Page 47
“I’ve much to tell you, Father.”
He trusts me, oddly. Even as he wishes it were otherwise.
“We go to war, Aiken. The Highlanders are no longer my concern.”
For an intelligent man who has amassed more wealth and property for the church during his ten years of leadership than any time before him, the Prima can be extraordinarily shortsighted. His failure to see that Edingham’s fate is tied to that of Meria is a blind spot I will gladly take advantage of.
“You know I travel with the queen’s sister?” I ask him, aware he will be apprised of all that has transpired since I returned to d’Almerita.
“Aye, and you will explain how such a thing came about.”
Prepared to launch into the story I’ve set in my head, Silvester cuts me off.
“But not here. We must get back to Avalon immediately.”
We go to war.
“You will side with Hinton and oppose the king?”
The stubborn set of his jaw confirms it. I would tell him doing so was a mistake. Would attempt to convince him otherwise. But I am not that far in Silvester’s good graces. He only tells me anything of consequence because I’m willing to overlook his questionable judgment and carry out his bidding, and because of my skill with the sword.
So it is done. As Galfrid predicted.
This came as little surprise after all the revelations the day before, including the news that still had me reeling when I woke this morn—that Silvester was only here to try to blackmail the king. Even I underestimated the Prima’s ambitions.
Apparently Lord Hinton promised Silvester a seat in his Curia, something Galfrid would never agree to. And now that the king had denied Silvester, apparently he would openly support the nephew’s claim. No small matter. Between Silvester’s coin, and his warriors, it could mean the difference between victory and defeat.
“We will do what is necessary for the church,” he snaps.
“Of course,” I agree immediately. “And I will come with you, if that is your will. You should know, however, for my role in returning the princess safely, I’ve gained a measure of trust from the king.”
Silvester scoffs at the notion. “What does he care for Edingham’s princess?”
Treading carefully, I attempt to explain. “As you know, the attack at Craighcebor did not go as planned. Whitley was captured.” I offer information he does not have access to yet to gain his trust. “And executed.”
His surprise is evident.
“Executed? How did you come by such news?”
I ignore the question. “The king has been mollified by Queen Cettina’s swift punishment. When her sister returns, unharmed—”
“It will be another step toward peace between them,” he finishes. “Even so, the queen will not involve herself in Merian politics. She will not forgive the king after what he’s done.”
Only through instability does Silvester attain his goals. So I offer an incentive for the opposite.
“The princess has done much to ensure improved relations between her country and Meria.”
He scoffs at that. “She’s been here mere days.”
True enough, and I’ve not seen Hilla since she left the meal with Aedre. This morn I tried to find her but was told she’d already left her chambers. “Even so, a bond between her and the king has been formed,” I lie.
Silvester’s shoulders rise and fall, his birdlike eyes narrowed. “Out with it,” he demands, impatient.
We agreed this could be a dangerous strategy. But a boldness that will buy Galfrid some time is needed.
“This morn I was privy to a conversation and learned the king sends a party north, to Murwood End. An odd move given the circumstances, do you not agree?”
Silvester appears thoughtful. “Exceedingly odd,” he agrees.
