“Not as astonishing as a Blackchurch trainer,” Brenton said, slapping his cousin on the shoulder. “That’s truly an accomplishment, serving under the Lords of Exmoor. There is nothing so unique in England as a military establishment that has remained neutral for almost two hundred years, yet you turn out the finest warriors in the world without ever fighting an actual battle. How do you manage such a thing?”
Creston shrugged. “Hard work,” he said. “St. Abelard and his Triton’s Hellions take sides from time to time, depending on where the money is. You have heard of them, of course.”
“Of course.”
“As I said, they will take sides from time to time,” Creston said. “But never Blackchurch. There is salvation in that logic.”
“Blackchurch has never taken sides in a conflict?” Myles asked, his voice quiet. “Not ever?”
“Nay, never.”
“Does that mean Exmoor has no political affiliations?”
“If he does, he never speaks of it or shows it,” Creston said. “I know that sounds strange, but it’s true.”
“What if a Blackchurch trainer or someone who serves here takes sides?”
“Then he is exiled.”
It was a rather brutal, definitive answer that left no room for doubt. “Interesting,” Myles said thoughtfully. “The Executioner Knights operate entirely differently.”
Creston glanced over his shoulder at the man. “You serve politics,” he said. “It is not within your scope of operation to remain neutral. If the Crown has an enemy, you eliminate them, correct?”
Myles half shrugged, half nodded. “We are always on the side of the Crown,” he said. “If we must fight a war for, or even against, the Crown, with the ultimate goal of protecting whoever sits upon the throne, then we will.”
“That is a luxury we do not have,” Creston said. “We train men. We do not support a cause, and if we do, it becomes… tricky.”
“Has that happened recently?”
Creston nodded. “When one of our trainers married the daughter of the deposed Duke of Toxandria,” he said. “Her younger brother was the heir, and he wanted to regain his property and titles. The trainer wanted to fight for his wife, but that would mean taking sides.”
“What happened?”
“Another trainer went to Toxandria as an advisor to the young heir,” he said. “The stipulation was that he not command men, or plan a battle, or do anything that would directly involve him in the war. He simply advised. At least, that’s what he promised. But the man who went is a master swordsman, so I suspect he did not sit by idly while wars went on around him.”
“Then no one is fighting wars in France right now?”
Creston looked at Myles curiously. “From Blackchurch? Never,” he said. “At least, not a trainer. But we have trained many men who have gone on to fight wars in France.”
They were just coming to the village at this point, which was quiet at this hour. Most of the trainers were either in bed orheading there because they were up well before the sun. But just as they entered the village square, with Creston’s cottage off to the right, Brenton came to a halt. He looked straight at Myles.
“Well?” he said. “Are you satisfied?”
Myles nodded, though there was some reluctance there. “I suppose,” he said. “The answers were not prompted.”
Creston frowned at his cousin and at Myles. “What was prompted?”
Brenton looked at him. “Cres, we’ve got a problem,” he said. “A big problem. I have to ask you a question and you must be completely honest with me. Can you do that?”
“I have never lied to you in my life.”
Brenton knew that, but he still had to ask. “Then it comes to this,” he said, lowering his voice. “Has Lord Exmoor supported Louis in his quest to take Gascony from Henry?”
Both Creston and Cruz looked puzzled, if not a little outraged, by the question. “Not at all,” Creston said. “Why? Has someone said otherwise?”
Brenton sighed heavily. “We must go someplace quiet, where no one can hear,” he said. “Cres… this is life or death.”
“Life or death for whom?”
