straying from the point here,’ Morsel said. ‘You were suggesting a
world-wide conspiracy of some kind, I think.’
‘Were we suggesting that, Sparhawk?’ Emban asked. ‘I suppose we were, your
Grace.’
‘Do you have anything concrete upon which to base this theory, Sir
Sparhawk?’ Morsel asked. ‘Logic is about all, your Grace.’
‘I’ll listen to logic – as long as she doesn’t contradict my beliefs.’
‘if a series of events happens in one place and it’s identical to a series
of events taking place in another, we’re justified in considering the
possibility of a common source, wouldn’t you say?’
‘On an interim basis, perhaps.’
‘It’s about all we have to work with at the moment, your Grace. The same
sort of thing could happen at the same time in two different places and
still be a coincidence, but when you get up to five or ten different
occurrences, coincidence sort of goes out the window. This current upheaval
involving Ayachin and the one they call Sabre here in Astel is almost
exactly duplicated in the kingdom of Lamorkand in Eosia, and Ambassador
Oscagne assures us that the same sort of thing’s erupting in other Daresian
kingdoms as well. It’s always the same. First there are the rumours that
some towering hero of antiquity has somehow returned. Then some firebrand
emerges to keep things stirred up. Here in Astel, you’ve got the wild
stories about Ayachin. In Lamorkand, they talk about Drychtnath. Here you
have a man named Sabre, and in Lamorkand they’ve got one named Gerrich. I’m
Fairly sure we’ll find the same sort of thing in Edam, Daconia, Arjuna and
Cynesga. Oscagne tells us that their national heroes are putting in an
appearance as well.’ Sparhawk rather carefully avoided mentioning Krager.
He was still not entirely certain where Morsel’s sympathies lay. ‘You build
a good case, Sparhawk,’ Morsel conceded. ‘But couldn’t this master plot be
directed at the Tamuls? They aren’t widely loved, you know.’
‘I think your Grace is overlooking Lamorkand,’ Emban said. ‘There aren’t
any Tamuls there. I’m guessing, but I’d say that the master plot – if
that’s what we want to call it – is directed at the Church in Eosia as
opposed to the empire here.’
‘Organised anarchy perhaps?’
‘I believe that’s a contradiction in terms, your Grace,’ Sparhawk pointed
out. ‘i’m not sure that we’re far enough along to deal with causes yet,
though. Right now we’re trying to sort through effects. If we’re correct in
assuming that this plot is all coming from the same person, then what we’re
seeing is someone who’s got a Wric plan with common elements which he
modifies to fit each particular culture. What we really want to do is to
identify this Sabre fellow.’
‘So that you can have him killed?’ Morsel’s tone was accusing. ‘No, your
Grace, that wouldn’t be practical. If we kill him, he’ll be replaced by
someone else – somebody we don’t know. I want to know who he is, and what
he is and everything I can possibly find out about him. I want to know how
he thinks, what drives him and what hiS personal motivations are. If I know
all of that, I can neutralise him without killing him. To be completely
honest with you, I don’t really care about Sabre. I want the one who’s
behind him.’ Morsel seemed shaken. ‘This is a dreadful man, Emban,’ he said
in a hushed tone. ‘implacable is the word, I think.’
‘if we can believe Oscagne – and I think we can, someone’s using the
arcane arts in this business,’ Sparhawk told them. ‘That’s why the Church
Knights were created originally. It’s our business to deal with magic. Our
Elene religion can’t cope with it because there’s no place in our faith for
it. We had to go outside the faith to the Styrics – to learn how to
counteract magic. It opened some doors we might have preferred had been
left closed, but that’s the price we had to pay. Somebody or something – on
the other side’s using magic of a very high order. I’m here to stop him to
kill him if need be. Once he’s gone, the Atans can deal with Sabre. I
know an Atan, and if her people are at all like her, I know we can count on
them to be thorough.’
‘You trouble me, Sparhawk,’ Morsel admitted. ‘Your devotion to your duty’s
almost inhuman, and your resolve goes even beyond that. You shame me,
Sparhawk.’ He sighed and sat tugging at his beard, his eyes lost in
thought. finally, he straightened. ‘All right, Emban, can we suspend the
rules?’
‘I didn’t quite follow that.’
‘I wasn’t going to tell you this,’ the Archimandrite said, ‘first of all
because it’ll probably raise your doctrinal hackles, but more importantly
because I didn’t really want to share it with you. This implacable Sparhawk
of yours has convinced me otherwise. If I don’t tell you what I know, he’ll
dismantle Astel and everyone in it to get the information, won’t you,
Sparhawk?’
‘i’d really hate that, your Grace.’
‘But you’d do it anyway, wouldn’t you?’
‘if I had to.’ Morsel shuddered. ‘You’re both churchmen, so I’m going to
invoke the rule of clerical confidentiality. You haven’t changed the
requirements of that in Chyrellos yet, have you, Emban?’
‘Not unless Sarathi did it since I’ve been gone. At any rate, you have our
word that neither of us will reveal anything you tell us.’
‘Except to another clergyman,’ Morsel amended. ‘I’ll go that far.’
‘All right,’ Emban agreed. Morsel leaned back in his chair, stroking his
beard. ‘The Tamuls have no real conception of how powerful the Church is in
the Elene kingdoms here in Western Daresia,’ he began.’in the first place,
their religion’s hardly more than a set of ceremonies. Tamuls don’t even
think about religion, so they can’t understand the depth of the faith in
the hearts of the devout – and the serfs of Astel are quite likely the most
devout people on earth. They take all of their problems to their priests and
not only their own problems, but their neighbours’ as well. The serfs
are everywhere and they see everything, and they tell their priests.’
‘I think it was called tale-bearing when I was in the ‘ seminary,’ Emban
noted. we had a worse name for it during our novitiate,’ Sparhawk added.
‘All sorts of unpleasant accidents used to happen on the training-field
because of it.’ nobody likes a snitch,’ Morsel agreed, but like it or not,
the Astellian clergy knows everything that happens in the kingdom literally
everything. We’re sworn to keep these secrets, of course, but we
feel that our primary responsibility is to the spiritual health of our
flock. Since a large proportion of our priests were originally serfs, they
simply don’t have the theological training to deal with complex spiritual
problems. We’ve devised a way to provide them with the advice they need.
The serf-priests do not reveal the names of those who have come to them,
but they do take serious matters to their superiors, and their superiors
bring those matters to me.’
‘I have no real difficulty with that,’ Emban said. ‘As long as the names
are kept secret, the confidentiality hasn’t been violated.’
‘We’ll get on well together, Emban.’ Morsel smiled briefly. ‘The serfs
look upon Sabre as a liberator.’
‘So we gathered,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘There seems to be a certain lack of
consistency in his speeches, though. He tells the nobles that Ayachin wants
to throw off the Tamul yoke, and then he tells the serfs that Ayachin’s
real goal is the abolition of serfdom. Moreover, he’s persuaded the nobles
to become very brutal in their dealings with the serfs. That’s not only
disgusting, it’s irrational. The nobles should be trying to enlist the
serfs, not alienate them. Viewed realistically, Sabre’s no more than an
agitator, and he’s not even particularly subtle. He’s a political
adolescent.’
‘That’s going a little far, Sparhawk,’ Emban protested. ‘How do you
account for his success then? An idiot like that could never persuade the
Astels to accept his word.’
‘They’re not accepting his word. They’re accepting Ayachin’s.’
‘Have you taken leave of your senses, Sparhawk?’
‘No, your Grace. I mentioned before that someone on the other side’s been
using magic. This is what I was talking about. The people here have
actually been seeing Ayachin himself.’
‘That’s absurd!’ Morsel seemed profoundly disturbed. Sparhawk sighed. ‘For
the sake of your Grace’s theological comfort, let’s call it some kind of
hallucination a mass illusion created by a clever charlatan, or some
accomplice dressed in archaic clothing who appears suddenly in some
spectacular fashion. Whatever its source, if what’s happening here is
anything like what’s happening in Lamorkand, your people are absolutely
conwinced that Ayachin’s returned from the grave. Sabre probably makes a
speech – a rambling collection of disconnected platitudes – and then this
hallucination appears in a flash of light and a clap of thunder and