The Book of the Burning
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Say nothing till the deed is done, and even having done the deed, say nothing.
- Ossa Queen of Inglad
NORTHERN ESSAIL
THE ABBEY OF SAINT REMAYE
They stayed at the Abbey of Saint Remaye. Kings had, or so they thought, power by strength, and priests gained their power by superstition, Rufus assumed, but the Abbess of Saint Clew gained her power mainly through reputation, both of the abbey and of her person, and she had convinced the Abbess Longerin to host Queen Hermudis and himself.
As Rufus sat across from the Queen his cousin, he thought, But then she is the great granddaughter of Ifandell Modet, and a devout follower of her teachings. This is another reason this nun was so quick to host us, I am sure.
And yet, like that long dead teacher and sorceress, Hermudis had a certain high handedness, and she was surely displaying it now.
“Cousin,” he began, and she noticed he did not say, sister. “I feel that what you are saying is that these wars center around you.”
Hermudis blinked at him, ever the cool one she, witch, princess, queen.
“I am merely asking what you would ask of the south. My daughter is Queen of Westrial, and the child in her womb will sit on Westrial’s throne.”
“If it’s a boy.”
Hermudis repeated, “The child in her womb will sit on Westrial’s throne.”
Hermudis was not used to the Sendic lands. She thought this was Armor or the West where they suffered a woman to rule over them. Or change them. Never mind. Let her speak.
“Bohemond is marrying the new King of Essail’s sister.”
“You mean that murderess’s daughter.”
“Enough of that,” Hermudis said. “Who with a crown on their head that fought their way to a throne did not have blood on their hands? My point is we are in bed with Westrial and Essail and by that token, Senach.”
“And by we you mean you and Raoul.”
“I was hoping I meant you and me.”
“And that, Cousin,” Rufus said, “is the problem.”
“You are Edmund’s heir,” Hermudis said. “There is no other. I only want to know when the time comes will you be content with Inglad and leave the south on its own, or will you try to bring the south to you?”
“As ally, or as territory?”
“Either.”
“I will have Hale,” Rufus said. “All of it. And King Cedd is allied to Rheged. Idris fights alongside Osric.”
“The alliance between Westrial and Rheged is not final.”
“Not yet? Cedd’s sister is Idris’s Queen.”
“Still, Caedmon has sent none of his troops to fight for Myrne and Osric.”
“If he does I will move against him,” Rufus said. “And your daughter. Rest assured.
“Ah! There it is. Those tiger eyes.”
“Have a care, Rufus,” Hermudis warned.
The bells were ringing from the carillon, and Rufus was smiling.
“Should we pray?” he asked his cousin. “Together?”
Hermudis had always thought when she was not sure what to say the best thing was saying nothing at all, complete stillness. It was with this stillness she rose and, saying not a word, went to the chapel, followed by her cousin.
How grasping he had always been. Born a bastard he had always wished for power and honor that she had taken for granted. Best to clear her mind, to not even think of him at the moment, to allow the chanting of the monks to flow over her.
Karaniya mattha kusalena,
Yan tam santam padam abhi-samecca;
Sakko uju ca suhuju ca,
Suvaco cassa mudu anatimani.
Santussako ca subharo ca,
Appakicco ca sallahukavutti;
Santindriyo ca nipako ca,
Appagabbho kulesu ananu giddho.
God, oh God, oh God, Sometimes all you could do was cry out to God.
This is what should be done
By one who is skilled in goodness,
And who knows the path of peace:
Let them be able and upright,
Straightforward and gentle in speech.
Humble and not conceited,
Contented and easily satisfied.
In the midst of the nuns chanting, a courier came into the chapel, and Hermudis looked up for only a moment. It had to be important. Anything unimportant would have waited for the office to end. Rufus, looking so pious, so homely as usual, so not a king, stood up with his half brother, this Richard who was nothing, really, and they left.
Hermudis violated her usual patience and piety to crane her neck and look past the chantry door to the vestibule where she saw Richard, the courier and Rufus, his eyes wide with panic.
Hermudis turned back to the chanting, smiling, attempting to look serene, wondering what it was that had distressed her cousin so, thinking:
Sometimes all you can do is cry out to God.
“Phineas had entered Zahem!”
“And this means?”
“Oh you’re a cool one!” Rufus shook his head, scowling at Hermudis as he moved across the room like a fuming lion.
“He has entered Zahem with Phineas.”
“That old sorcerer!” Hermudis said.
“They are taking over the Temple in Nava.”
“Which, as I remember, was theirs to begin with.”
“They are calling up all of the Black Star.”
“Have they invaded Zahem?”
“No, cousin,” Rufus said. “They have not invaded Zahem. They have been invited in. The Prophet has been set aside. The forces of Zahem, which are numerous, have been joined to Solahn.”
“I wonder why?” Hermudis inquired innocently.
Rufus glowered at her and she said, again, “Cousin… what… could… they… be doing that… for?”
“To invade Daumany.”
“Um,” Hermudis murmured, turning to her tea and pouring another cup. “Looks like you might have to ally yourself to Sussail. Or to Armor. Maybe,” she lifted the cup to her lips, “even to Westrial. Inglad seems a bit far away from where you need to be.”
“Inglad is a place I cannot be anyway,” Rufus said.
“Why is that?” Hermudis asked, face passive.
“Osric Wulfstan abducted my cousin. Edmund is in Hale, kept prisoner with Allyn Baldwin, and Edith has declared herself Regent.”
“And your troops?”
“Are on their way back to Daumany.”
“Because they heard of what’s going on down south?” Hermudis sat up. “But that makes no sense.”
“No,” Rufus said, “because someone sent a letter with my signet saying I had sent them back. We are all going back to Daumany. We are going in the morning.”
He looked at her with suspicion. She was a witch. Everyone knew it, but what were the limits of her power? Still, the thing about suspecting a witch, especially one with a crown on her head, is that one never dared ask. And so he did not. He only nodded curtly.
“Cousin.”
“Brother,” she returned with the correct address, and he turned on his heel to leave.
Hermudis sighed deeply, crossing her hands on her lap. Alone, she reflected, “Sometimes all you can do is call out to God.”
And sometimes She answers.