The Palace (Bell Mountain Series #6) (27 page)

In time, everyone got to where they were going. But before any of them did, Gallgoid moved the First Prester to secret quarters in the palace.

Not wanting to use force, or tell an outright lie, he had Constan write a note and hand it to Orth when they were face to face in Constan’s office at the seminary. It was a simple note: “My Lord First Prester, a man will come to see you late tonight. Please go with him, in God’s name.”

“Preceptor, what does this mean?” Orth asked.

“It means what it says, First Prester.”

Any other man would have asked a great many questions, and not gotten many answers. But Orth was not the man he used to be. There were more than a few in Obann who thought he’d gone simple, or at best unworldly to a fault. Constan knew otherwise.

“In God’s name, then, I’ll go,” Orth said.

At midnight Gallgoid found him dressed and sitting in his parlor, waiting. The doors of his house were unlocked, the servants sent to bed.

“Are you the one who was to come for me, as Constan said?”

“I am,” said Gallgoid. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Put this on, then.”

Orth donned a cloak and a broad-brimmed hat that hid his face. He followed Gallgoid to the street, pausing only to lock his front door behind him. He asked no questions—which eloquently proclaimed his trust in Constan, Gallgoid thought.

He led the First Prester a roundabout way by alleys and back streets, and into the palace by way of the stables and a servants’ kitchen. No one saw them. High into the palace he led him, on back stairs and along little-used passageways. Orth once knew quite well the complex layout of the Temple, but he doubted he’d be able to find his way back through the palace. It was almost as big as the Temple used to be and just as labyrinthine. He estimated it was more than an hour before his guide ushered him into a suite of silent rooms high above the city and closed the door behind them. Orth waited passively while the man lit an oil lamp, then closed the shutters on the window.

“My name is Gallgoid,” he said. “I am a servant of the king and a partner with Preceptor Constan. Everything I do, I do in secret. By telling you this much, I’ve given you power to destroy me.”

“I won’t destroy you, Gallgoid.”

“You can take off your cloak and hat, First Prester. For the time being, these are to be your quarters. I’m the only one who knows where you are. Feel free to ask questions.”

“Tell me what you wish me to know,” Orth said.

Gallgoid nodded. He’d never before had any dealings with Lord Orth. Constan said the First Prester was a great man, and a good one. Gallgoid was now inclined to believe it.

“This is being done for your protection, my lord. In another day or two,” he said, “the traitor, Goryk Gillow, will arrive in this city. His master, the Thunder King, has appointed him First Prester at the New Temple in Kara Karram. Merffin Mord and his council intend to recognize his title, replacing you as First Prester—after which you are to be murdered secretly.”

“I have promised to crown King Ryons at his coronation,” Orth said.

“You may, yet,” Gallgoid said. “But the king who’s coming here from Durmurot is not King Ryons, so your promise wouldn’t be fulfilled by crowning him.”

Orth listened in amazement to the tale of how a double was brought in while the real King Ryons escaped to Lintum Forest. “This is the city that betrayed Ozias,” Gallgoid said. “King Ryons isn’t safe here. His throne belongs in Lintum Forest.”

Orth nodded. This was the city that had killed the prophets. He’d had a hand in that, along with Lord Reesh. That God had spared him afterward, and even brought to pass his election as First Prester, was nothing less than a miracle of grace.

“Tell Constan I am content to remain where he and you have placed me,” he said. “God can have my life whenever He sees fit to take it. I have sinned greatly for most of my time upon this earth. Now I obey.”

Gallgoid, who was once Lord Reesh’s favorite poisoner and cats-paw, bowed.

“I, too, First Prester,” he said. “I, too.”

And Orth blessed him.

Baron Bault made hurried preparations for his trip to Obann. He would take with him Kadmel and the twenty best riders among the cavalry, and they would ride hard.

Ellayne pleaded with him. “Father, take me, too—and Wytt! You might need us. You’ll certainly need Wytt, and then you’ll need me to tell you what he says.”

“It’s out of the question, Ellayne.”

But she found an unexpected ally in her mother.

“I think Ellayne should be there when Jack comes back to you,” Vannett said. “I don’t understand these things—and don’t tell me you do, either! But our daughter is God’s servant, as are Jack and Martis. Besides, she’ll be with you. It would break her heart to be left behind.”

“You won’t have to worry about me if I’m with you,” Ellayne added.

All true, Roshay thought. Ellayne and her friend had been snatched practically off his doorstep just a few days ago, so staying in Ninneburky was no guarantee of her safety. The snatchers were still at large. He’d only caught one of them so far.

“I can’t stand against the both of you,” he answered. “But you—” he turned to Ellayne, “are to remain in my sight from the moment we set out until the moment we are back in this house again. Is that clear?”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’ll stick to you like paint on a post.”

Merffin Mord was troubled.

Goryk Gillow was due to arrive the next day, but First Prester Orth would not be there to meet him. No one had seen Orth for the last two days.

“He’s fled,” said Aggo the wine king. “It seems he isn’t as big a fool as we thought, Merffin. Somehow he found out that Gillow is coming, and was wise enough to see the danger to himself.”

Merffin paced back and forth across his study, while Aggo sat and sipped good wine.

“Someone warned him!” Merffin growled. “Someone who knew that Gillow would be coming. And no one knew that but the members of our council.”

“I rather think there must have been others,” Aggo said. “Why should any of us have warned him? We’re all agreed that Gillow must be First Prester, so we can make our peace with the Thunder King. It must have been a servant, or a secretary. Everyone else is all caught up in preparing for the coronation.”

Sitting there as calm as a lizard basking in the sun—he was only doing it to be contrary, Merffin thought. He hated the man, but now he couldn’t do without him. Frustrated, he slammed his fist into his palm.

“He must be found!”

“He won’t be, if he’s fled the city,” Aggo said. “We’ve been looking for him, after all. He left by night without a word to any of his servants. He’s miles away by now. Most likely he’s gone to meet Prester Jod, to warn him not to come here. It won’t be much of a coronation without the king.”

“I’ve sent riders out in that direction and haven’t heard a word of news from them. They should have caught up to him by now.”

“If he hasn’t fled to Jod, he might be anywhere. Who knows? Maybe he’s lost his mind again. It happened once before.”

“If only!” Merffin thought. “It wouldn’t be hard to depose a First Prester who’s gone mad,” he said.

“Which is just the story that would best suit us to put out,” said Aggo. “Most of the clergy know he was mad once. It won’t be hard for them to believe he’s slipped again.”

Merffin stopped pacing. “That’s good—that’s very good indeed! And if no one in Obann ever sees him again, well, that’s a madman for you.” He glared at Aggo. “But he must be found! Found and put out of the way for good.”

“It’s not necessary to belabor the obvious, Merffin. Our men are looking for him. They’re looking everywhere. But you and I would be better employed deciding what we’ll say to Goryk Gillow when he comes.”

CHAPTER 29

Guests and Prisoners

Jack sat with Martis on top of the coach. Closer and closer they drew to the walls and towers of Obann, just barely visible beyond the sprawling ruins of the old city on the south bank of the river. He couldn’t fight off a sense of dread. It hadn’t seemed so bad at the time, but Jack had been in the old city before and he never wanted to go back.

“We’ll never be able to get out of this,” he muttered.

“Yes, we will,” said Martis. “Goryk trusts me to guard you, now that your tutoring is done and you know all about the city. And he trusts his bullies here to guard us.”

The Dahai bodyguards had never seen a city anything like Obann for sheer size and magnificence and couldn’t take their eyes off it. Martis spoke to them in Tribe-talk, which they understood with difficulty.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” he said. “But I think you’ll like this city, lads—if you like strong drink, rich food, and playful women.”

“Too bad we have no money,” said one.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if some money found its way into your hands,” Martis said.

By mid-afternoon they’d crossed the river on the ferry and were in the city. The man-at-arms who let them in when Goryk showed him his safe-conduct pass ordered two men to clear the way for them and conduct them straight to Merffin Mord’s house.

“Welcome, welcome, my lord First Prester!” Merffin said when he came out to greet them. “You’ll find sumptuous quarters waiting for you at the palace, and the members of the council have been summoned there to meet you. But I thought you might first enjoy a little refreshment here.”

Goryk climbed down from the coach, and the two clasped hands.

“I thank you, Chief Councilor,” he said. “After so many friendly letters between us, I feel I know you. My companion in there—” he nodded at the coach, and Zo nodded back from the window—“is Mardar Zo, an emissary of my lord King Thunder. We’d like to go straight to the palace, if you don’t mind.”

“Then I’ll escort you there,” said Merffin. His servants brought out a fragile-looking but elegant one-horse carriage, and their small procession made its way to the palace. Merffin ushered them into the council’s private meeting room, where they waited for the others around the huge and highly polished table. Mardar Zo carried the covered box in his arms and kept a hand on it after he put it on the table.

“What’s that?” Merffin asked.

“A priceless gift for the king,” said Goryk, “but not to be opened until after the coronation.”

When the council had assembled, Merffin made introductions. But of course he didn’t know Martis or Jack.

“This is my personal assistant, Jayce, who has served the Temple all his life,” Goryk said. “As for this boy, you and I will talk about him later, Merffin. And these four men are Dahai warriors, my personal bodyguards.”

“There’s still a lot of work to do before Coronation Day, First Prester,” Merffin said. “The king is on his way from Durmurot with Prester Jod. They should arrive in another three days or so. Meanwhile—”he paused and licked his lips nervously—“the First Prester whom you will replace, Lord Orth, is missing. We’re afraid he’s gone mad. It’s happened before. The poor man is not up to the demands of his position.”

“Hadn’t he better be found?”

“We’ve been looking for him everywhere. He might be wandering the countryside, out of his wits.”

And Jack was thinking, “Traitors all, the whole lot of them—and right here in the heart of Obann!” But so far he hadn’t said a word, and didn’t intend to.