Inheritance (9 page)

“Just as well,” Orkid said, suddenly serious. “You are in the heart of the kingdom, now, and the Kendrans do not like being reminded other gods are worshiped in their realms. They are so certain in their power they believe their own deity is the single, true creator.”

“They do not let you pray to the Lord of the Mountain?” Amemun asked.

“As long as I refer to him as God, and by no other title, they are pleased to turn a blind eye to my worship, pretending that I have conformed.”

Amemun nodded, but his expression showed his displeasure. He had little time for such self-righteousness. “Then you must learn the trick,” he told Sendarus.

“Surely we will not be staying long enough for it to matter,” Sendarus said lightly, making nothing of the glance exchanged between Orkid and Amemun.

“You must be tired,” Orkid told the prince. “My secretary will show you to a room where you can rest, and in the meantime I will arrange for proper chambers to be prepared and notify the queen’s private secretary that you have arrived.”

Sendarus was about to object, not feeling the slightest bit tired and eager to see something of the kingdom’s capital, the greatest city in the world, but he saw Amemun looking at him with his grave brown eyes and knew the sights and sounds of Kendra would have to wait.

“As you say, Uncle.”

“Where are your servants and baggage?”

“Still with our ship.”

Orkid called in his secretaries and gave instructions. Two of them bustled out to collect his guests’ retinue and belongings. The third led Sendarus to Orkid’s own chambers to rest.

“So Marin had decided that his own son should be unaware of his part in Kendra’s future?” Orkid asked Amemun after all had left.

Amemun refused to meet Orkid’s gaze. “The future is so uncertain, Orkid. The king did not want Sendarus’ hopes raised.”

Orkid sighed deeply. “Old friend, I know when you are lying. You cannot meet me in the eye, and you sound apologetic.”

“I never sound apologetic!” Amemun declared hotly, and having declared it lost all his huff in an instant. “Well, when I’m apologizing for others, perhaps I do,” he conceded.

“So what is the truth?”

“When I said earlier that the prince’s head is full of foolish notions, I was not being sarcastic. Marin is afraid his son would refuse a role he felt was dishonorable in any fashion.”

“We can’t let nature take its course. If Aman’s dreams are to be realized, we must all take our part whether or not it brings us honor.”

“The king has no intention of letting nature take its course. He wants you to dig a furrow for it.”

“Ah.” Orkid stood up and went to his window. He beckoned Amemun to join him. “Do you see the size of this palace? Its population almost equals that of Pila itself. I can dig a hundred furrows, but in Usharna’s court they would be no more than scratches on the surface.”

“Nevertheless, the king does not want Sendarus told of his part in our plans.”

“Then the sooner we introduce him to the queen and her family the better,” Orkid said.

“How much time do we have?”

“Before the queen dies? It could be tonight or next week, or next month. She is the strongest person I have ever known, but she is very ill.”

“And how long after her death before the first part of the plan is put into effect?”

“As soon as possible.”

“The pieces are all in place?”

Orkid nodded. “Assuming nothing unexpected happens between now and then.”

Amemun looked alarmed. “What do you mean? Surely the opposition would not move before the queen’s death?”

“Against the queen herself? Of course not. But against us or those perceived as our allies? It has already happened. Disaster was averted only by good fortune, and that none of my doing. You must understand, Axnemun, now is the most dangerous time for the plan, not what comes after the queen’s death—that is only when it is most dangerous to us.”

Areava felt listless. She wandered about the palace like a ghost, through its great halls and rooms, its balconies and towers, its gardens and enclosures. At every window she paused to look out, seeing the great city spread out before the palace like a tapestry, catching glimpses of the harbor or Kestrel Bay beyond it, or seeing the craggy heights of Ebrius Ridge or even sometimes seeing the mountains of distant Aman.

Of their own accord, her feet led her eventually to the courtyard, and from there to the palace’s west wing, now the priory for the Church of the Righteous God. Priests bowed to her as she walked by, but knew from her expression not to talk to her. She passed sleeping cells and the royal chapel, confessionals and the refectory. Eventually her journey ended in the church library.

This place and not the chapel is closest to God
, Areava thought. She was surrounded by ranks of books and manuscripts, old wooden shelves and reading desks, the smell of ancient dust and earnest study. Here she felt a part of the quest for knowledge, a quest more holy than any other she could imagine because it implied a quest for truth irrespective of its beauty or desirability. She could feel peace in the chapel, contentment in the palace gardens, but here, among all this gathered learning, she felt most alive and in the presence of something sacred.

Areava selected a tall, thin book from a shelf and sat down in one of the study cubicles to read it. It was an atlas and geographical commentary compiled over a hundred years before by Brother Agostin, one of the church’s most famous missionaries. Her finger traced the outline of the continent of Theare, from its northern shores around the nation of Haxus, and then along the east coast past Hume and Chandra and the Horn of Lear—where sat Kendra—down to the swollen belly of Lurisia in the south, and then west along the desert plains of the Southern Chetts before heading north past the Oceans of Grass—the home of the Northern Chetts—and back to Haxus. In the top right corner of the page was the unfinished outline of the Far Kingdom, a place of mystery and danger, never visited by any from Grenda Lear. The Sea Between was too wild and unknown for anyone to cross it, and any who were foolish enough to try disappeared without a trace. The coastline in the atlas was conjecture only, shaped by rumor and legend.

She wished she could absorb all the knowledge of the book by touching it like this, and so in her own lifetime read every volume within the library. She sighed. The things she wanted most were never possible.

“I thought I would find you here,” said a light voice behind her.

Areava did not turn, but smiled and said: “You have never had any trouble finding me, even when I did not know where I was myself. You know me better than I do.”

Father Giros Northam, Primate of the Church of the Righteous God, pulled over a chair and sat down next to the princess. He craned his long, wattled neck to see what book she had out. “Agostin! How wonderful! I read him often. I have always hoped that one of my brethren would fancy taking up his walking staff and traveling his road. The map could do with more detail, and the commentary undoubtedly needs updating. Alas, these days the brethren are all too spiritual for such a mundane and secular task. They prefer chanting in the chapel and preaching in the pulpit.”

“I wish I could take up the task,” Areava said. She touched the map again, imagining herself on the road without responsibility or care.

“Perhaps one day you will,” Father Northam said gently. He was a large man, big-boned, with the largest feet and hands Areava had ever seen on any man. Grey eyes regarded her affectionately.

Areava shook her head. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

“I suppose every book you read takes you on a journey of some kind.” Areava said nothing. “Why are you here now?”

“To read your books, Father.”

“Perhaps. But sometimes you come here because you are troubled. This is your refuge and your confessional. What is troubling you?” Areava shook her head. “If you do not tell me, I cannot help you.”

“I cannot lie to you.”

“That is not an answer.”

Areava stood up and replaced the atlas on its shelf. “It’s the only one I can give you.”

Before she could leave, Father Northam caught her arm. “When you were only five years old, I found you here. Your father had died, and instead of mourning with the rest of your family you came here to hide away from the world, and you looked as if you carried all its troubles on your young shoulders. I look at you now and see that five-year-old girl again. You know you can tell me what is wrong. I have always been your friend, Areava, and never your confessor.”

“Perhaps it is a confessor I need. But Father Powl would not understand either.”

“My secretary is a very understanding man, Areava. That is why I assigned him to you.”

“You know more about me than you do about your own secretary. Father Powl is a great scholar, but as a confessor he listens too little and holds forth too much.”

The priest looked bemused. “For God’s sake, child, what is it you think you have done?”

“It is what I have not done, and am afraid to do, that is my sin.”

“You cannot sin through omission. God the Righteous understands us well enough to forgive our desires and condemn only our actions.”

Areava gently eased the priest’s hand from her arm. “It is a sin I may still commit. We who are born to rule must sometimes carry out mean actions to achieve great things. It is our privilege and our curse.”

“That was glib coming from you.” Areava breathed in sharply. He had never spoken so hard to her before. “Forgive me, your Highness, but we read many of the same books. Those were not your words, but those of your grandfather. Old Duke Amptra held convenient opinions about right and wrong but thankfully was never in a position to put them into practice. Do not make the mistake of thinking that his noble rank gave him a noble mind. Look instead to your mother, the queen, for your model.”

Areava blanched, as if she had been slapped. The priest’s words struck deeper than he knew. Her grandfather may never have had an opportunity to put his ideas into practice, but his son Tafe—her father—did. No one ever talked to her or Olio about their father except in the most general and cautious terms, but through the books she had read, through the gossip and careless remarks she had overheard and by diligently applying her intelligence to the mystery, she had slowly discovered the dark truth. In that terrible civil war between the throne and the Slavers, her father had played one side against the other to further the interests of his family. When his duplicity was discovered, Usharna confronted him and forced his confession using the Keys of Power. By the time she had finished with him, he was nothing more than a smoking, burned-out hulk. Two immediate results had been the dramatic reduction in the influence of the Twenty Houses, which the Amptra family led, and soon after Usharna’s marriage to Lynan’s father, Elynd Chisal.

“Ah, I see now.” Father Northam’s words broke her reverie. He smiled sadly. “You are afraid of losing Usharna. That is why you have come to the library today. Here you can enter all the worlds in these books, all the histories and all the legends, and in none of them must you ever confront the mortality of your own mother.”

Areava laughed bitterly. “Her mortality? It is her heritage that makes me afraid, Father. She leaves behind a kingdom that is entirely loyal to her but not to the throne.”

Father Northam looked at her blankly. Areava shook her head in frustration. “When she dies, she takes with her all the goodwill owed her, Father. The merchants and generals and magickers and even the church will not know where they stand when Berayma becomes king. Nor will any of the kings and queens who come under Kendra. Only the Twenty Houses will be sure of their position, for Berayma has made clear where at least some of his sympathies lie.”

“But, Areava, why should anyone want things to change? There is peace in the kingdom now, and there will be peace in the kingdom after Usharna. Berayma will not change the good administration she established. You know he will rule fairly.”

Areava shook her head. “For the kingdom’s wisest man, you understand so little of the real world. With a new ruler, everyone will try to maneuver closer to the throne, to benefit themselves and their friends. Queen Charion will try to take trade from King Tomar, the merchant guilds will try and reduce the influence of the theurgia, Haxus will try and take a bite from our northern territory…”

“Your mother went through the same turmoil when she first ascended the throne, and came through it,” Father Northam argued. “So will Berayma. The people will not want to destroy the prosperity they enjoy.”

“There will always be those disgruntled with the share they receive. When my mother became queen, she was forced to marry into the Twenty Houses. There was no center of resistance, no rallying point. But this time there will be. This time there will be Lynan.”

“Lynan?” Father Northam said, obviously surprised. “This is about
Lynan
?”

“Am I the only one who can see how destabilizing it will be for Berayma to have Lynan at a loose end, an heir to the throne whose father was a commoner and a soldier? Lynan will become the focus of every disgruntled citizen and every conspiracy.”

“He is so young, so… so
uninterested
in being the center of anything, let alone a conspiracy against the throne.”

“It does not need his compliance. His very existence is enough.”

“But, Areava, you said yourself that his father was a commoner. The people won’t follow him, or pay attention to anyone else trying to raise him up.”

Areava sighed deeply. “Do you know what will happen to the Keys of Power on Berayma’s succession?”

“He will inherit them with the throne—”

Areava shook her head. “Your Father Powl could tell you. He understands the politics of the palace far better than you.”

“I am not Prelate because I understand politics—” he started to reply.

“Exactly. That is why my mother allows you to hold the office. She does not want a prelate who plays at politics as well as religion.”

Father Northam opened his mouth to object, but stopped himself before he made the lie. Of course that was why Usharna had given him her support. He had known this ever since the queen had allowed the church to base itself within the palace walls, but it was a truth he hid behind what he believed was the greater worth of his faith, their work among the poorest of Kendra’s people, and their quest for knowledge from all corners of the queen’s kingdom.