Nevertheless there was a great mystery here, one never solved by all the prelates, magikers and primates that had come before him. To be the first since Colanus himself to read the volumes, or even a portion of a single page, would be exhilarating.
Placing a hand on the one volume he had brought from the tower to his own room, he returned his attention to the sheet, his eye tracing each symbol and then scanning down each column of groups, looking for any clue that might open a window—just a crack—into this ancient language.
There was a knock on his door. He quickly folded the sheet and tucked it into the volume from the tower, then hid the volume itself under a stack of heavy books from the church library.
'Yes?'
Father Rown entered. 'Here are Haman's minutes to the last council meeting and the agenda for the meeting at noon. I've gone over them as you requested, and made some notations in the column for your attention.'
Powl took the papers. 'Thank you.'
Rown nodded and started closing the door.
'Father?' Rown popped his head back into the room. 'I am very grateful for your diligence and patience on my behalf.'
'Thank you, your Grace,' Rown said, smiling in surprise, and left.
Powl looked at the minutes, checked the notations made by Rown, glanced at the agenda. Nothing unexpected. He scanned the pages quickly to make sure he had not missed anything. That's when he saw it. He stopped, looked up to clear his vision, and looked down again. It was still there. A pattern. In fact, two patterns. The first was Harnan's habit of adding a mark, which in and of itself had no meaning, to denote the start of each main point in the minutes. The second was the use of another mark, also without any meaning in and of itself, to separate items in the new agenda. Not all symbols represented letters, and perhaps not all groups of letters represented words. With sudden excitement he put the papers aside and dug out the sheet from the Colanus volume. What if it were the same here? What if, for example, two of the groups he could transcribe did not represent KELORA and KADRIEL but ELORA and ADRIEL, and the K symbol was nothing more than extra emphasis or even some kind of stylistic decoration? What if the K symbol represented an entire idea or thought and not a single sound?
God help me! He slumped back in his chair, his excitement evaporating as quickly as it had come. How could he possibly explore all the variants? He would need a dozen lifetimes. What had he been thinking?
He cursed himself. The problem was he had not been thinking. He had been avoiding those issues he most needed to confront because of his guilt at the way he had gained the primacy. With his own hands, the hands with which he wrote sermons and meaningless entries for the Book of Days, he had suffocated his predecessor. He had committed a murder in the name of God but for his own sake. His mind was occupying itself in inconsequential detail while his soul was lost altogether.
He picked up the sheet, ready to tear it in two, but stopped himself. He could not let this go. Profane or not, irrelevant or not, it was a mystery, and if he could not solve the mystery of God's name then at least he could try and solve another. And it would not be just for himself. He was a priest and a learned man, the two occupations so closely related they were almost the same thing in his mind, so using his learning to increase knowledge for knowledge's sake was not simply a profane act but touched on something indefinably yet tangibly sacred.
The sun was slanting almost directly through his window. It was nearly noon. He hid the sheet again, covered the ancient volume. He would come back to it later. He would find the window to this great secret and open it, and who knew what he might learn?
Matters were almost under control again.
Areava sat at the head of the council table, aware her Kingdom had been damaged but was still largely intact. She and the state had received terrible blows and survived. She had loyal councillors before her, drawn from the best her royal city had to offer. She had her trusted chancellor to her right, the selfless Orkid Gravespear. She had her mighty constable sitting opposite her, suitably chastised but eager to prove himself anew, she was sure. Most importantly, by her left side once again, her brother Olio. She placed her left hand over his right; he curled his fingers around hers.
'This meeting of my executive council is now in session. You will see on your agenda that the first item for discussion is the creation and organisation of the Great Army, and attached to the agenda is a schedule for recruitment and supply put together by the Great Army Committee for our consideration.'
The councillors quickly scanned the document. Since the schedule had been hurriedly produced after Dejanus's dismissal from the committee, Areava closely watched his reaction for any sign of anger or rebuke, but she could not read his expression and he remained silent. Among the others there were muttered comments about the cost and some sharp intakes of breath at the scale of the operation, but no one fell off their seat or immediately raised any objections.
'I have communicated to King Tomar our intention to raise the Great Army's standard in southern Chandra.'
'Has he replied?' Marshal Triam Lief asked.
'Not yet, but the message was sent only recently.'
'He will not object, surely?' Mayor Shant Tenor piped up.
'We are asking a great deal of him,' the marshal said.
'I do not expect any objection from his Majesty,' Areava said firmly.
'Perhaps another letter stressing the urgency of the situation is in order?' the mayor suggested.
Areava opened her mouth to say she did not think that would be necessary, but before she could, Orkid said he would draft a letter for the queen's signature if that was the council's advice. Irritated by the compromise when in her view no compromise was necessary, she agreed in order to stop anyone thinking she and Orkid were dissenting.
'Are there any questions regarding the schedule?'
'How are we to meet the requirements for all this food?' asked Xella Povis, the head of the merchants' collective. 'Can the Kingdom's farmers produce enough, and if they can, how do we get it all to southern Chandra?'
'Getting it there will be no problem if we use the navy,' Fleet Admiral Setchmar said quickly.
'We may be able to use merchant traders for the transport of most of the supplies,' Orkid pointed out, saying what Xella Povis wanted to hear. 'That would leave the navy free for other duties.'
Areava let the conversation go and carefully observed her councillors at work. Most of them took their cue from self-interest, but she had expected that. Cleverly, the Great Army Committee had created a schedule that would pour at least some of the crown's money into the hands of every commercial interest, and distribute at least some of the political gain from the formation of the army to the constable, the marshal and the fleet admiral, The result was that to some extent everyone in the Kingdom would feel that not only had they made a contribution to the defence of the realm but that they would also gain some benefit from it apart from defeating the outlaw Prince Lynan and his band of marauding Chetts. She wondered, almost wistfully, if any of them were capable of working for the Kingdom's benefit without any expectation of reward. At that point Olio removed his hand from hers to organise the papers in front of him. She glanced across and saw that he had actually written comments on his copy of the minutes. Surprised, she looked up at him, but he was concentrating on what was being discussed and did not notice.
Yes, she thought, at least one here is capable of that, and her heart filled with pride.
CHAPTER 21
Somewhere along the first day's ride back to Daavis from the battle on the hill, Lynan tucked his trophy into a saddlebag. Ager tried talking to him, but Lynan ignored him; Gudon tried as well, but with no more success.