The Office of Shadow (5 page)

"Here," he said. "This'll take the edge off."

Silverdun took a pull from the flask and was rewarded with a swallow of
some of the best brandy he'd ever tasted. "The queen's tits, Father, where did
you get this?"

Estiane smiled. "We all have our little secrets, Silverdun. Do you think
I'd still be running this place after all these years if I didn't have a few strings
to pull?"

Silverdun nodded and took another sip.

"You've pissed off Tebrit again, I see," said Estiane.

"Not a difficult task."

"Missed morning prayers, did you?"

"I think it was the hangover in particular that got me sent up to you."
Silverdun shrugged. "Just between you and me, I don't think Tebrit likes me
much."

Estiane waved the thought away. "Nonsense. Tebrit is simply fulfilling his
obligations as Prior to ensure that your novitiate is a period of cleansing, separating you from the things of the world in as complete a fashion as possible."

He took the flask back from Silverdun and had a nip from it himself
before returning it to the desk. "Oh, who am I kidding? The man despises
you. And with good reason."

"I don't think it's very holy of him to take such pleasure in it." Silverdun
sniffed.

"Allow the man his small comforts. He has a very difficult and thankless
job. Believe it or not, you're far from the least holy novice that's ever passed
through this temple."

"Oh, really?"

"I was much worse. Why, during my novitiate I actually snuck a pair of
twin sisters into the sacristy and got them drunk on the holy wine."

Silverdun slapped the desk. "You cad! And they still ordained you?"

"They never found out."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Silverdun said. "Well, I suppose
you've got to punish me. Garderobes for a month, is it?"

"Two, actually. One for missing morning prayers and one for drinking in
the presence of your abbot." Estiane smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Ha!
Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"You old bastard. How you ever got to be a religious leader is beyond me."

"It's simple, really," said Estiane, leaning forward, the smile fading. "Look
around you. Do you see any parishioners? Any lost souls other than your own
coming to me for spiritual guidance? I'm a civil servant. If I was any good at
being religious then I'd be out there practicing religion." Estiane sighed.
"Being promoted to abbot isn't a reward; it's more of a punishment, really."

Silverdun felt his body finally beginning to warm in the lovely heat of
the brazier. "Ah, so you say. But I knew Vestar at the Temple Aba-E in
Sylvan. A more holy man I've never met in my life!"

What remained of Estiane's smile vanished and he looked down. "Oh,
you had to bring the old man into it, didn't you, Silverdun? Just when I was
having such a lark with you.

"Sometimes we in this business put on a bit of a blasphemous face when
we can in order to fend off the ills of the world with good humor. We're all
corrupt in the eyes of Aba, who sees all. But some of us hew very, very close
to the ideal. Some of us are so strong that they don't need any robe betwixt
them and the wind. Vestar was one of those."

"So you admit you're a lousy abbot," said Silverdun, smirking.

"I admit no such thing!" said Estiane. "Vestar was a saint. It's just that
there are more churches than there are saints, that's all. We do the best we
can with the gifts we're given. Most of us are forced to make compromises in
order to maintain our sanity. The fact that Vestar never did so is a testament
to his unique virtue."

"His unique virtue got him murdered," said Silverdun. "He stood up to
Purane-Es when he could have run and saved himself."

"There's that," said Estiane. "There's that."

"Will that be all then?" asked Silverdun. "Or do you have any pies or custards hidden back there that I might have a bite of before I head down to the
Frater for my morning gruel?"

"As if I'd share my pie with you," Estiane said, adjusting his robe.

Silverdun stood to go, and the abbot waved him back down again.
"Listen, Silverdun. Since I've got you here, there's something I've been
meaning to discuss with you."

"If it's twin sisters you're after, I'll need a few days and the key to the sacristy," said Silverdun.

Estiane said nothing; all the humor had left him.

Silverdun pulled his robes around him. "Well, what is it then?"

"I've been debating whether or not to mention it at all, but I suppose it's
best if I do. I've received word that Lord Everess would like to speak with
you."

Silverdun sat up. "Really? And how does Everess even know that I'm
here? Isn't my presence here supposed to be something of a sacred trust?"

"Settle down, Silverdun. You must be aware that Lord Everess knows
what he wants to know. The truth is, I told him you were here."

Silverdun scowled. "Why would you do such a thing, Abbot? I don't
want to be involved in the affairs of the world. I just want to be left alone.
That's why I came here in the first place."

"Yes, and that's the wrong reason for coming here, and that's also why
you're such a rotten novice. If it's solitude you're after, there are any number
of uninhabited islands in the Western Sea you could have chosen."

"I want to follow Aba," said Silverdun weakly.

"A man can enjoy telling a joke without joining the circus, Silverdun."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because you want to please Aba doesn't mean you
have to become a monk. And you know it."

"Enough, enough. What does any of this have to do with Everess? What
does he want with me?"

"I'll let him tell you," said Estiane. "And I suggest you hear him out.
Now shall I let him know you agree to see him, or shan't I?"

Silverdun thought in silence. The fog in his head was lifting, but his
mind didn't want to think-it wanted to be carried off by the warmth into
a comfortable silent place. This was, he thought ironically, the closest thing
to true prayer he'd experienced since coming to the monastery.

"Fine. I'll see him," said Silverdun. "But I reserve the right to ignore
everything he says."

"Excellent," said Estiane. "I'm glad you feel that way, since I already
invited him. He'll be here tomorrow."

Silverdun glared at the abbot. "You really are a bastard, you know."

Estiane's smile returned. "I believe you've got some garderobes to clean,
Novice. I suggest you get started now, or else you'll have to spend all of
midday prayer smelling like a latrine."

The next day was windy as well as cold, and the rain came even stronger.
Autumn had settled over the monastery and seemed intent on making its
presence known. Thus, Tebrit gleefully assigned Silverdun to the gardens,
where he dutifully, if angrily, weeded the cabbage. After an hour his back
ached, he was covered in mud up to his shins, and he could no longer feel the
tips of his fingers. He tried to stir up a bit of witchfire from time to time, but
on each occasion the wind rose up and immediately extinguished it-Aba
was watching, it seemed, and wanted to make sure that Tebrit's punishments
were exacted in full.

The Temple Aba-Nylae stood on a wooded hill just outside the walls of
the City Emerald, so there was no protection from the Inland Sea wind that
blew over the hill, leaving the grounds wet and cold even when the sun was
shining brightly in the city.

Silverdun was down on his knees, yanking away at a recalcitrant root,
when he heard a familiar voice boom from across the yard.

"By Auberon's hairy ass! Is this Perrin Alt, Lord Silverdun, or a rude
villein?" The voice then broke out into laughter.

Silverdun looked up and saw Edwin Sural, Lord Everess, standing
beneath the cloister loggia, beaming and waving.

"Well, come in out of the rain, Silverdun!" goaded Everess. "I didn't
come all this way to watch you play peasant."

Silverdun stood slowly, spitting out rainwater. His hair was soaked
through, lying in thick tangles around his neck. His novice's robes, likewise,
were drenched, and his hands and feet were thick with mud. He closed his
eyes for a long moment before beginning the long squelching trudge across
the garden.

"I must say, Perrin Alt," chuckled Everess, once Silverdun was within
easy speaking distance. "I do not think the religious life agrees with you."

Silverdun had never much liked Everess, who enjoyed his taunts a bit too
much for Silverdun's taste. "One gets used to it," he said. Whatever witty
rejoinder he might normally have come up with was drenched as surely as his
witchfires.

"By her teeth, Silverdun! It's true what I've heard-you are changed!"

Silverdun automatically touched his face. He could feel the nose, once straight and patrician, now angled with a slight bump. The cheekbones were
lower now as well, and the chin not quite so prominent. He had angered the
wrong woman, and she had taken her revenge on his appearance. Faella, the
young mestine, who for some reason he could not get out of his mind. Queen
Titania had told him that Faella was special, that she possessed the so-called
Thirteenth Gift, the Gift of Change. He had a feeling that Titania had not
told him this merely as a point of information.

"It's the country air," said Silverdun. "It does wonders for the complexion."

"Oh, come in out of the wet and stop sputtering inanities. We've important business to discuss." Everess waved Silverdun toward the calefactory, for
which Silverdun was inwardly grateful. The warming-room was the only
space in the entire monastery in which a fire was allowed to be lit at all times.

They stepped into the calefactory and almost immediately Silverdun's
wet robes began to steam. There was a washbasin filled with hot water in one
corner of the room, and before Silverdun could even begin to acknowledge
Everess again, he washed his face and hands and feet in the basin, wincing
with pleasure as the feeling returned to his extremities with sharp needles of
pain.

The calefactory was empty other than the two of them, which was remarkable for this time of day-it was a rest period, and on a cold afternoon one could
expect to find easily half the monks of the abbey clustered here, playing cards,
drinking the watered-down swill they called wine, or just sitting idly. The fact
that it was empty told Silverdun that Estiane had gone out of his way to ensure
that the meeting between him and Everess was a private one.

Once Silverdun felt himself to be sufficiently presentable, he sat down at
the long table by the fireplace, where Everess was already seated. Everess had
his pipe out and was carefully stoking it.

"I'm pleased that you agreed to see me, Perrin," Everess began warmly,
all trace of banter put aside. "What I have to speak with you about is a matter
of great importance."

"I see," said Silverdun. "Though I should tell you that I did not, in fact,
agree to see you. That bastard Estiane agreed on my behalf without consulting me on the matter."

"And yet here we are face-to-face, are we not?"

"There's a fire in here." Silverdun sighed. He found the repartee tiring.

Everess looked little different from the last time that Silverdun had seen
him, which had been in the House of Lords some five years earlier. Still stout
and red-faced, with the same bristling brown whiskers spotted with gray. His
eyes were narrow and partially hidden beneath bushy eyebrows, giving him
a permanent squint. He sucked on his pipe, and a small tendril of smoke
emerged from it. Silverdun waved a finger at the smoke, and it formed itself
into interlocking rings, twisting and spinning up toward the ceiling.

"Oh, do stop fooling around, Silverdun," said Everess. "There's much to
discuss, and I'd like to get back to the city before the road out there washes
out entirely."

"You have my complete attention," said Silverdun.

"It's time for you to come out of hiding," said Everess. "I understand
your need to get away from things for a time, but you're needed elsewhere."

"Quite the contrary. I'm happy here."

"Oh, don't be stupid, Silverdun. You've had your fun playing monk, but
that time is over and you and I both know it. You don't belong here. You
never have and you never will. You're not meant to be confined like this."

"I was confined for quite a long time at the prison of Crere Sulace. And
you never once came to visit me."

"Yes, and when Mauritane offered you a way out, you took it, even
though by all accounts you were riding off to your own death."

"Mauritane told me he'd kill me himself if I didn't go."

"Stop acting like an idiot!" said Everess, suddenly angry. "The point is
that you did go. You left Crete Sulace a criminal, and you emerged from the
Battle of Sylvan a hero. You've proved that you have the ability to do what
must be done for the good of the kingdom, and that's what I need from you
now."