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Authors: David Weber

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One or two of the others looked dubious. Not at his analysis of the manufacture and transport of goods. That was something any Charisian understood on an almost instinctual level. Some of them clearly thought Howsmyn's assumptions were overly optimistic, however. Ironhill appeared to be one of them; Gray Harbor and Cayleb did not, and behind his own outwardly expressionless guardsman's face, Merlin frowned thoughtfully. He wasn't certain of Howsmyn's actual numbers. No one on Safehold kept that sort of statistic, so anything Howsmyn said could be no more than an informed estimate. On the other hand, he wouldn't be very surprised to discover that those estimates were, in fact, very close to accurate. No one got as wealthy as Ehdwyrd Howsmyn from international trade without a keen grasp of the realities of finance, shipping, and manufacturing.

And
, Merlin reminded himself,
Charis was already well along the way towards a purely water-powered Industrial Revolution, despite the Church's proscriptions against advanced technology, even before I put in my own two cents' worth
.

“Over the past year and a half or so,” Howsmyn continued, very carefully not looking in Merlin's direction, “our ability to produce goods, especially textiles, quickly and at even lower cost has increased dramatically. No one in Haven or Howard is going to be able to match our productivity for a long time to come, and that assumes that nothing happens”—he was even more careful not to glance at Merlin—“to further increase our manufactories' efficiency. And as I say, even if they could produce the goods we can produce, trying to transport them overland instead of shipping them by water would add enormously to their expenses. No.” He shook his head. “If the Group of Four had succeeded in destroying Charis and our merchant marine, they would have created a huge problem for themselves. It truly would have been a case of killing the wyvern that fetched the golden rabbit.”

“Even assuming all of that's true, that doesn't mean they won't try to do exactly what Ahlvyno's just suggested anyway,” Gray Harbor pointed out, dutifully playing the role of Shan-wei's advocate. “They already tried to destroy us, after all, despite all of the dire consequences you're saying they would have faced as a result.”

“I also admitted that they've already done some spectacularly stupid things,” Howsmyn reminded the earl. “And they
may
try to close their ports to us, as well. But if they do, those ports are going to leak like sieves. There are going to be entirely too many people—including quite a few of the vicars' own bailiffs, for that matter—who want and need our goods for it to work. Not even the Church has ever really been able to control smuggling, you know, and trying to do something like that would be much, much harder than chasing a few independent smugglers.”

“You probably have a point, Master Howsmyn,” Archbishop Maikel said. “However, I suspect the Group of Four—and especially Grand Inquisitor Clyntahn—are, indeed, likely to make the attempt.”

“I bow to your greater familiarity with the Council of Vicars' thinking, Your Eminence,” Howsmyn said. “I stand by my analysis of what will happen if they do, however.”

“Rahnyld of Dohlar's always wanted to increase his own merchant marine,” Bynzhamyn Raice, Baron Wave Thunder, pointed out.

The bald, hook-nosed Wave Thunder had been King Haarahld VII's spymaster. He served Cayleb in the same role, and he seldom spoke up in meetings like this unless it had something to do with those duties. When he did open his mouth, though, he was almost always worth listening to, Merlin thought, and this time was no exception. The King of Dohlar was hemmed in on all sides by much more powerful neighbors like the Harchong Empire and Republic of Siddarmark. His chances of territorial expansion were effectively nil, which was why he'd attempted for years to emulate the maritime prosperity of Charis, instead.

“That was one of the pretensions which made Rahnyld such an enthusiastic supporter of the Group of Four's plans, after all,” Wave Thunder continued. “Well, that and those loans of his from the Church. Under the circumstances, I'm sure the Church would be willing to forgive even more of his loans and actively subsidize his efforts to build up a merchant fleet big enough to cut into our own carrying trade, and the Church has a
lot
of money. If the Group of Four decides to make a major commitment to helping him, he could launch a lot of galleons.”

“Unless my memory fails me, Bynzhamyn,” Lock Island said, “we're still at war with Dohlar, and likely to remain so for quite some time. Something about our demand for Rahnyld's head, I believe.”

Quite a few of the men around the table chuckled at that observation, Merlin noticed.

“Until and unless that state of war is terminated,” the admiral continued, “any Dohlaran-flagged vessel is a legitimate prize of war. And even if, for some reason, peace should disastrously break out between us and Rahnyld, there've always been problems with piracy in the waters around Howard. I'd be astonished if some of those ‘pirates' didn't somehow manage to come into possession of some nice little schooners, possibly even with some of the new guns on board.”

The chuckles were louder this time.

“We're getting too far ahead of ourselves,” Cayleb said. He looked at Howsmyn. “I'm inclined to think your analysis is basically sound, Ehdwyrd. That doesn't mean things won't change, and we've seen for ourselves over the last two years just how
quickly
they can change. Still, I think one of the other points you made is almost certainly valid. Navies are expensive, but as long as we have one and our enemies don't, we don't need a huge army to go with it, so at least we can avoid
that
expense. And under the circumstances, I think we can count on being able to finance the fleet somehow.”

“For now, at least, we can, Your Majesty,” Ironhill conceded. “The funds are there for the thirty additional ships Admiral Lock Island has under construction at the moment, at any rate. We can't lay down many more than that until we've launched the current vessels to clear the building ways, anyhow. But completing those ships is going to effectively finish the total elimination of the treasury surplus your father and grandfather had managed to build up before the current emergency.”

“I understand.” Cayleb nodded.

“Which, if Your Majesty will pardon me,” Lock Island said with greater than usual formality, “brings us to the question of just what we do with the ships we already have while we wait for the new ones.”

“You mean besides keeping a lid on other people's privateers and making certain the Church isn't able to land an overwhelming army to slaughter our people, burn our cities to the ground, and remove all of our heads?” Cayleb inquired mildly.

“Besides that, of course, Your Majesty.”

“Bryahn, I'm perfectly well aware that you want to exterminate Prince Nahrmahn.” There was a slight but unmistakable edge of patient exasperation in Cayleb's tone. “For that matter, I'd rather enjoy the process myself. But the truth is that our own navy consists of less than sixty obsolete galleys and only thirty-four galleons, at least until more of the new construction comes forward and we get the damaged ships back from the repair yards. That's going to leave us stretched dangerously thin if we go after Nahrmahn and Hektor simultaneously.”

“Then let's go after them one at a time,” Lock Island argued with respectful stubbornness. “And since Nahrmahn is the closer, and since we're already blockading Eraystor Bay, let's start with him.”

“I think you're entirely right that we need to go after them one at a time,” Cayleb replied. “Unfortunately, I also think Hektor is the more dangerous of the two. Unless I miss my guess”—it was his turn to avoid looking in Merlin's direction—“he's already laying down and converting as many galleons of his own as he can. And if Black Water's reports on our new artillery got home to him, he's going to know how to arm them effectively, as well. He'll have to start from scratch with the new guns, but I trust no one in this room is foolish enough to think Hektor is stupid or that his artisans and mechanics have been stricken with some sort of mysterious incompetence overnight. Nahrmahn doesn't begin to have Hektor's building capacity and foundries, so if we're going to go after one of them, we need to start with Corisande, not Emerald. And then there's that little matter of the army we don't have. Taking islands away from Nahrmahn and sealing off Eraystor is one thing; finding enough troops to put ashore to take the
rest
of his princedom away from him is going to be something else, I'm afraid.”

Lock Island looked moderately rebellious, and he wasn't the only one who felt that way, Merlin decided.

“In Bryahn's support, Your Majesty,” Wave Thunder said, “don't forget who it was that tried to have you assassinated.” Cayleb looked at him, and the spymaster shrugged. “He tried it
before
you and your father completely destroyed his navy; now that he doesn't have one anymore, there has to be even more pressure to consider … unconventional measures. If we give him long enough, he's likely to try it again.”

“Then it's just going to be up to you and the Guard”—this time Cayleb did glance at Merlin—“to see to it that he
fails
again, Bynzhamyn.”

“That may not be quite as simple a matter as we'd all prefer, Your Majesty. In fact, that's part of what I want to discuss with you later,” Archbishop Maikel said, and all eyes turned to him. “Before, Nahrmahn was forced to hire mercenaries, professional assassins, if he wanted you or your father dead,” the archbishop continued. “Today, alas, there are far more potential assassins in Charis than ever before. Indeed, protecting you against
Nahrmahn's
efforts to murder you may be the least of the Guard's concerns.”

And that
, Merlin thought,
is probably an understatement
.
Unfortunately
.

The majority of Cayleb's subjects strongly supported their youthful king and his new archbishop in his confrontation with the Church of God Awaiting. They knew precisely what the Church—or, at least, the “Group of Four” which actually created and manipulated the Church's policies—had intended to happen to their kingdom and their families when they chose to break Charis' power once and for all by turning it into a wasteland of slaughtered people and burned towns. They supported the scathing indictment Maikel had sent to Grand Vicar Erek in their collective name, for they'd made a clear distinction between God Himself and the corrupt, venal men who controlled the Church.

But if the majority of Charisians felt that way, a significant minority did not, and almost a quarter of the kingdom's clergy were outraged and furious at Cayleb's “impious” challenge to the Church's “rightful, God-given authority.” It would have been nice if Merlin had been able to convince himself that all of those people who disapproved were just as corrupt and calculating as the Group of Four themselves. Unfortunately, the overwhelming majority of them weren't. Their horror at the thought of schism within God's Church was completely genuine, and their outrage at the ruler who'd dared to raise his hand against God's will sprang from a deep-seated, totally honest faith in the teachings of the Church of God Awaiting. Many—
most
—of them saw it as their sacred duty to resist, by any means they could, the abominations King Cayleb and Archbishop Maikel sought to impose upon the kingdom.

For the first time in living memory, there was an actual, significant,
internal
threat to the life of a king of Charis, and Staynair's regretful expression showed that the archbishop understood exactly why.

“I know, Maikel,” Cayleb said. “I know. But we can't undo what we've already done, and even if I thought it was what God wanted, we couldn't turn back from the journey we've begun. Which doesn't mean”—he looked back at Wave Thunder—“that I want any mass arrests. I've never been very fond of iron heels, and I can't convince people who hate and fear what they think I'm doing that they're wrong about my policies or the reasons for them if I start right out trying to crush every voice of disagreement.”

“I've never suggested that we ought to, Your Highness. I only—”

“His Majesty is right, My Lord,” Staynair said quietly, and Wave Thunder looked at him.

“It's the question of conscience, of the relationship between each individual human soul and God, which stands at the heart of the Group of Four's hostility towards us,” the archbishop continued in that same firm, quiet voice. “Trynair and Clyntahn, each for reasons of his own, are determined to preserve Mother Church's total control over the thoughts, beliefs, and actions of all of God's children. They've seen fit to dress their ambition in the fine clothes of faith and concern for the salvation of souls, to pretend they're motivated only by priestly duty, and not the obscene wealth and decadent lives they live, when, in fact, their own arrogance and corruption have turned Mother Church herself into a tool of oppression and greed.

“We know that.” He looked around the suddenly quiet council chamber. “We've seen it. And we believe we're called by God to oppose that oppression. To remind Mother Church that it's the
souls
of God's people which matter, and not the amount of gold in her coffers, or the personal power and wealth of her vicars and the luxury in which they live. But to do that successfully, we must remind all of Mother Church's children of those same things. We cannot do that by resorting to oppression ourselves.”

“With all due respect, Your Eminence,” Wave Thunder said into the stillness which seemed only deeper and quieter as thunder rumbled and rolled once more in the distance, “I don't disagree. But, by the same token, we can't protect the King if we're not willing to act strongly and publicly against those who would destroy him. And if we lose the King, we lose everything.”

BOOK: By Schism Rent Asunder
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