'Corlyn,' called the cardinal next, 'to be Lord of the Farlan, a man of piety is needed. Do you trust this man to be an example to the people?'
The old man with gentle eyes on Veck's far left gave Isak a benevo¬lent smile, and said calmly, 'I do.'
That was it; the Corlyn said nothing more. Isak tried not to smile at the thought of him as a spiritual leader – he'd only remembered to visit the Temple of Nartis after returning to Tirah because Lesarl had reminded him. A less suitable choice he couldn't imagine.
And yet… And yet, strangely, he couldn't tear his eyes from the Corlyn's silent smile. The head of the Cult's pastoral branch, a man he'd never met, wasn't asking for anything. Tila had said the Corlyn would support Isak simply because he had no personal agenda to push, and he liked to annoy those members of the Synod who disdained him for exactly that reason. He was, in truth, a simple man of his God, wanting only to guide the people in their faith and rejecting the power that becoming high priest offered.
A hand to guide him on the right path. If one old man still had enough faith left to trust a feckless youth with this, why couldn't he be right? Isak was pondering this when a curious, unpleasantly smug smile crossed Cardinal Veck's lips. Isak's instincts kicked into action as he felt his heart quicken. He catalogued every detail of the cardinal's appearance: the neat clipped beard, the rings on his fingers, a pair of diamonds set in gold, a fat silver band engraved with the badge of the cardinal branch, and a firegem surrounded by sapphires. The cardinal was moistening his lips and twitching his thin eyebrows, the only remaining trace of the dark colouring of his youth. Even the long hair protruding from a mole on his right cheek was white.
'Well, my Lord. We have had assurances of your strength and moral virtue. Now it just falls to us to determine whether you will be a good ruler as well as a good man. The requirements of office go beyond the strength of a leader's arm.'
Isak matched the cardinal's gaze impassively. Veck's words were a departure from the ritual, but he had expected nothing less. A rumble of disapproval sounded from the direction of the High Chaplain, but neither man paid him any attention, both refusing to be the one to look away first.
'Lord Bahl's long reign saw many changes,' Veck continued. 'The strength of our nation was rebuilt by his hand, there can be no doubt. However, there will always be some changes that are for the worse. We certainly do not blame Lord Bahl lor such things but it is felt by the Synod that certain figures, the Chief Steward first among them, have pursued an agenda that has diminished the influence of the Gods within this great nation of ours.'
'If you wish to accuse Chief Steward Lesarl of something, it should be done in a more formal – more public – arena, I believe.' Isak's tone was soft and level, without a hint of antagonism. Let them think he was willing to sacrifice the man – maybe they believed the rumours of his dislike for Lesarl. The truth was that while Isak might not count Lesarl as a close friend, he was entirely aware that the Chief Steward was invaluable to the Farlan. If others hoped he might put personal feelings first, they were welcome to think that way. It cost him nothing, and left them running in the wrong direction. Lesarl was as aware of his important to the nation as Isak was.
'Nothing so dramatic as that, my Lord. The Synod is a little concerned that the government has become too secular, that we are forgetting the guidance from our Gods.'
'And you have proposals for me to consider?' A wave of nausea hit Isak. These men could think only of their petty wants; this is what they were reduced to: comparing their own fiefdoms to others and squabbling over the differences. Had they ever been devoted to a cause higher than their own, or was this the measure of their life's work?
'We have certain suggestions, yes.'
'Please, name them.'
His abruptness caused the cardinal to hesitate momentarily. Tila's voice drifted through his mind. Don't get angry, that's how mistakes are made. Isak scowled at the admonishment from his subconscious. He bit his lip and tensed his gut around the building swell of anger. His fist tightened at the effort, but when he released it, Isak found the petulant clouds dissipated.
'First, the treatment of sacred creatures,' Veck went on, blithely oblivious to Isak's inner turmoil. 'Bear- and wolf-baiting is now a regular occurrence in many regions. Fighting-snakes command prices ‹ ›f up to fifty silver crescents apiece. These activities are grave insults to the Gods. They must be stopped.'
Isak smiled inwardly. He was being eased in to the argument.
As far as I am aware, the only species of snake willing to fight is the ice cobra, and if you'll consult your texts I believe you'll discover ice cobras are not sacred – they're noted for it, in fact. There are no other snakes in these parts that will fight each other. An adder is more likely to curl in a ball than fight.'
'Fighting-snakes are being imported from other states.'
'Your point is noted. Please, continue.'
'The organisation styling itself "The Brethren of the Sacred Teachings" has been recently active, and you yourself, my Lord, have met with them. These "Brethren", my Lord, are unsanctioned by any cult. They are no better than wild mercenaries. Their secrecy is violently guarded, even against the proper authorities.'
'The proper authorities, meaning you? They came to my aid during an attempt on my life. I hardly think that constitutes wild behaviour – good citizenry, perhaps?'
'That there happened to be several hundred of them ready for war in Saroc does not constitute good citizenry to my mind,' sniffed Cardinal Veck.
'My Lord,' broke in Cardinal Certinse, 'I have had word that a company of dark monks even now inhabits my ancestral home, thiev¬ing and arresting as they please.'
Isak leaned forward, a flash of controlled fury in his white eyes. 'Do you really wish to argue with me over the meaning of good citi¬zenry?' he growled. 'The Brethren were not the only soldiers riding in Saroc that day. Did you not read that in your reports? The reason they are in your family home, Cardinal Certinse, is because a number of your family have proved themselves traitors, and the Brethren provide escort to those I have charged with rooting out those others also involved. Surely you cannot object, as it is one of your fellow cardinals conducting this investigation?'
'Disten?' spluttered Cardinal Certinse. 'The man is a maniac, a delusional monster. His hatred of my family is well known. He is a disgrace to the office. His appointment was nothing more than an indulgence.'
Isak breathed deeply, determined his temper would not boil over. He could see beads of sweat on the cardinal's brow, unsurprising, since he himself had been accused of consorting with daemons by that very same Cardinal Disten. Though Disten might find something in Tildek Manor, Cardinal Certinse would have been far more careful than the rest of his family. Even Lesarl was less than confident of finding evi¬dence against him. In his usual style, the Chief Steward was forming alternative plans to deal with the cardinal.
'What I know about Cardinal Disten,' Isak replied in a measured
voice, 'is that he did not strike me as mad in any way, and whatever accusations he has made against your family were revealed to be true that day. I saw the evidence myself, for Suzerain Tildek and Duke Certinse led troops under banner into the Saroc suzerainty without invitation, that a crime in itself, and then attacked my person. They would have succeeded in killing me, had the Brethren of the Sacred Teachings not anticipated the act.'
'How can you be sure the Brethren themselves did not engineer this – had my brother attacked you by the time they themselves were under assault?'