The Tears of the Sun (4 page)

“Yes,” Dmwoski said. “And she really
is
a loyal daughter of Holy Mother Church.”

“Which does not mean she will necessarily defer to a cleric's political opinions, of course,” Ignatius said. “I know her, and believe me, that
is
the case.”

“Nor should she. However, she will not necessarily defer to her
mother's
opinions, either, close as they are. Yet the Association's apparatus is one designed by and loyal to her mother; even when Norman Arminger was Lord Protector she managed the detail work. It is a tool shaped and fitted to her hand. You do quite right to build anew, my son, even in these desperate circumstances. Institutional inertia is a very powerful force—which, as Catholic clerics and heirs to two thousand years of it, is something we should know down in our bones.”

Ignatius nodded. “I am improvising, and pulling in whatever personnel I can from wherever I can get them, but there is method in my madness. It keeps things fluid. And every power in our new Montival is of course fully occupied with mobilization for the campaign to come, down to the littlest autonomous village. If it were not for the fact that all the other powers were jealous of the Association—”

“And each other,” Dmwoski added.

“—and each other, and hence anxious to have their people involved, I could never have pried loose a single clerk.”

“And I am
whatever you can get
as well, my son?”

Ignatius flushed slightly, despite the detached amusement in the Abbot-Bishop's voice.

“I am attending to political tasks His Majesty understandably cannot do in his own person yet recognizes are utterly essential. He must have the support of the realm, and what is that if not a political matter? And for that, I need your help.”

Dmwoski nodded slowly. “Which speaks well of him,” the older cleric said. “I knew he was a very able field commander, but a King requires far more than that. More than a charismatic presence, as well. He must be able to
govern
, or he is a disaster in the making. Especially in a new kingdom without a cushion of institutions and traditions.”

Ignatius spread his hands. “Even before the Sword, his grasp of detail was phenomenal. Since then . . . miraculous. And I mean that in a fairly literal manner, Reverend Father. Yet he can still only be in one place at a time.”

“I presume from the files you sent me that your request has something to do with the problem of the false Church Universal and Triumphant's infiltrations here.”

Ignatius nodded. “Precisely. Most particularly, the matter of House Liu. This is not simply a political matter, either. Their mother's machinations may have begun that way, as a plan to make their brother Odard Lord Protector, but her contacts with the Church Universal and Triumphant quickly became more than that . . . spiritual elements seem to have been involved.”

“Infernal elements, and there is no spoon long enough to sup safely in that company. She went from ally to unwitting tool to
possessed
rather quickly,” Dmwoski said grimly. “I understand that you had direct experience with agents of the CUT.”

Ignatius crossed himself and shivered slightly. “And only by the very great mercy of God and the Virgin was I able to cope with them.”

“You are fortunate, my son. The Queen of Angels has taken a very personal interest in you, and you are hence protected against this . . . filth. For those less armored in Faith it is a contagious foul leprosy of the soul.”

Ignatius blinked at the choice of words. Dmwoski was usually a very temperate man. Then he recalled looking into eyes that were windows into nothing, whose very existence was a wound in the fabric of the world and an invitation to the mortal sin of despair . . .

He shook his head, refusing to be daunted. “The matter of the Liu family is very delicate. Baron Gervais, Odard Liu, was one of our companions on the Quest. By the end of it, at least, he was a
true
comrade; and he saved us all several times.”

“This bureaucratic morass must seem infuriating beyond bearing by contrast!” Dmwoski said.

“Am I so obvious?” Ignatius said. “It is valuable work. And the Quest was . . . often a nightmare. Hunger, thirst, heat, cold, battle and perils, constant fear for my companions, constant worry for those back here at home facing the enemy.”

“A single, comprehensible aim to which you could devote heart and soul; the company of honorable friends who became as dear to you as brothers and sisters; each day a new vista and a new challenge; the inexpressible glory of a direct vision of the Virgin calling you to be
her
chosen knight . . .”

Ignatius laughed. “I
am
so obvious, then! Yes, this is almost squalid by contrast. Absolutely essential, though. And I must
not
let my life be one long declension from a moment of glory. I must make that a beginning and this work also an offering to Him, the Cross I am called to carry up to Heaven's gate.”

Dmwoski nodded. “I do not blame you in the least if you find that difficult. Let difficulty be a spur to effort. And even in your very bare-bones reports, my son, it is obvious that everyone on that quest—with the exception of Baron Odard's traitorous servant Alex—saved each other many times. I was a soldier before I became a monk or a priest; and then after the Change, soldier and monk and priest as well, as you are now. I know the strength of those bonds. The exhilaration of shared danger is not necessarily sinful, so long as it does not become an addiction.”

“Even Alex Vinton saved the Princess . . . the High Queen . . . at least once, though without intending anything but treachery.”

“So does God turn even evil to the service of good,” Dmwoski agreed.

“And I am doing essential work here. Yet it will be a relief beyond expressing if you can lift some of that burden from me. And frankly, the tale of the Quest to Nantucket and the Sword of the Lady is also an important element in rallying support to the new kingdom.”

“What
is
a kingdom, if not a tale that many agree is true? Or a nation, if not a collection of shared stories? To lead is to tell stories through action. To embody them and give them substance. We shape them; and then they shape us.”

Ignatius nodded. “So if we emphasize the, ummm, cleanness and loyalty of the younger generation of House Liu, it will be useful politically. It will also show that the High King is not biased
against
the Association's nobility either. They are half at least of Montival's military power and must be, ummmm, kept sweet.”

“I should be glad to help, my son.”

Ignatius sighed slightly.
I
expected
that, but it is so good to hear it! And the Abbot has always had a gift for dealing with the young.

“I knew a little of these matters as they occurred,” Dmwoski said. “And I have studied the papers you forwarded. The Lady Regent Sandra was always a little obsessive about complete files on every conceivable matter!”

“For which, thank God,” Ignatius said sincerely, and crossed himself again. “This matter is personally important to the High King and Her Majesty as well—they have sworn to protect Baron Odard's younger brother and sister. Her Majesty promised it to him as he lay dying. But it is also important that they gain an overview of how it relates to the larger problem. We
must
defeat the CUT in battle, but in the longer run its remnants will be a severe problem, perhaps even a mortal threat . . . ah, the children have arrived.”

Though they were not really children anymore. Yseult was a striking yellow-haired maiden of seventeen with delicate umber-tinted features very slightly marred by four small deep pinhead-sized scars on the left side of her face, one at the corner of her eye. She wore a plain gray robe and white wimple, the habit of a lay oblate of the Sisters of Compassion. Her long, slanted blue eyes were slightly haunted, and she was limping a little from an injury about which the records told a remarkable story. Huon was younger and darker, fifteen and obviously shooting up, in a page's outfit with the arms of the Barons of Mollala on its chest, the Lion-and-Assegai quartered with the
mon
symbol of House Liu. Both of them looked more than a little apprehensive as their made their curtsy and leg-forward bow respectively, and then turned to kiss the bishop's ring. Their past year had been traumatic, to say the least.

“You are not in trouble, my children,” Ignatius said warmly. “Quite the contrary. I was with your brother Odard for over a year, all the way from Odell to the Sunrise Ocean. The second Baron of Gervais was a very brave man, a loyal comrade and a true knight whose name will live forever when honor's praise is sung, one whom the High King has several times said to me he sorely misses at his right hand. I heard his last confession and administered the Sacraments to him. He died in great hope, and I think that hope was justified. His last request to the Princess . . . High Queen . . . was that she take you under her protection, and that she swore to do.”

The youngsters relaxed a little, though both were still a little wary under impeccable manners.

Their lives have been much disrupted,
Ignatius thought.
Their brother gone, their mother a traitor . . . to God as well as the Realm . . . and unpleasantly dead, themselves under virtual house arrest, and then the direct attack of the CUT's powers. Also the result of their mother's folly, ably abetted by her brother.

“Young lord Huon, I am directed by Their Majesties to assure you that you are confirmed as heir to the Barony and lands of Gervais upon reaching your majority, and that there is no question of attainture for the actions of your mother and uncle. You will understand that the Lady Regent felt this matter had to be reserved for Their Majesties' final judgment.”

“Yes, my lord Chancellor.”

“Furthermore, your education has been severely disrupted by . . . the unfortunate events. Her Majesty is now forming her own household—a riding household, primarily, a fighting
menie
, for the duration of the war. You have completed your time as a page and Lord Chaka gives you excellent recommendations. It would therefore please Her Majesty to take your oath as squire.”

Ignatius folded his hands on the desk and went on gravely: “I can testify from personal experience that Her Majesty is a knight of no mean skill with her own hands, and she will often be in the forefront at the High King's side, or on independent commands of her own. As her squire you would share her perils and her achievements. This is a post of both honor and danger, in which you will be given the opportunity to show what is in you. Do you accept?”

Huon flushed crimson, stammered, nodded wordlessly and then nodded quickly again. It was also a public affirmation of his family's loyalty and a promise of great preferment, if he showed well; a plum position at which any young nobleman would jump.

After a moment he spoke: “Yes, my lord Chancellor, that is, if Lord Chaka agrees. Lord Chaka has been very kind to me when it was, ummm, politically and physically dangerous to be anywhere near me, and I would not desert him.”

“He has given his consent, and”—Ignatius looked down at a letter—“says you show promise and that he wishes he could have been a better master for you as a page, for your brother's sake and your own. Do sit, young man.”

Huon sat, nearly collapsing into the chair and looking rather stunned. Ignatius turned his attention to the boy's sister, standing with her hands modestly clasped before her and obviously happy for Huon.

“My child, I understand that you have a special devotion for St. Bernadette of Lourdes. I take it you do not feel a vocation for the life of a religious, though?”

“No, Father . . . my lord Chancellor. That is, I've wondered, and prayed, but . . . I want to be married and have children and a home of my own someday. Though I've been glad to be useful with the Sisters.”

“It is good that you know your mind and heart,” Ignatius said robustly. “We are not all called to make the same sacrifices and a vocation must be firm and unambiguous; if there is doubt, the answer is
no
. According to your superiors you have worked well and uncomplainingly with the wounded. Her Majesty instructs me to tell you that when matters are more settled—”

When we know we're going to survive the next year as something besides guerillas in the hills,
went unspoken among them.

“—she will take you into her own household as lady-in-waiting. Furthermore, she will settle lands on you from the Crown demesne, several manors, to be held by you in your own right for life as a tenant-in-chief of the Crown, and to descend to the heirs of your body. As to the matter of your marriage, that will be taken under consideration in due course in consultation with you and your brother. There's no hurry; Her Majesty does not approve of early marriages. And in memory of your elder brother, Their Majesties will stand godparents to your children and your brother's, when they come, which God grant.”

It was Yseult's turn to flush and look dazed; she'd been turned from a dubious prospect to a prize catch in one stroke, and given a promise she could take her pick of the suitors she'd eventually have rather than be played as a card in the game of politics. In fact, with manors of her own she could take a landless man if she preferred him. Godparenthood was also something their generation took very seriously indeed; it was called
compadrazgo
in the Association territories, and established lifelong bonds almost as strong as kinship by blood. To have the right to call the High Queen
comadre
was a
cadeau
of incredible value.

Ignatius chuckled slightly. “Don't look quite so stunned, my children. I didn't speak lightly when I said how highly Their Majesties held your brother in their esteem. He is sorely missed in this time of war and trial. He would have been trusted with the most vital missions and highest offices if he had lived.”