He balanced the armour against the desk and poured himself some water, offering the jug to Virae who shook his head. ‘I’m sorry the room is such a mess, but I have been hurrying to finish my diary. So much to say, so little time.’
‘Bring it with you,’ she said.
‘I think not. Too many other problems to wrestle with once we are under way. You have changed since I saw you last, Virae.’
‘Two years is a long time, Abbot,’ she said, carefully.
‘I think it is the young man with you,’ he said, smiling. ‘He has a great influence.’
‘Nonsense. I am the same.’
‘Your walk is more assured. You are less clumsy than I remember. He has given you something, I think.’
‘Never mind that. What about the Dros?’ she snapped, blushing.
‘I am sorry, my dear. I did not wish to embarrass you.’
‘You have not embarrassed me,’ she lied. ‘Now, about Dros Delnoch. How can you help us?’
‘As I told your father two years ago, our help will be in organisation and planning. We will know the enemy’s plans. We can aid you in thwarting them. Tactically we can organise the defences and militarily we can fight like a hundred. But our price is high.’
‘My father has deposited 10,000 gold Raq in Ven-tria,’ she said. ‘With the merchant Asbidare.’
‘Good. Then that is settled. We ride in the morning.’
‘May I ask you something?’ said Virae. He opened his hands and waited. ‘Why do you need money?’
‘For the next Temple of The Thirty. Each temple is financed by the death of the last.’
‘Oh. What happens if you don’t die? I mean, supposing we win?’ His eyes searched her face for a matter of moments.
‘Then we return the money,’ he said.
‘I see,’ she said.
‘You are unconvinced?’
‘It doesn’t matter. What do you think of Rek?’
‘In what way?’ asked Vintar.
‘Let us not play games, Father Abbot. I know you can read minds. I want to know what you think of Rek?’
‘The question is not precise enough – no, let me finish,’ he said, watching her anger rise. ‘Do you mean as a man, as a warrior or as a prospective husband for the daughter of an earl?’
‘All three if you like. I don’t know. Just tell me.’
‘Very well. Do you believe in destiny?’
‘Yes,’ she said, remembering the same question she had asked of Rek. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Then believe this. You were destined to meet. You are the perfect match. You boost his strengths and counter his weaknesses. What he does for you, you know already. As a man he is not unique, nor even very special. He has no great talents, is not a poet, a writer or a philosopher. As a warrior – well, he has a sporadic courage that hides great fears. But he is a man in love. And that will increase his strength, and his power to combat his fears. As a husband? In days of peace and plenty, I feel he would be wayward. But for now . . . he loves you, and is prepared to die for you. You can ask no more of a man than that.’
‘Why did I meet him now, of all times?’ she asked, tears stinging her eyes. ‘I don’t want him to die. I would kill myself, I think.’
‘No, my dear. I don’t think you would, though I agree that you would feel like doing so. Why now? Why not? Live or die, a man and a woman need love. There is a need in the race. We need to share. To belong. Perhaps you will die before the year is out. But remember this: to have may be taken from you, to have had never. Far better to have tasted love before dying, than to die alone.’
‘I suppose so. But I would have liked children and a settled home. I would like to have taken Rek to Drenan and shown him off a little. I would like some of those bitches at court to see that a man could love me.’ She bit her lip, straining to hold back the tears.