"You have some ugly monsters in Alpinador," Midalis remarked. "We say the same of your women," Bruinhelde replied; and they laughed again, all three.
"You are brethren now," Andacanavar remarked in all seriousness. Midalis and Bruinhelde nodded-each had willingly risked his own safety to save the other. Even in that moment of victory, the Prince wondered how his natural brother would feel about the newest addition to the family.
"I'm only eight years in the Church," Brother Haney said to Liam O'Blythe and Brother Dellman as they walked along the docks of Pireth Vanguard, toward the waiting Saudi Jacintha. "There be two brothers older than meself in all of Vanguard, not counting Abbot Agronguerre."
His doubts touched Dellman, for he had heard the rumors that had named Haney as Agronguerre's choice for abbot, if he was indeed elected father abbot. Haney wasn't of the correct age, of course, wasn't even a master, but such premature appointments were not unusual at all in Vanguard, where brothers were few. On occasion, St.-Mere-Abelle had been forced to send a master north to replace a fallen abbot. Given the turmoil in the southland these days, and the absence of masters and other high-ranking brethren, Dellman thought that unlikely. And if Abbot Agronguerre did indeed become father abbot, then his faith in Haney would likely secure the man's ascent as abbot at St. Belfour.
"Will ye come back to us? " Liam O'Blythe asked Dellman.
"My course is not my own to decide," the brother answered, then quickly added, "but if given the chance to name my road, it will indeed include Vanguard. Perhaps I will take my first appointment as master in service to Abbot Haney of St. Belfour." It was just the right thing to say, a remark that widened a smile on Brother Haney's face, and just the right time to say it, for they had come to the gangplank leading aboard the Saudi Jacintha, with Captain Al'u'met looking across at them approvingly. The three, their friendship forged that night on the beach, and grown since, joined hands then.
"Would that we had a jigger o' single malt to toast," Liam said with a wink.
Dellman looked at him curiously. "I have but one fear of returning to Vanguard," he said seriously, drawing concerned looks from his companions.
"I fear that I will begin to speak like you!" Dellman explained, and all three broke down in laughter and fell into a great hug.
"Ye do return to us, Brother Dellman," Brother Haney remarked as the man started up the gangplank. Dellman glanced back over his shoulder and nodded sincerely, for he had every intention of doing just that.
"And if I do not return-" Abbot Agronguerre began to Prince Midalis, the two standing in a side room off the docks of Pireth Vanguard while the SaudiJacintha was readied for leaving,
"Then Brother Haney will be named as abbot of St. Belfour," the Prince assured the monk. "We are no strangers to succession, my friend. Is there an abbey more independent than St. Belfour in all Honce-the-Bear? "
"More renegade, perhaps," the abbot answered with a laugh, but his visage quickly sobered. "It pains me to leave Vanguard."
Prince Midalis, whose own heart was equally tied to this wild and beautiful land, understood. "You are called to serve, and there could be no better choice."
"We do not know the outcome," Agronguerre reminded him.
"But we do," the Prince insisted. "Your Church is not so foolish a body as to ignore the obvious. You will become the next father abbot in a month's time, and the world will be a brighter place because of it, though Vanguard will suffer without your wisdom."
"Somehow, I think that Vanguard will survive," the abbot remarked dryly. It was his turn to give a congratulatory pat on Midalis' shoulder.
It was true enough. Bruinhelde and the ranger had gone back to Alpinador, and the barbarian leader, though walking with an even more pronounced limp now, had left as a friend of Midalis, their bond forged in battle and in blood-brothering. It seemed obvious to all that the potential for true peace in Vanguard had never been greater. The way was open now for friendships among the people of the two countries, permission granted by respective leaders. A Vanguardsman who saw an Alpinadoran walking the southern roads could invite the man in for a meal and a bed without fear now, and an Alpinadoran who completed a successful hunt could now go south to find trade with the Vanguardsmen. Midalis and Bruinhelde had done all that up on that mountain, in the cave of the spirit shaggoth. They had become as brothers, bonded forever, and by extension, had bonded their kingdoms together.
Of course, the Prince continued to wonder with more than a little trepidation how his brother would receive these tidings, but it was a fear he easily suppressed. Vanguard was his responsibility-Danube had made that point all too clear by sending no help in their struggles against the demon's minions-and thus, it was his province to forge such necessary bonds. He still didn't understand the barbarians and their fierce culture, and didn't pretend that he did. But he did know, beyond doubt, that his beloved Vanguard was more secure, and that his people would live better lives because of the alliance.
"The world has changed much," Agronguerre remarked.
"For the better," Midalis replied.
"Perhaps," said the man who would be father abbot. "The passage of time will show us the truth. I wonder, though, need it take a war to bring about such change? Are we men creatures of habit, locked into routines and rituals that have long since lost their purpose, that have long since degenerated into worthlessness? "
"That is a proper question for any father abbot to ask," said Midalis. " That is the question of a visionary, of one not complacent with that which is but who seeks that which can be."
" I remember well when Father Abbot Markwart burned Master Jojonah at the stake," Abbot Agronguerre explained. "The man's one crime was to disagree with that which was, to seek that which he thought could be."
"You said that he allowed criminals into St.-Mere-Abelle."
Agronguerre shrugged. "Criminals?" he asked skeptically. "The woman Jilseponie, who has since been declared a hero, who came with Nightbird to rescue the centaur, Bradwarden, one of those who battled and destroyed the demon dactyl."
"Father Abbot Markwart could not have known that at the time of Master Jojonah's demise," Midalis reasoned.
"Could not, or would not?" Abbot Agronguerre replied, and he gave a resigned sigh. "I am not a visionary, I fear; and if they believed that I was, I would not now be considered for the position of father abbot."
"Then you will show them the truth," Midalis replied, but Agronguerre gave him a skeptical look, an expression that showed Midalis that the old monk wasn't certain of what that truth might be.
"You will follow your heart always," the Prince insisted. "You will do that which is best, not for you, but for your Church and for the world. That is my definition of a man of God, and the very best quality that anyone could ask in a father abbot."
To those claims, Agronguerre had no response, nor any doubts. He smiled warmly at his friend-this young, but so wise, Prince-and gave the man a hug, then turned for the docks and walked the first steps of the most important journey of all his life.
Chapter 21
The mood was somber that Calember at St.-Mere-Abelle, where all the abbots and masters and many of the immaculate brothers had gathered for their second College of Abbots in recent years. That first College, wherein Markwart had declared Avelyn a heretic and had burned Avelyn's primary follower, Master Jojonah, at the stake, had been marked by excitement and action, with rousing speeches and grand rhetoric. But this one, though the times seemed more peaceful and the future in many ways more promising, was a quiet yet foreboding event. Two noteworthy absences-that of Abbess Delenia of St. Gwendolyn and that of Master Marcalo De'Unnero-had set the grim tone, especially when De'Unnero's messenger, a peasant, had arrived with the news of the tragedy at St. Gwendolyn.