to obey.’

‘If so upright a lady endorses her lord’s orthodoxy, how can I do otherwise?’

Lady Jilka gave a nervous smile.

‘Let me ask you one further question, my lady.’

Jilka looked back dumbly.

‘Were your husband to leave you Regent of Croad again, would you permit free worship at the Temple?’

‘I – I would take the advice of Viator Sleech and Viator Dince.’

Raugier narrowed his eyes. ‘Viator Dince might think twice about offering candid advice, my lady. I suggest that you would not in conscience allow the Temple to remain open.’

‘It – it would not be a comfortable sight for me. I cannot say I would close it again.’

‘I thank you for your candour, my lady. Lord Thaume, let me ask you a hypothetical question.’

‘I do not believe there can be such a thing from a Commissioner of Orthodoxy.’

Raugier shrugged. ‘Hearing Lady Jilka’s response as you have, would you leave her as Regent again? On the last occasion you chose Sir Langlan who, to be blunt, suffers a reputation
for dissipation and irreligion.’

‘That is not “suffering”; it is a boast!’ called Sir Langlan from away down the table.

‘Thank you, Sir Langlan,’ said Lord Thaume with a reproachful glare. ‘I chose Sir Langlan merely because I travelled south, leaving a potential northern army to my rear. That,
and the fact that I wished to take Lady Jilka to Glount, explained my decision. I would have no hesitation in appointing my wife as Regent in the future.’

‘You paint a pleasing picture of domestic felicity and mutual trust,’ said Raugier. ‘This will weigh – to an extent – in my conclusions.’

‘Lord Raugier,’ called Erlard from towards the base of the table. ‘I find that Lord Thaume’s household is not as orthodox as he claims. You, girl, come here.’

Arren saw with horror that he was summoning Eilla from her duties clearing the plates away. She stepped forward. ‘This girl was wearing a Wheel brooch this morning.’

‘Come here, girl,’ said Raugier. ‘Let me examine you.’

Eilla looked helplessly at Arren. She walked over to Lord Raugier and curtsied.

‘Are you wearing a brooch now?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘But you did this morning?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘You are a heretic?’

‘I said to Viator Erlard this morning that I followed the Wheel.’

‘You admit as much, in front of Lord Thaume, and the Lord High Viator?’

‘I was always brought up to be truthful, my lord. I do not regard it as occasion for shame.’

‘You are forward, for a servant.’

‘I merely answer the questions you ask me, my lord.’

‘Is that so? Answer me this: why should I not have you whipped?’

She looked down levelly into his face. ‘Because it would do no good. I should still follow the Wheel.’

‘You are highly impertinent.’

Lord Thaume intervened. ‘She is only responding to your inquisition, my lord. No doubt you would be equally critical were she struck dumb.’

‘Enough. You can go, girl.’

Arren felt a surge of sympathy for Eilla, blotted out by a tight-lipped rage. He could see Eilla was on the verge of a sharp retort, and he could not blame her.

Her face scarlet, she said: ‘Until a month ago I cared nothing for the Wheel. I could hardly have told you the difference between the Wheel and the Way. It was only when Viator Dince cut
my father’s hand off that I realized it was important. If I follow the Wheel, it is the viators who have shown the way. Is that not what they are supposed to do?’

Raugier rose from his seat. He kicked Eilla twice. ‘Impudent hussy! Schismatic harlot! You shall not only be whipped but hanged! I command it!’

Lord Thaume spoke quietly. ‘In my hall, you command nothing, my lord. Eilla, your provocation has been extreme, but you have gone too far. Leave us now. Lord Raugier, you may reach
whatever conclusions you choose about practices in Croad, but while I rule you shall not pass sentence on any of my servants.’

Raugier collected himself and performed an immaculate bow. ‘I hear and understand fully, my lord. I thank you for your hospitality and frank insights this evening. I hope you will now
excuse me: I have eaten my fill.’

Not even pausing to wait for his attendants, he strode from the hall.

Siedra leaned across to Arren. ‘She does not know her place.’

‘I am glad of it,’ said Arren. ‘She only spoke the truth as she saw it.’

Guigot chuckled. ‘Truth? It is a truth that will cost Thaume his head. Raugier’s pride will not tolerate that rebuke. He will have his revenge, and it will not be on the servant
girl.’

‘Arren, listen to me,’ said Siedra. ‘She is bound for destruction, and soon. Do not let her take you with her.’

3

A short while later Arren pleaded fatigue and slipped away from the table. He was not the only one to make an excuse; Guigot had disappeared as soon as Lord High Viator
Raugier had departed, and Sir Langlan’s increasingly elevated spirits had driven away most of his immediate neighbours.

Arren made his way to the servantry; on seeing his entrance Mistress Eulalia beckoned him outside. ‘You cannot keep coming in here, Seigneur. You do not help Eilla, or yourself.’

‘I am sorry, mistress. You may have heard something of this evening’s incident.’

Eulalia gave a wintry smile. ‘Eilla has not been discreet. If you have any influence over her, you may wish to enjoin her to restraint. She has been disruptive ever since she arrived
here.’

‘How could it be otherwise?’ said Arren. ‘She has suffered greatly.’

‘She is drawing too much attention to herself – including your own. It does not speak well for her.’

‘Where is she?’

‘In her room, I should imagine. I do not want you to see her there.’

With a barely perceptible shrug he turned and left the servantry.

He strode through the mean corridors, his boots ringing on the stone floor. He found himself at Eilla’s door and knocked. Wordlessly she opened it. Her eyes were red and swollen.

‘Let us go somewhere more private,’ he said. ‘I undertook to Mistress Eulalia not to visit you here.’

‘Your scrupulous sense of honour does you credit,’ she said with a flicker of a smile. ‘You may yet find favour with the Lord High Viator.’

‘The Pleasaunce became a little crowded this afternoon,’ he said. ‘I am sure Lord Thaume’s own viatory will be more private.’

‘Arren!’ said Eilla. ‘What if we are discovered?’

‘We will not be,’ he said. ‘Lord Thaume will not wish to visit the viatory tonight. In any event, who could condemn us for drawing solace in such a place?’

Eilla gave a half-shrug, and they set off up the stairs.

Lord Thaume’s viatory was a small room with panels of coloured glass at either end. Set into the wall opposite the altar was an alcove concealed behind an arras. In the flickering
candlelight of the viatory it was scarcely visible, and by unspoken consent they stepped behind the arras into the alcove’s veiled obscurity. Eilla sat down on the single wooden chair and
Arren leaned against the wall. ‘You were unwise to speak to Raugier in such a fashion,’ he said.

‘Perhaps I was, but I could not have kept silent,’ she said with a quiet intensity. ‘My father has always said the viators were wicked corrupt parasites. I never much cared;
even if he was right, the viators were hardly alone in their vices. But then I saw what Dince and Jilka did to him, and on top of all Raugier comes here and says we cannot worship the Wheel, and
threatens to depose Lord Thaume. Who is he to threaten us?’

‘He is the Lord High Viator, and Commissioner for Orthodoxy. He carries the weight of the King’s words, and the Consorts’.’

Her voice throbbed with emotion against the cold stone walls around them. ‘We have all lived our own lives in Croad for as long as I have known. Why do they suddenly have to turn
everything upside down?’ she asked, with a renewal of tears in her voice.

‘Eilla—’

She leaned away from Arren and wiped her sleeve across her face. ‘I should not be so pitiful. I am alive, healthy and I have people to care about me: many cannot say as much.’

‘You have suffered a lot, Eilla, and so quickly. It is only natural that you find it hard.’

‘We are still at war, Arren. You marched all the way north and beat Tardolio, and then you come back here and find that he was not the enemy at all. Raugier is far more dangerous, and he
can take Croad far more easily than Tardolio ever could.’

‘It is not a war I know how to fight,’ said Arren. ‘I cannot see an enemy with a sword. Raugier is the King’s man.’

Eilla gave a brittle laugh. ‘Do you believe that? Raugier is no more the King’s servant than he is mine. He and his faction are manipulating a sick old man and a stupid younger
one.’

‘Eilla! It is treason to describe Prince Jehan so.’

‘And a lie not to. The Gollains are not only in Croad: men follow the Wheel in Garganet, in Gammerling, even secretly in Emmen itself, they say. All the while the King permits it, no harm
is done to anyone, but once he tries to stamp it out, he will have war. The King’s counsellors should tell him so – but they are all viators.’

‘I do not think deeply on such questions,’ said Arren, ‘but I am concerned for you. If you do not make your sympathies less obvious, Thaume will not be able to save you.
Raugier needs to make an example of someone, and I cannot imagine he thinks to challenge Thaume himself. Make sure you are not the scapegoat, Eilla.’

She rose from her chair and stroked his cheek. ‘I am touched at your care for me, Arren. I know how easy it would be for you to leave me behind.’

‘I will never do that, Eilla. We have always meant too much to one another.’

‘Shh!’

Arren could hear a faint creaking from outside the alcove. It could only be the viatory door opening. He beckoned Eilla to the back of the alcove and gingerly peered through the tiny gap where
the arras met the wall.

He could dimly make out a lantern and two indistinct figures obscured in its shadow. He was conscious that Eilla was at his shoulder, but he could not risk moving to send her further back. Arren
could only hope that whoever had entered would not want to enter the alcove. But instead the figures went to stand before the altar. Neither man was tall: Lord Thaume was not visiting his own
viatory. So who were they?

‘I hope this is worth the subterfuge, Lord Guigot,’ said the clipped voice Arren recognized as Lord High Viator Raugier. This could not be an innocent meeting, and for a moment Arren
considered the consequences of being discovered.

‘I believe you will find it so, my lord,’ said Guigot, the lantern casting a vast shadow on his face. ‘It is late, and the viatory is chill. I will be brief and
candid.’

‘Please proceed.’

‘I have seen your progress, and that of your attendants, around Croad today. I might not be hazarding too much to suggest that you have been disappointed in my uncle’s
conduct.’

Arren’s eyes had become accustomed to the light, and he saw Raugier purse his lips. ‘There is a tolerance for the Gollains I find unsettling. The episode with the servant girl showed
Thaume in a poor light.’

‘All true-minded folk must think as much. Thaume panders to a minority, at the expense of those who follow the true Way.’