'Weren't either of you even a little suspicious when you heard the prince was dead?" Sarene asked, contemplatively sipping her wine. "It came at such a convenient time. Iadon has the benefit of an alliance with Teod, but now he doesn't have to worry about Raoden producing any heirs."
Roial looked at Kiin, who shrugged. "I think we have to at least consider the possibility, Roial."
Roial nodded regretfully. "So what do we do? Try and find proof that Iadon executed his son?"
"Knowledge will bring strength." Sarene said simply.
"Agreed," Kiin said. "You, however, are the only one of us with free access to the palace."
"I'll poke around and see what I can uncover."
"Is it possible he isn't dead?" Roial asked. 'It would have been easy enough to find a look-alike for the casket-the coughing shivers is a very disfiguring disease." "It's possible," Sarene said doubtfully.
"But you don't believe it."
Sarene shook her head. "When a monarch decides to destroy a rival, he usually makes sure to do so in a permanent way. There are too many stories about lost heirs that reappear after twenty years in the wilderness to claim their rightful throne."
"Still, perhaps Iadon isn't as brutal as you assume," Roial said. "He was a better man, once-never what I would call a good man, but not a bad one either. Just greedy. Something's happened to him over the last few years, something that has… changed him. Still, I think there remains enough compassion in Iadon to keep him from murdering his own son."
"All right," Sarene said. "I'll send Ashe to search through the royal dungeons. He's so meticulous he'll know the name of every rat in the place before he's satisfied." "Your Seon?" Roial realized. "Where is he?"
"I sent him to Elantris."
"Elantris?" Kiin asked.
"That Fjordell gyorn is interested in Elantris for some reason." Sarene ex-
plained. "And I make it my business never to ignore what a gyorn finds interesting." "You seem to be rather preoccupied with a single priest, 'Ene," Kiin said. "Not a priest, Uncle." Sarene corrected. "A full gyorn."
"Still only one man. How much damage can he do?"
"Ask the Duladen Republic," Sarene said. "I think this is the same gyorn who was involved in that disaster."
"There's no sure evidence that Fjorden was behind the collapse," Roial noted. "There is in Teod, but no one else would believe it. Just believe me when I tell you that this single gyorn could be more dangerous than Iadon."
The comment struck a lull in the conversation. Time passed silently, the three
nobles drinking their wine in thought until Lukel entered, having traveled to retrieve his mother and siblings. He nodded to Sarene and bowed to the duke before pouring himself a cup of wine.
"Look at you," Lukel said to Sarene as he took a seat. "A confident member of the boys' club."
"Leader of it. more truthfully." Roial noted.
"Your mother?" Kiin asked.
"Is on her way," Lukel said. "They weren't finished, and you know how Mother is. Everything must be done in its proper order; no rushing allowed."
Kiin nodded. downing the last of his wine. "Then you and I should get to cleaning before she returns. We wouldn't want her to see what a mess our collected noble friends have made of the dining room."
Lukel sighed. giving Sarene a look that suggested he sometimes wished he lived in a traditional household-one with servants, or at least women, to do such things. Kiln was already moving, however, and his son had no choice but to follow.
"Interesting family," Roial said, watching them go.
"Yes. A little odd even by Teoish standards."
"Kiin had a long life on his own." the duke observed. "It accustomed him to doing things by himself. He once hired a cook, I hear, but grew frustrated with the woman's methods. I seem to recall that she quit before he had the heart to fire her-she claimed she couldn't work in such a demanding environment."
Sarene laughed. "That sounds appropriate."
Roial smiled, but continued in a more serious tone. "Sarene, we are indeed fortunate. You might very well be our last chance for saving Arelon." "Thank you, Your Grace," Sarene said, flushing despite herself.
"This country will not last much longer. A few months, maybe, a half a year if we are lucky."
Sarene's brow furled. "But, I thought you wanted to wait. At least, that's what you told the others."
Roial made a dismissive gesture. "I'd convinced myself that little could be gained by their aid-Edan and Ahan are too contrary, and Shuden and Eondel are both too inexperienced. I wanted to mollify them while Kiin and I decided what to do. I fear our plans may have centered around more… dangerous methods.
"Now, however, there is another chance. If your plan works-though I'm still not convinced that it will-we might be able to forestall collapse for a little longer. I'm not sure: ten years of Iadon's rule has built momentum. It will be difficult to change it in only a few months' time."
"I think we can do it. Roial," Sarene said.
"Just make sure you don't get ahead of yourself, young lady." Roial said, eyeing her. "Do not dash if you only have the strength to walk, and do not waste your time pushing on walls that will not give. More importantly, don't shove where a
pat would be sufficient. You backed me into a corner today. I'm still a prideful old man. If Shuden hadn't saved me, I honestly can't say if I would have been humble enough to acknowledge fault in front of all those men."
"I'm sorry," Sarene said, now blushing for another reason. There was something about this powerful, yet grandfatherly, old duke that made her suddenly desperate to have his respect.
"Just be careful," Roial said. "If this gyorn is as dangerous as you claim, then there are some very powerful forces moving through Kae. Do not let Arelon get crushed between them."
Sarene nodded, and the duke leaned back. pouring the last of the wine into his cup.
CHAPTER 12
Early in his career, Hrathen had found it difficult to accept other languages. Fjordell was Jaddeth's own chosen tongue-it was holy, while other languages were profane. How, then. did one convert those who didn't speak Fjordell? Did one speak to them in their own Ianguage. or did one force all true supplicants to study Fjordell first? It seemed foolish to require an entire nation to learn a new language before allowing them to hear of Jaddeth's empire.
So, when forced to make the decision between profanity and infinite delay, Hrathen chose profanity. He had learned to speak Aonic and Duladen, and had even picked up a little Jindoeese. When he taught. he taught the people in their own tongue-though, admittedly, it still bothered him to do so. What if they never learned? What if his actions made people think that they didn't need Fjordell, since they could learn of Jaddeth in their mother language?
These thoughts, and many like them, passed through Hrathen's mind as he preached to the people of Kae. It wasn't that he lacked focus or dedication; he had simply given the same speeches so many times that they had become rote. He spoke almost unconsciously, raising and lowering his voice to the rhythm of the sermon, performing the ancient art that was a hybrid offspring of prayer and theater.
When he urged. they responded with cheers. When he condemned, they looked at one another with shame. When he raised his voice. they focused their at-tendon, and when he lowered it to a bare whisper, they were even more captivated. It was as if he controlled the ocean waves themselves, emotion surging through the crowd like froth-covered tides.
He finished with a stunning admonition to serve in Jaddeth's kingdom, to swear themselves as odiv or krondet to one of the priests in Kae, thereby becoming part of the chain that linked them directly to Lord Jaddeth. The common people served the arteths and dorven, the arteths and dorven served the gradors, the gradors served the ragnats, the ragnats served the gyorns, the gyorns served Wyrn, and Wyrn served Jaddeth. Only the gragdets-leaders of the monasteries-weren't directly in the line. It was a superbly organized system. Everyone knew whom he or she had to serve: most didn't need to worry about the commands of Jaddeth, which were often above their understanding. All they had to do was follow their arteth, serve him as best they could, and Jaddeth would be pleased with them.