“Sir Rainos,” Thirsk said frankly, “I think I know how difficult it must have been for you to come to that conclusion. And to be fair to your cousin, while I think what you’ve just said about him was accurate, it’s also true that I had no more idea of what the Charisians—” he watched Ahlverez’ eyes very carefully as he deliberately avoided calling them heretics “—were about to do to us at Armageddon Reef than he did. No one outside Charis had any clue about the galleons, the new artillery, the new tactics—any of it. Even if Duke Malikai had actively solicited my advice and taken every word of it to heart, Cayleb Ahrmahk still would have devastated our fleet.” He shook his head. “He went right ahead and completely destroyed the portion of it under my direct command in Crag Reach, after all. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that simply because you feel you can’t blame me for everything that happened, it would be the height of unfairness to blame your cousin for everything, either. I’ve done that, in the privacy of my own thoughts,” he admitted. “More than once. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I felt that way at least partly to excuse my own failure, when it was my turn at Crag Reach. After all, if it was all because he hadn’t listened to me, then none of it was my fault. But the truth is that however many mistakes he made, however stubborn he might have been, in the end we were simply beaten by a foe who was too powerful—and too unexpected—for it to have ended any other way, no matter what we did.”
Ahlverez’ nostrils flared. He hadn’t expected that, and for a moment he felt a flicker of anger that Thirsk should think he could be flattered into some sort of sloppy-minded lovefest. But then he looked into the earl’s eyes and realized he meant every word of it.
“I think that may have been as hard for you to say as it was for me to admit Faidel might have been more at fault than you, My Lord.”
“Not so much hard to say as hard to accept in the first place,” Thirsk said wryly, and Ahlverez surprised himself with a sharp snort of amused understanding.
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear what you’ve both just said,” Maik said, smiling warmly at them. “I don’t know you as well as I’ve come to know Lywys, Sir Rainos, but what I do know convinces me that both of you are good and godly men. That both of you are conscious of your responsibilities to God, the Archangels, Mother Church, and your kingdom … in that order.”
The last three words came out deliberately, and he paused yet again, letting them lie in the chapel’s stillness for several seconds before he inhaled sharply.
“This is a time of testing,” he said very, very quietly. “A time of testing such as Mother Church and this entire world have never seen since the War Against the Fallen itself. As a bishop of Mother Church, it’s my responsibility to recognize that test, to respond to it, to be the shepherd her children have the right to demand I be … and that’s a responsibility I’m not convinced I’ve met.” He shook his head. “I’ve done my best, or what I thought was my best, at least—as you and Lywys have—but I fear I’ve fallen short. Indeed, I’ve become convinced I’ve fallen short, especially since what happened to Lywys’ family.”
“That wasn’t your fault, Staiphan. You did everything you could to protect them. You know you did!” Thirsk said quickly, his eyes distressed, but Maik shook his head again.
“Despite what you may have heard, Sir Ahlverez,” the bishop said, his own eyes sad, “Commander Khapahr was no Charisian spy, nor did he attempt to murder Lywys when he was ‘unmasked.’ Indeed, he was the most loyal—and one of the most courageous—men I’ve ever been honored to know, and his death was a direct consequence of my actions.”
Ahlverez’ eyes widened, and Thirsk shook his head violently.
“It was not!” the earl half-snapped. “Ahlvyn was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He chose his actions, and if anyone’s to blame for what happened to him, it’s me. Because I knew what he’d do if he thought my girls, my grandchildren, were in danger. I knew, and I didn’t try to stop him.”
Thirsk’s voice quivered, and Ahlverez realized there were tears in his eyes.
“You couldn’t have stopped him, Lywys,” Maik said gently. “That’s the sort of man he was, and I knew it as well as you did.” The bishop turned back to Ahlverez. “I summoned the Commander to a meeting, Sir Rainos, where I informed him, indirectly, that arrangements were being made to transport Lywys’ family to Zion ‘for their protection.’ I didn’t know, then, that he’d take unilateral action to smuggle them out of Gorath without informing Lywys but I did hope that he’d deliver my warning to Lywys. Except that he didn’t, and when the Inquisition discovered his arrangements, he deliberately implicated himself as a Charisian agent to divert suspicion not simply from Lywys, but from me, as well. And when he shot Lywys, it was to provide the strongest ‘proof’ of Lywys’ innocence he possibly could. That’s the sort of man Ahlvyn Khapahr was.”
Ahlverez swallowed, seeing the pain in Thirsk’s face, the regret in Maik’s eyes, and he knew it was true.
“All—” To his surprise, he had to stop and clear his throat. “All honor to him, My Lord. A man blessed with friends that loyal is blessed indeed. But why tell me about it?”
“For several reasons, my son. First, because I think it’s further proof of the sort of man Lywys is.” Maik allowed his eyes to flit briefly to Lattymyr, standing a pace behind Ahlverez. “A man doesn’t inspire that sort of loyalty without earning it.”
Ahlverez nodded slowly, and the bishop shrugged.
“A second reason to tell you is because his actions underscore the sacrifices good and godly men are willing to make for those they love and respect … and for what they believe.” His eyes were back on Ahlverez now. “Neither side in this Jihad has an exclusive claim to honesty of belief, to devotion to God, or to courage, My Lord, whatever certain people may say. I think that’s something any child of God needs to understand, no matter how mistaken he thinks his brother or sister may have become.
“And a third reason,” the bishop’s voice became no less measured, no less steady, but it was suddenly sadder than it had been, “is because the reason the Commander ran those risks, made that sacrifice, was that he understood why Lywys’ family was to be transported to Zion … and that it had nothing at all to do with their protection. That the official reason for it was a lie, and that their ‘safety’ was the farthest thing from the mind of the men who ordered them moved.”
Those steady brown eyes held Alverez’ unflinchingly.
“But perhaps even more importantly,” Maik continued in that same, unwavering voice, “I told you so that you would understand what I’m about to say. Understand that this is no sudden, irrational conclusion on my part, but rather the result of a process it’s taken me far too many months to work through. A conclusion which is the reason I summoned the Commander that night for the meeting which led to his death.”
“What sort of … conclusion, My Lord?” Ahlverez asked as the prelate paused yet again.
“It’s a very simple one, my son. One too many people—including me—have failed to reach … or to remember. And it’s merely this: Mother Church is not the mortal, fallible men who happen to choose her policies at any given moment. The Archangels are not the servants of men who think they know God’s will better than God Himself. And God is not impressed by mortal pride, overweening ambition, or the narcissism which makes a man like Zhaspahr Clyntahn seek to pervert all that Mother Church was ever meant to be—to drown the world, all of God’s creation, in blood and fire and terror—in the name of his own insatiable quest for power.”