Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03 (22 page)

Stand with us. Let us have no quibbles of old women and charms in the marketplace, when your temporal lord could well use your prayers.”

“His Grace is Sihhë,” the patriarch said in a faint voice, as if that argued all; and perhaps it did: Tristen heard, and knew that, Prince Efanor’s little book availing what it could, this man had set him on the side which that little book called
evil
.

“I shall never,” Tristen said, “work any sorcery, sir. And these women are not our enemy,” he added, to have that clear. “I read your book of devotions. His Highness gave it to me. Doesn’t it say that the gods made all the world and the rain and the mountains? So surely they made Sihhë, too.”

He had hoped to turn the patriarch’s sure conviction at least to some doubt; and saw that he had had effect, at least that the patriarch seemed taken aback. So did Emuin, which warned him that it might not be the effect he had hoped.

“His Grace will attend the matter,” Emuin said. “I assure you no Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

sorcery will have effect in this town, nor anywhere His Grace can find it. He may be Sihhë: that remains unproven; he is certainly Mauryl Gestaurien’s successor, legitimate and a friend to the realm, and will not permit harm to the souls or substance of honest folk.”

“These things bring no good fortune,” the Quinalt father said.

“His Grace can have little sympathy in such practice, himself, but for the sake of the common folk of this town who have no commerce with wizards and who petition me with prayers for the safety of their souls, I beg you ask His Grace, since you have influence with him, to honor His Majesty’s well-thought and reasonable laws and forbid the display of such symbols.”

“Difficult, since the ducal arms contain them, at His Majesty’s gift.”

The patriarch drew in a breath. “Within the religious context, sir!”

“No common coin will damn any of your flock, father, nor lead any astray to Bryalt beliefs except they be Bryaltine from the cradle, which Your Reverence must admit is tolerably common in Amefel.”

“I beg you take this seriously,” the Quinalt father said. “And lead His Grace at least as strait and seemly a path as may be.”

“His Grace has all manner of favor in His Majesty’s eyes,
and

the approval of the Holy Father in Guelemara, who blessed him at his oath-giving, and commended him to Your Reverence’s hands in all good faith. I will tell you, brother, for fair judgment Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

and care of your flock’s rights and dues, and for keeping the less savory influences… wizardous and sorcerous alike… from out of the dangerous marches westward, you should be grateful to him.

There’s none of the haunts and unhallowed goings-on as
might

find opportunity here, considering the very injudicious activities of Her now deposed Grace Orien Aswydd.”

“We have never countenanced Her Grace’s doings.”

“Well enough, since she let the very fiend into the apartment His Grace has now warded beyond any opportunity for such maleficent spirits. I’ve tested his wards, and they are subtle and wonderfully made… should you wish to know?”

“I do not!” It was strange to stand to the side and hear himself discussed and argued about. But now the Quinalt father looked at him with a wide and distraught stare, and matters had gone askew from what was prudent, and at Emuin’s hands, none other.

“Sir,” Tristen said with a nod and a will to placate this distressed man, “if I have done anything amiss, I will always hear you, and tell me, tell me if I do wrong. I don’t think Cefwyn ever feared the women in the marketplace, and I know there’s no sorcery that I can feel. But if you have misgivings, I’ll certainly walk there myself and see if there’s any cause for alarm.”

“Your Grace. In your gifts, in your observance of protocols, I find no fault. But I doubt Your Grace will take alarm in such small matters as frighten my flock.”

That last was pointed and sharp-edged: he was not so naïve as to Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

miss it. “His Highness instructed me and gave me a book of devotions. He said it was good I read it, and find the gods, and avoid evil. I agree. I by all means wish to avoid evil.” He had asked himself why the priest came to him now about the market just when the market and the grandmothers had entered his concern, and if it was not magic that made the connection, it was Men. “There was a boy, wasn’t there, Your Reverence?”

“A boy.”

“It was mischief for Paisi to steal a soldier’s kit, but it was greater mischief for that man to come to you and suggest there was something amiss in the market, when the truth was that he wished someone to die for the theft, when it wasn’t even his kit, as I understand: it belonged to a man of the Dragon Guard.”

“I know nothing of any of this, Your Grace!”

“Didn’t a soldier come to you?”

“He by no means told me about any boy.”

“I doubt he did. But you should ask him what the truth is.”

“Your Grace,” the patriarch said, as if he had taken a dismissal in that, his case in disarray and his words turned back on him. But the patriarch blessed himself with a gesture, as Uwen would when he saw wizardry or magic. Clearly the patriarch wished to leave, and Tristen wished just as strongly that this priest would go away. “I shall ask, Your Grace.”

And with a bow and a murmured courtesy, the man edged toward the door until, with a second bow, he was out it.

Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

“Uwen,” Tristen said.

“M’lord.”

“I’ll speak to that soldier. The sergeant.”

“Aye, m’lord.”

“I could almost tell you the man’s name,” Emuin said. “And you’re quite right, young lord: it wasn’t piety that moved His Reverence. Well guessed, and I guess exactly as you do, with small wizardry about it—but I fear His Reverence believes you just worked sorcery and stole it out of his thoughts. You’ve frightened that man. And you’ll frighten the man you bring in to question, never doubt it.”

“I guessed, sir. It was not by magic.”

“Damned for the one time it wasn’t,” Emuin said. “But in the Guelen garrison, there’s a captain who doesn’t want to be in this town or in this province. He followed Parsynan’s orders and had them overthrown, and hasn’t been happy since, if you want my further guess. And that sergeant and no few of his men think like him. I may live in my tower, but I’m not deaf to what goes on in the yard.”

“I wish the patriarch were in Guelessar,” Tristen said, “if I could choose. But the soldiers in the garrison wouldn’t be happy without him. I wish I might send the sergeant and all those men back to Guelessar, but he’d be at Ryssand’s ear, do I understand how he would act? I think I do.”

“I fear ye understand very well,” Uwen said, “an’ master Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

Emuin’s right, too. I’d have set that sergeant to the watch on the bridges, an’ let the troublemaker tell ’is notions to them as has no way to send back to Ryssand, but soldiers is in a surly enough state in winter, wi’ nothin’ to do but pass rumor, as is. There’d be toads rainin’ from heaven in the rumors they’d have about ye, m’lord, an’ wi’ the captain of the Guelens, too, who, by me, ain’t any better. I’ve tried to reason wi’ this man, and I know this sergeant. I wisht I’d found a place to set this fellow where he couldn’t find mischief. I’m sorry it got to His Reverence.”

“I wish I might send all the men home.”

“An’ defend the land wi’ Ivanim?” Uwen asked.

“That is the choice,” he said. They equally well knew the choices he did have. The Amefin villages would have a hard winter, a harder spring and famine in the fall if he mustered the men to winter camp. For half a century the king’s law had allowed no establishment of men-at-arms in Amefel, entrusting the defense of the province to the Aswyddim’s personal guard, and to a garrison of Guelen Guard, of the four Guelen companies the roughest and commonest. Now at urgent need and with the Aswydd guard fled across the river or back to their local lords for fear of Cefwyn’s justice, Amefel had no men of its own but an irregularly armed peasant muster that belonged to the earls, and them needing to do their planting and lambing at the time the army would be engaged across the river.

Therefore, among other reasons, he had retained the Guelen Guard. But now he had evidence of Guelen disaffection, not an Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

unreasonable discontent: the weather had turned, they were held here against expectation and in disgrace from their service with Parsynan, and now faced with the rise of Amefin to positions of authority, when it was Amefin they had once held in check as Parsynan’s iron fist. They were not the guard he would have chosen. Was he at fault? Might another lord have managed better than he had done?

Certainly Parsynan had not improved these men; and Uwen had pleaded for them, saying only a better lord could redeem them.

They were Uwen’s old company; and they, Uwen argued, had been misused and misled.

“I will speak to their captain,” he concluded. “Privately.”

“You should do so,” Emuin said, “privately. But you see the seed of discontent in these men, young lord, and it comes of slighting them.”

“My slighting them?”

“And no few of the lords and burgesses. Where might they learn anything of your intent except from rumor? Become approachable. Hold audience. Do more in public.”

“I speak with a half a score of them every time I venture the hall.” He had rarely failed to answer chance questions, and on this he was very sure he was on firm ground. “I speak to soldiers and to workmen and servants in the kitchen. All these folk, as well as to the lords. I answer their questions.”

“Yet make all decisions in chambers. Therein
you
are at fault.

Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

You asked advice:
now
I advise you.”

“I’ve called the earls for supper.”

“Hold audience beforehand and hold it today. This is where you fail. The people believe in you while the sun shines and they have enough to eat; but when things go harder, they have to

know
their lord to follow him. Worship is not enough, young lord. Care for their concerns. Care for their fears. Hear the quieter voices. We have His Reverence on our doorstep with rumors and accusations; but what more should you hear? You must sit a certain time every day in the great hall, no more of this dealing in the hallways of the Zeide and granting this and granting that to the loudest and most importunate. You’ll miss the quiet and the desperate. Yes, ride out to the villages, and hear them as well.

And don’t neglect Henas’amef and your own court.”

“His Grace already don’t sleep enough,” Uwen said. “Where’s he to rest?”

“And you, Uwen Lewen’s-son, you have your own fault in this!

You are not Lord Tristen’s body servant or his guard… you are his
captain
. Give me no excuses: take command of the Guard, march them up and down until they have no breath for gossip.”

“Uwen does very well,” Tristen said.

“Well is not good enough. And
you
, young lord, must be approachable for your people other than in the hallways, or prepare to do the business of the province there, on every chance approach and by all comers. You should
never
have been Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

summoned by His Reverence to come down to hall, as if you were some truant lad with a lesson to read. I find it outrageous in him, and I find you far too accommodating of approach on the one hand and far too secret and unapproachable on the other.

What you will tell to the earls separately, tell to them all in common council. Hear debates, once and together, not once for each man. Sit in state, and let petitioners see how their business weighs against other appeals to Your Grace’s resources. If the matters they bring are trivial, they may take shame of it and ask less. Two problems may be each other’s answer. And I will tell you
Cefwyn
could benefit by that advice. He cannot rule from his chambers. Indeed he cannot. He avoids the likes of Ryssand by shutting himself in chambers, but he fails to hear the town reeve, and this with a war in the offing. He is the
worst
example.”

“Have you told him so?”

“I told his father, who had the same fault: oh, deal with every man in private, tell one man one thing, another the other, and thus Lord Mistrust rules all! Idrys, the most furtive man alive,

Idrys
concurs with me in this.

Ylesuin cannot have the ghost of the last king presiding over it, no more than Amefel can have Suspicion for a duke and Rumor for leader of its armies. You have His Reverence listening to sergeants of the Guard and soldiers whispering with the gate-guard, and gods alone know what tales they obtain from the kitchens. But fault none of them until you demand and they refuse. Captain Anwyll and his command left yesterday to sit and Fortress of Owls - C.J. Cherryh - Fortress 03

endure the snow on the river… good riddance, say I. Anwyll will never say good morning but he asks permission for it of someone. Of him I expect nothing but good compliance; but
you
, Uwen Lewen’s-son, you’ve waited last night and all morning long and not seized the Guelens and shaken them into order.

Seize command
!”

“Aye, sir.”

“And, young lord, duke of Amefel, until you assemble your court and rule it with a firm hand, I look for you to be a profound concern to your captain, who knows your kind civility with fools.

Lordship does not bind you to give away the treasury or to consent to every request. I saw hope in Lewen’s-son last night; I see it today. What of you?”

“Is that why now you advise me, when since summer Cefwyn and I alike have asked and asked and gotten nothing? Can you fault
me
, sir, when of
your
advice I’ve had precious little come down from the tower? You say I should leave my chambers and sit in hall. Cannot you come down and stand by me?”