Authors: Unknown
“Who in the Emperor’s court is spying on behalf of my father?”
“That I am not permitted to reveal. I give my acolytes the respect of keeping their names and a vast portion of their information to
myself.”
“So Léi Shēng has known all along.”
“I do not believe so.” Sundara produced a jug and began to heat it by the fire. “From what I understand, your father’s spy was…
disturbed
…by the presence of the Duke and Duchess of Hartford and shared her feelings accordingly. If Léi Shēng made the association immediately, it was only because he suspected you were not following his orders in the first place.”
“Are you upset that I did not marry Princess Aĺakána?”
“I am not sure I believe in arranged marriages. Yo
u can see how well that worked out for your father and I.” The Dowager Queen contemplated the fire. “The Elders do not know it, and humans are long from discovering it, but if there were not as many gods as there are now, we would be inbreeding and worrying about birth defects. Even we are not immune to such things.”
After a bit, Sundara pulled the jug from the fire and began to pour goblets of mead.
“Léi Shēng has only recently become certain that you are married to the Grand Duchess of Berlin.” She passed Amihan a goblet. “It seems that there was quite a large…slip-up…that you and your wife failed to notice.”
“I do not know how that is possible,” he
replied, taking a sip. “We have kept the girls in seclusion since their presentation at court.”
“Have you forgotten the betrothal ceremony? My source tells me
that
is where Léi Shēng’s insider caught you out.”
“I am afraid the slip must have been so minor
that I missed it,” Amihan admitted. “For I cannot think of anything that went wrong.”
“I am told your daughter signed the betrothal contract ‘Chárí ţis Vronţís’, when everyone expected her to write ‘Caroline Marian Bestwick’. The cardinal sanded the contract and rolled it up before the Emperor could catch it, but Léi Shēng’s spy caught it all.”
The Thunder God drained his cup. “‘Grace of Thunder’. How…?”
“Think of it this way,” Sundara interrupted, passing him the jug. “If your father suspected that you had
married a mortal and later got information that you had possibly
bred
this mortal, would he not look for
any
sign that his theory was true?”
“I suppose so.”
“Therefore, when he received word that a child assigned herself a surname that means ‘of Thunder’ in her mother’s native language, would he not suspect that the ‘Thunder’ in question was associated with his eldest son, the
God
of Thunder?”
Amihan felt his insides grow cold. “How long do we have?”
“Until your father seeks you out for punishment? Only he
knows.” The Dowager Queen drained her goblet, but did not seek to refill it. “Léi Shēng will certainly hear of this meeting, despite the precautions we have taken. I would be surprised if it happened in the next few days…he will want to strike when your g
uard is down.”
Palace of the Dark Moon
Wài
Late July 1229
“May I present the Holiest of Holies, the High Priest of All High Priests, Your representative in Tahanan; Lord Wintau.”
“My Lord Wintau!” Léi Shēng rose to embrace the High
Priest. “Telfer, bring us refreshments.”
“At once, Your Supreme Majesty.”
“Sit! Sit!” the Elder God commanded as his servant departed. “Tell me how things are in Navarre.”
“You must know, Your Supreme Majesty,” Wintau replied somberly. “I recognize Your disdain for humanity, but surely You look in on those of us who serve You—at least from time to time.”
“Is that drought still plaguing you?” Léi Shēng accepted a few delicacies from Telfer before sending the tray to the High Priest.
“It has gotten worse, Lord. I hear it has spread to the farthest reaches of Tahanan.” He glanced down at the platter. “I feel guilty feasting in Your palace when I know that the harvest will be bad this year. I am sure the Navarrese will not be the only ones to starve.”
“Have you discussed this with Měilìde?” Léi Shēng drank deeply from a goblet of his favorite wine. “I am sure she would be willing to tell you what is going on.”
“Lady Měilìde won’t say.” Wintau picked at the platter, which Telfer had left beside him. “Tell me, Lord…are Lady Měilìde and Lady Lindele quarreling?”
“I do not believe so. They seem civil when we hold council.”
“I ask You this most humbly, Your Supreme Majesty.” The High Priest paused and finally poured himself a measure of wine. “Is there anything
You
can do?”
Léi Shēng sat back on his throne and consider Wintau’s request. At length, he asked, “When was the last Great Sacrifice?”
“Great Sacrifice?” The High Priest took a sip of wine to buy himself some more time. “Well over five hundred years ago, I believe. My predecessor told me that Your Priests all over Tahanan sacrificed many innocents in honor of your ascension as High King.”
“How many?”
Wintau looked down at the floor. “One for every year You had been alive, My Lord. The mortals were horrified at how many were slaughtered.”
His head shot up as he realized the implications of the question. “You do not wish for me to issue such a command, do You, Your Supreme Majesty? That…that would be over a thousand people! Tahanan would riot! They’d demand that the Elders remove You from the throne!”
“Calm down, my dear Wintau,” Léi Shēng said with a smile. “I desire a human sacrifice, but not on such a vast scale.”
The High Priest looked relieved. He didn’t enjoy the idea of sacrificing his fellow man, but when he considered how many people the length and breadth of Tahanan might starve if he didn’t obey…
“I would prefer five…it is such a nice, solid number…but I could only find four who were…pure…enough for my intentions.”
“You have specific people in mind?”
“Of course. You wouldn’t be thrilled if someone promised you five offerings, but did not specify what those offerings were, would you? Especially if they turned out to be something of little value, like wooden bowls or children’s toys?”
“You have a point,” Wintau agreed. He sighed, but the Elder God missed it, as he was directing his servant to equip the High Priest with parchment and quill.
“You do not have a problem with sacrificing an entire family, do you?”
Wintau paled, but quickly reminded himself of all who would suffer from his lack of obedience. “Of course not, My Lord.”
“The first candidate I desire is Lady Grace, Marchioness of Queensberry.”
“Queensberry?”
“Of the Marquisate of Queensberry, Scotland,” Léi Shēng clarified. “But worry not…I will tell you how to find all the candidates when we are finished.”
“What does she look like?”
“Blonde hair, black eyes…Lady Grace is only two, so you need not expect her to be very tall. I am told that she is exceptionally intelligent for her age,” said the Elder God. “She already speaks Greek and German fluently, and she might be working on French, English and Latin.”
Wintau raised an eyebrow at Lady Grace’s young age, but said nothing, as he was busy taking notes.
“Then there is her twin, the Duchess of Hartford,” Léi Shēng continued. “You will need extra men to retrieve her. Lady Caroline is the future Queen of Jerusalem and is certain to have much more security than her sister.”
“‘The future Queen of Jerusalem’?” Wintau echoed. “As in the fiancée of Archduke Conrad of the Holy Roman Empire?”
“The very same.”
“Then I suppose You’ll want the Archduke as well.”
“Not pure enough for my desires.” Léi Shēng took a sip of wine. “Next on your list should be the Grand Duchess of Berlin.”
The High Priest nearly dropped his quill. “Some of my Priests have seen her on diplomatic missions to the Empire. She’ll be an even harder get than the Duchess of Hartford!”
Léi Shēng’s smile returned. “But Catherine Bestwick is the jewel of your offering. Surely, you do not want to disappoint me?”
“No, Your Supreme Majesty.” Wintau bowed his head.
“The final candidate is the Grand Duke of Berlin—or whatever they call him now. He will be hard to miss…he walks, talks and squawks like an Englishman!”
Vienna
October 1229
Amihan watched some of the leaves fall, shook his head and moved inside.
“It is time to go.”
“What do you mean?”
“The harvest was terrible, Krystállina. The Priests will be going to the Elder Gods…if they have not already.”
“What does that have to do with us? We’re favorites of the Emperor…we’ll survive the winter.”
Amihan looked past his wife’s shoulder. “My father knows about us. The drought and the poor harvest was likely purposeful, so that the Priests and the people would want to come after us on their own.”
“Who told you?”
“My mother.”
“You’ve know for nearly a
year
and you didn’t bother to
tell
me?” she demanded.
“The Dowager Queen knew Léi Shēng would come for us, but she did not know when. I saw no point in worrying you until danger was immanent.”
“Where will we go? What will we do?”
“You and the girls will take refuge with
Les Soeurs de la Parole Eternelle
in Brittany. I will come for you in a few years, if it is safe.”
“You’re sending us to a
convent?
” Krystállina drew breath and prepared to excoriate her husband’s decision, but thought better of it. “What convent will take us in? I’m too old to be a sister and the girls are too young to be so much as scullery maids!”
“I have written to the prioress of
La Parole Eternelle
.
Mére
Charmaine is happy to take in ‘
Soeur
Natalie’ and her twin daughters,
Mademoiselle
Madeleine and
Mademoiselle
Gabrielle.
Mére
Charmaine said that the
mademoiselles
will be placed with the rest of the fosterlings, some of which are near their own age.”
Krystállina shook her head. “It will never work. Léi Shēng is as sure to find us in a convent as anywhere else. And as soon as the sisters find out we follow the Old Ways, they’ll throw us out for sure!”
Amihan smiled. “Krystállina, Chárí an
d Galíní practice the Old Ways.
Madame
Natalie and her daughters are as faithful to the church as the sun is to Tahanan. Besides, my father would not
dare
violate the priory’s sacred ground. The Elder Gods consider Christian land sacrosanct.”
The Grand Duchess turned toward the presence chamber, wherein she planned to rouse her ladies to action. “We can only hope that the High King of the Gods doesn’t hold such laws in contempt.”
Palace of the Holy Roman Emperor
January 16, 1230
“Your Imperial Majesty?” Amihan bowed at the door to the throne room, but no one was there. Startled, he kept walking.
Earlier that morning, the Thunder God had received a summons from the palace, his first since Krystállina had convinced the Emperor to send her on a “diplomatic mission to Roma” some three months ago. Amihan had questioned the nature of the summons, but the messenger said that he was simply told to ensure that the Grand Duke of Berlin got to the palace as soon as possible. Unfortunately, neither the messenger nor the Emperor had specified
where
he was to report, so Amihan was left wandering the corridors.