King's Dragon

Page 67

“Is there anything you wish to tell me, Alain?”
Alain gulped down a sudden lump in his throat.
“I swear to you that I will consider this as a private confessional, between you and God.”
“A p-private confessional?”
“There are some of us in the church who believe that confession ought to be a private matter between the penitent and Our Mother, in which such as I serve only as an intercessor. I do not believe in public confession, Alain, though some might call me radical for professing such a belief. Each one of us must bend our heart to Our Lady and the Divine Logos, the Holy Word, for it is the inner heart and not the outer seeming which matters to God.”
“But, Frater Agius, does not the outer seeming reveal the inner heart?”
“We can never know the inner heart except through Our Mother’s grace. It might appear to you that I serve Our Lady faithfully, with a true and single-minded heart, and yet how can you see past this outer seeming to know that my inner heart is riddled with vainglory and pride, in believing that I can serve Our Mother better than any other man? So do I pray each day for the lesson of humility. I beg you, my friend, for the sake of your immortal spirit, tell me the truth of what you know.”
“I—I know nothing. The Eika prince spoke a few words to me. That is all.” Even clasped before him, his hands shook as he spoke.
“Words in what language?”
“Wendish. I know no other language.”
“Many of the people here in Varre also know Salian.”
“I know a few words. The prince counted in Salian, or at least, the words sounded something like Salian but not exactly like. But he said almost nothing. He cannot truly speak our language.”
“Why did you not tell Count Lavastine?”
Alain felt like a cornered rat. “I—I just think it wouldn’t be merciful for him to be tortured, if he can’t speak well enough to truly talk to his interrogators.” He risked a glance at Agius, afraid that he had revealed disloyalty, but Agius’ expression did not change. The frater stared fixedly at the image of St. Lavrentius on the burning wheel.
“You have a compassionate heart, Alain. I will think on this before I act. Is there anything else you have seen or heard that you wish to tell me?”
The Lady of Battles. The vision he had seen in the ruins. The owl that had hunted that night, on Midsummer’s Eve. But he dared not speak of these things to Agius or to anyone except his kin. Afraid that he was about to blurt out these secrets, he said the first thing that came to mind.
“Why is Lady Sabella not Queen of Wendar? She is the elder child, isn’t she?”
“The sovereign does not chose the heir only because of primacy of age. To rule is a great burden, and the child named as heir must have other qualities. Chief among them is the ability to produce an heir in her own right. A family only stays strong as long as there are strong children to carry on the line. Surely you have heard of the heir’s progress?”
Alain shook his head.
“When the heir apparent reaches his or her majority, then she or he is sent out on a progress around the realm, just as King Henry travels constantly on his own progress, seeing to the health of his kingdom. The Lady watches over this progress, and if She grants Her favor to the claimant, the woman will get with child, or the man will make a woman pregnant. So is the chosen one marked as heir, for so it is assured that this prince of the realm is fertile.”
“But couldn’t a man lie about getting a woman pregnant?”
“Both he and the woman whom he has gotten with child must swear before a biscop, in the name of the Unities, that the child is of their conception. And the child must be born healthy, to prove its conception was not tainted with sin.”
“What happened to Sabella?”
“She went on her heir’s progress and did not get with child.”
“But King Henry did?”
“Ah, yes. King Henry did, although in a strange fashion. But that is a tale in and of itself.”
“Then why can she rebel now? How can she claim she is the rightful queen?”
“Many years later Lady Sabella married and gave birth to an heir, thus proving her fertility. After the birth of Tallia, Lady Sabella demanded that Henry stand aside in her favor. Of course he refused.”
“Oh.” Although Agius spoke of the doings of the great nobles, this story had a familiar ring; an Osna family had two years ago gone through an acrimonious dispute over inheritance rights, settled (after one unfortunate death) only by the intercession of the deacon, who had made all the parties involved kneel for five days and four nights at the Hearth in the church while she recited from the Holy Verses. “Do you think her cause is just, Brother?”