about it.
CHAPTER 2
‘Your Majesty,’ the Earl of Lenda protested, ‘you can’t address this kind
of language to the Archprelate.’ Lenda was staring with chagrin at the
piece of paper the queen had just handed him. ‘You’ve done everything but
accuse him of being a thief and a scoundrel.’
‘Oh, did I leave those out?’
she asked. ‘How careless of me.’ They were meeting in the blue-carpeted
council chamber as they usually did at this time of the morning. ‘Can’t
you do something with her, Sparhawk?’ Lenda pleaded. ‘Oh, Lenda,’ Ehlana
laughed, smiling at the frail old man, ‘that’s only a draft. I was a
little irritated when I scribbled it down.’
‘A little?’
“I know we can’t send the letter in its present form, my Lord. I just
wanted you to know how I really felt about the matter before we rephrase it
and couch it in diplomatic language. My whole point is that Dolmant’s
beginning to overstep his bounds. He’s the Archprelate, not the emperor.
The Church has too much authority over temporal affairs already, and, if
someone doesn’t bring Dolmant up short, every monarch in Eosia will become
little more than his vassal. I’m sorry gentlemen. I’m a true daughter of
the Church, but I won’t kneel to Dolmant and receive my crown back from him
in some contrived little ceremony that has no purpose other than my
humiliation.’ ‘ Sparhawk was a bit surprised at his wife’s political
maturity. The power structure on the Eosian Continent had always depended
on a rather delicate balance between the authority of the Church and the
power of the various kings. When that balance was disturbed, things went
awry. ‘Her Majesty’s point may be welltaken, Lenda,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘The Eosian monarchies haven’t been very strong for the last generation or
so. Aldreas was -‘ He groped for a word. ‘inept,’ his wife coolly
characterised her own father. “I might not have gone quite that far,’ he
murmured. ‘Wargun’s erratic, Saros is a religious hysteric, Obler’s old,
and Friedahl reigns only at the sufferance of his barons. Dregos lets his
relatives make all his decisions, King Brtsant of Cammorta is a voluptuary
and I don’t even know the name of the current King of Render.’ ‘Ogyrin,’
Kalten supplied, ‘not that it really matters.’ ‘Anyway,’ Sparhawk
continued, sinking lower in his chair and rubbing the side of his face
thoughtfully, ‘during this same period of time, we’ve had a number of very
able churchmen in the Hierocracy. The incapacity of Cluvonus sort of
encouraged the patriarchs to strike out on their own. If you had a vacant
throne someplace, you could do a lot worse than put Emban on it – or Ortzel
– or Bergsten, and even Annias had a very high degree of political skill.
When kings grow weak, the Church grows strong – too strong sometimes.’
‘Spit it out, Sparhawk,’ Platime growled. ‘Are you trying to say we should
declare war on the Church?’
‘Not today, Platime. We might want to keep the idea
in reserve, though. Right now I think it’s time to start sending some
signals to Chyrellos, and our queen may be just the one to send them.
After the way she stampeded the Hierocracy during Dolmant’s election, I
think they’ll listen very carefully to just about anything she says. I
don’t know that I’d soften her letter all that much, Lenda. Let’s see if
we can get their attention.’ Lenda’s eyes were very bright. ‘This is the
way the game’s supposed to be played, my friends,.’ he said
enthusiastically. ‘You do realise that it’s altogether possible that
Dolmant didn’t realise that he was stepping over the line,’ Kalten noted.
‘Maybe he sent Sparhawk to Lamorkand as the interim preceptor of the
Pandion Order and completely overlooked the fact that he’s also the prince
consort. Sarathi’s got a lot on his mind just now.’
‘if he’s that absent-minded, he’s got no business occupying the
Archprelate’s throne,’
Ehlana asserted. Her eyes narrowed, always a dangerous sign. ‘Let’s make
it very clear to him that he’s hurt my feelings. He’ll go out of his way
to smooth things over, and maybe I can take advantage of that to retrieve
that Duchy just north of Vardenaise. Lenda, is there any way we can keep
people from bequeathing their estates to the Church?’ “It’s a
long-standing custom, your Majesty.’ “I know, but the land originally
comes from the crown. Shouldn’t we have some say in who inherits it? You’d
think that if a nobleman dies without an heir, the estate Would revert
back to me, but every time there’s a childless noble in Elenia, the
churchmen flock around him like vultures trying to talk him into giving
them the land.’ “jerk some titles,’ Platime suggested. ‘Make it a law
that if a man doesn’t have an heir, he doesn’t keep his estate.’
‘The aristocracy would go up in flames,’ Lenda gasped.
‘That’s what the army’s for,’ Platime shrugged, ‘to put out fires. I’ll
tell you what, Ehlana, you pass the law, and I’ll arrange a few very public
and very messy accidents for the ones who scream the loudest. Aristocrats
aren’t very bright, but they’ll get the point – eventually.’
‘Do you think I could get away with
that?’ Ehlana asked the Earl of Lenda.
‘Surely your Majesty’s not seriously considering it?’
‘I have to do something, Lenda. The Church is eating up my kingdom acre by
acre, and once she takes possession of an estate, the land’s removed from
the tax rolls forever.’ She paused. ‘This could just be a way to do what
Sparhawk suggested – get the Church’s attention. Why don’t we draw up a
draft of some outrageously repressive law and just “accidentally” let a
copy fall into the hands of some middle-level ‘clergyman. It’s probably
safe to say that it’ll be in Dolmant’s hands before the ink’s dry.’
‘That’s really unscrupulous, my Queen,’ Lenda told her.
‘i’m so glad you approve, my Lord.’ She looked
around. ‘Have we got anything else this morning, gentlemen?’
“You’ve got some unauthorised bandits operating in the mountains near
Cardos, Ehlana,’ Platime rumbled.
The gross, black-bearded man sat with his Feet upon the
table. There was a wine flagon and goblet at his elbow. His doublet was
wrinkled and food-spotted, and his shaggy harr hung down over his
forehead, almost covering his eyes. Platime was constitutionally incapable
of using formal titles, but the queen chose to overlook that.
‘Unauthorised?’ Kalten sounded amused.
‘You know what I mean,’ Platime growled.
‘They don’t have permission from the thieves’ council to operate
in that region, and they’re breaking all the rules. I’m not positive, but
I think they’re some of the former henchmen of the Primate of Cimmura. You
blundered there, Ehlana. You should have waited until you had them in
custody before you declared them outlaws.’
‘Oh well,’ she shrugged. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’
Ehlana’s relationship with ‘Platime was peculiar. She
realised that he was unable to mouth the polite formulas of the nobility,
and so she accepted a bluntness from him that would have offended her had
it come from anyone else. For all his faults, Platime was turning into a
gifted, almost brilliant counsellor, and Ehlana valued his advice greatly.
‘i’m not surprised to find out that Annias’ old cronies have turned to
highway robbery in their hour of need. They were all bandits to begin with
anyway. There have always been outlaws in those mountains, though, so I
doubt that another band will make all that much difference.’
‘Ehlana,’ he sighed, ‘you’re the same as my very own baby sister, but
sometimes you’re terribly ignorant. An authorised bandit knows the rules.
He knows which travellers can be robbed or killed and which ones have to be
left alone. Nobody gets too excited if some overstuffed merchant gets his
throat cut and his purse lifted, but if a government official or a
high-ranking nobleman turns up dead in those mountains, the authorities
have to take steps to at least make it appear that they’re doing their
jobs. That sort of official attention is very bad for business. Perfectly
innocent criminals get rounded up and hanged. Highway robbery’s not an
occupation for amateurs. And there’s another problem as well. These bandits
are telling all the local peasantry that they’re not really robbers, but
patriots rebelling against a cruel tyrant – that’s you, little sister.
There’s always enough discontent among the peasants to make some of them
sympathetic toward that sort of thing. You aristocrats haven’t any business
getting involved in crime. You always try to mix politics in with it.’
‘But my dear Platime,’ she said winsomely, “I thought you knew.
Politics is a crime.’
The fat man roared with laughter. “I love this girl,’ he told the others.
‘Don’t worry too much about it, Ehlana. I’ll try to get some men inside
their band, and when Stragen gets back, we’ll put our heads together and
work out some way to put those people out of business.’