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Authors: David Weber

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BOOK: Off Armageddon Reef
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“And just as I've seen those visions, I've seen your people. I told Cayleb that what I've seen gives me a good opinion of you, Your Majesty, and it does. In all honesty, and without seeking to curry favor with you, I haven't been given a vision of any other king of Safehold who comes as close as you do to the ideal the Church proclaims. You aren't perfect. Indeed, if you'll forgive me, you're far from it. But you also know you aren't, and, perhaps even more importantly, you've taught your heir to know the same thing. Those qualities, that sense of responsibility, are too rare and precious for me to see them lightly cast aside. I believe the reason I've seen what I've seen has been to bring me here to offer my services, such as they are, to the preservation of this kingdom and the tradition of service its monarchs strive to uphold.”

“The praise of the praiseworthy is especially welcome,” Haarahld said, after another long, thoughtful pause. “I trust you'll forgive me, however, for pointing out that praise and flattery sometimes blur.”

“Especially when the one offering them desires something,” Merlin agreed. “And, to be honest, Your Majesty, I
do
desire something.” Haarahld's eyes narrowed, and Merlin smiled. “I desire to see Charis become all she may become,” he said.

“All she may become,” Haarahld repeated. “Why Charis? Even if everything you've said about my myriad good qualities were accurate, why pick
this
kingdom? It can't be because of any sense of loyalty to my house, since the one thing you obviously aren't is a Charisian. So, if you'll forgive me,
Seijin
Merlin, it must be because of something you want out of Charis. Some goal or objective of your own. And while I'm deeply grateful for your part in saving my son's life, and although only a fool could fail to recognize the value of an adviser who sees what you appear to see, no king worthy of his crown could accept such services without knowing that what
you
want is also what
he
wants.”

Merlin leaned back in his own chair, gazing thoughtfully at the Charisian monarch, then nodded mentally. Haarahld VII was just as tough-minded as Merlin had expected, but there was a hard core of honesty, close to the king's surface. This was a man who could play the game of deception, of bluff and counterbluff, with the best of them, but it wasn't the game he preferred.

Of course, it remained to be seen if Bishop Maikel was equally tough-minded and resilient. Normally, Merlin wouldn't have been very optimistic about that where a bishop of the Church of God Awaiting was concerned, but Maikel was hardly typical of the breed.

For one thing, the king's confessor was a Charisian. So far as Merlin had been able to determine, he'd never left the kingdom in his entire life, except to make his own pilgrimage to the Temple, and he was the highest-ranking native Charisian in the entire archbishopric's hierarchy. Haarahld's choice, ten years before, of Maikel Staynair to be Bishop of Tellesberg, as well as his confessor had,
not
been popular with Archbishop Erayk's predecessor. But Haarahld had clung stubbornly to his prerogative to nominate the priest of his choice to the capital's see, and over the years, Maikel had become a member of the king's inner circle of advisers.

Which could be a good thing…or a very bad thing, indeed.

“Your Majesty,” Merlin said finally, “why did your great-grandfather abolish serfdom here in Charis?”

Haarahld frowned, as if surprised by the question. Then he shrugged.

“Because it's what he believed God wanted of us,” he said.

“But serfdom exists in Emerald,” Merlin pointed out, “and in Tarot, Corisande, and Chisholm. In Harchong, the lot of a serf is little better than that of a beast of the field. Indeed, they treat their draft animals better than they do their serfs, because those animals are more expensive, and in Desnair and Trellheim, they practice outright slavery. Even in the Temple Lands”—he looked up from the king's face to meet Bishop Maikel's eyes with just a hint of challenge—“men are bound to the land of the great church estates, although they aren't
called
serfs. Yet not here. Why not? You say it's not what God wants of you, but why do you believe that?”

“The
Writ
teaches that God created every Adam and every Eve in the same instant, the same exercise of His will through the Archangel Langhorne,” Haarahld said. “He didn't create kings first, or nobles, or wealthy merchants. He breathed the breath of life into the nostrils of
all
men and
all
women. Surely that means all men and all women are brothers and sisters. We may not be born to the same states, in this later, less perfect world. Some of us are born kings now, and some are born noble, or to wealth, or all three. Yet those born more humbly are still our brothers and sisters. If God sees men that way, then so must we, and if that's true, then men aren't cattle, or sheep, or horses, or dragons. Not something to be owned.”

He half-glared at Merlin, and Merlin shrugged.

“And would
you
agree with that, Bishop Maikel?” he asked quietly.

“I would.”

The priest's voice was deep and powerful, well suited to preaching and prayer, and there was a glitter in his eyes. They weren't quite as hard as Haarahld's, but there was no retreat in them, either, and Merlin nodded slowly. Then he looked back at the king.

“Other rulers would appear to disagree with you, Your Majesty,” he observed. “Even the Church feels differently, to judge by her own practices in her own lands, at any rate. But you do believe it. And that, Your Majesty, is my goal, my objective. I believe the same thing you do, and I see no other powerful kingdom which does. I respect you, and in many ways, I admire you. But my true loyalty?” He shrugged once more. “That belongs not to you, or to Cayleb, but to the future. I
will
use you, if I can, Your Majesty. Use you to create the day in which no man owns another, no man thinks men born less nobly than he
are
cattle or sheep.”

Hahlmahn glared angrily at him, but Haarahld only nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.

“And that's the true reason I want Charis not simply to survive, but to prosper,” Merlin said. “Not because I love empire, and not because I crave wealth, or because I confuse military might with the true strength of a kingdom. But while it may not be given to me to see the future, I know what future I would
like
to see. I know what values, what laws, what sort of monarchy, I believe God wants called forth. And at this time, Your Majesty, Charis offers the best hope for the future I would like to see to ever come to pass. Which is why I said from the very beginning that I came not to serve you, specifically, but to serve Charis. The
idea
of Charis, of her future.”

Haarahld drummed lightly on one arm of his chair with the fingers of his right hand, then glanced up at Bishop Maikel.

“Maikel?” he said quietly.

“Sire,” the bishop said without hesitation, “I can quarrel with nothing this man has said. I know your hopes, your aspirations. And I know what it is you most fear.” His fingers stroked his pectoral scepter again, apparently unconsciously, and his nostrils flared. “If I might, Sire?”

Haarahld nodded, and the bishop looked back at Merlin.

“I've never met an actual
seijin
,” he said. “Once in my life I met a man who
claimed
to be a
seijin
, but what he was in reality was a charlatan.”

“Your Eminence,” Merlin said when the bishop paused, “I haven't claimed to be a
seijin
; I've claimed only that I have some of the powers ascribed to
seijin
.”

“I observed that,” Maikel said with a small smile. “Indeed, while I would never claim to be the equal of my esteemed colleagues in the Temple as a theologian, I've engaged in my share of theological debate. And, perhaps as a consequence of that, I was struck by
several
things you didn't say.”

“You were?” Merlin's politely attentive expression never wavered, but internal alarms began to sound as the bishop gazed at him levelly for several seconds.

“According to many of the tales I read when I was younger,” Maikel said finally, “a true
seijin
frequently is known only after the fact, by the nature of his deeds. Others may give him the title; he seldom claims it for himself. The nature of these ‘visions' of yours, however, will strike many as ample evidence that whatever else you may be, you are
not
as other mortal men. So perhaps we can all agree ‘
seijin
' is the word best suited—for now, at least—to describing whatever it is you are.

“But having agreed to that, what are we to make of you and your purposes? That, I'm sure you will agree, is the critical question. And my answer to it is that the
Writ
teaches that the true nature of any man will be shown forth in his actions. It matters not whether that man is a king, a merchant, a
seijin
, or a peasant; in the end, he cannot conceal what he truly is, what he truly stands for. So far, you've saved Cayleb's life. Whether or not God sent you to us for that specific purpose, I don't know. But, in my judgment, it was not the act of one who would serve darkness.”

The bishop looked at his monarch and bent his head in a curiously formal little bow.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “I sense no evil in this man. I may be wrong, of course—unlike the Grand Vicar or the Chancellor, I'm merely a humble, unlettered, provincial bishop. But my advice to you is to listen to him. I know the darkness which is settling about us. Perhaps this man and the services he offers are the lamp”—he touched the embroidered sigil of his order on the breast of his habit—“you require.”

Had Merlin been a being of flesh and blood, he would have let out a long, quiet exhalation of relief. But he wasn't. And so he simply sat, waiting, while Haarahld looked deeply into his confessor's eyes. Then the king returned his attention to Merlin once again.

“And how would you serve Charis?” he asked intently.

“With my visions, as they're given to me. With my sword, as I must. And with my mind, as I may,” Merlin said simply. “For example, I'm certain you've interrogated the one assassin we managed to take alive.”

“That
you
managed to take alive,” Haarahld corrected, and Merlin shrugged.

“Perhaps, Your Majesty. But while I've had no vision of his interrogation—as I say, I see much, but not all—I do know who sent him.”

Hahlmahn and the two Guardsmen leaned slightly forward, eyes intent. Bishop Maikel's bearded lips pursed thoughtfully, and Merlin's smile was cold.

“I know it must have been tempting to lay the blame on Hektor of Corisande,” he said, “but in this case, it would be an error. The men who attempted to kill Prince Cayleb were mercenaries, Desnairians hired by Prince Nahrmahn and…certain others, but Prince Hektor wasn't even consulted, so far as I'm aware.

“Which isn't to say he isn't involved in plots of his own. Indeed, his objection to your assassination, Your Majesty, or Cayleb's, is purely tactical, not a matter of any sort of personal qualm. From what he's said to his own closest advisers and servants and what I've read of his letters to Nahrmahn, he simply believes assassins are unlikely to succeed. And, I think, fears how your kingdom might react if an attempt
did
succeed. He has no desire to meet you ship-to-ship at this time, not yet, and he believes that if Cayleb were killed and you believed Corisande was behind it, that's precisely what he would face. Which is why he prefers to undermine your strength at sea in order to weaken you for a decisive blow by more conventional means. You once called him a sand maggot, not a slash lizard, when you and Cayleb discussed him, and I believe it was an apt description. But in this case, the sand maggot is thinking in more…conventional terms than his allies.”

Haarahld's eyes had grown more and more intent as he listened to Merlin. Now he sat back in his chair, his expression one of wonder.


Seijin
Merlin,” he said, “when I summoned you to this audience, I didn't honestly expect to believe you. I wanted to, which is one reason I was determined not to. But the finest spies in the world couldn't have told you all you've just told me, and every word you've said has been accurate, so far as my own sources are able to confirm. I know someone who's said what you've said here today will understand that despite all of that, your sincerity and trustworthiness must be tested and proved. For myself, as an individual—as Haarahld Ahrmahk—I would trust you now. As King Haarahld of Charis, I can give no man the trust I must give you if I accept the services you offer until he be proven beyond question or doubt.”

“Your Majesty,” Merlin said quietly, “you're a king. It's your duty to remember men lie. That they deceive, and that often revealing a little truth makes the final deception all the more convincing. I don't expect you to accept my services, or even the truth of my visions, without testing thoroughly. And as you test, I beg you to remember this. I've said my service is to Charis and what Charis may become, not to you personally, and I meant it. I'll give you all the truth that lies in me, and the best council I may, but in the end, my service, my loyalty, is to a future which lies beyond your life, beyond the life span of this person you call Merlin, and beyond even the lifespan of your son. I would have you understand that.”


Seijin
Merlin, I do.” Haarahld looked deep into those unearthly sapphire eyes, and his voice was soft. “It's said the
seijin
serve the vision of God, not of man. That any man who accepts the advice of a
seijin
had best remember the vision of God need not include his own success, or even survival. But one of the duties of a king is to die for his people, if God requires it of him. Whatever God's vision for Charis may demand, I will pay, and if you are a true
seijin
, if you truly serve His vision, that's more than sufficient for me, whatever my own future may hold.”

BOOK: Off Armageddon Reef
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