would be more trying than the meeting he had earlier.
***
It was nearing midnight when his office door swung opened and a man walked in pulling off a pair of riding gloves. Lyfair could tell who it was by the swagger in his stride, even before the man pulled the hood of his cloak back.
“Lord Blackthorn.” The Bishop slightly bowed his head to the older man. William Blackthorn may have been older than Bishop Lyfair, but you could not tell it by his looks. The Lord was still trim and fit, he looked like a man twenty years his junior.
“Father Lyfair.” Blackthorn always addressed him as Father never Bishop or Your Eminence, and it infuriated Bishop Lyfair, but Blackthorn had enough money and power to get away with it and the old Lord was just a bully by nature. The nobleman neatly laid his cloak over a chair and put his gloves on top of it. He wore a grey gambeson with his family crest on it, a black gauntleted fist clutching a thorn vine.
“I heard the King is doing well?” The Bishop could see that Lord Blackthorn’s spy network was on top of things. He had gotten the information before he even arrived in Turill.
“No, my lord, that is just wishful thinking by those close to him. I assure you the King is still very ill, and he won’t last much longer.”
“Then why do I hear he will hold court himself day after tomorrow? It seems to me that a man that could die at any moment would not be able to hold court?”
The Bishop could feel the sweat start to run down his body under his heavy robes. “I had not heard that, but I’m sure that Princess Raygan is somehow behind that foolish aspiration, you know how she fawns over her father.” The Bishop brought his hands up and formed a steeple with his fingers and touched them to his lips. “I’m sure the Princess wants her father to stay alive as long as he can, Prince Cain is not overly fond of her excesses. She may be trying to show everyone that the King is still capable of making decisions.” The Bishop chuckled. “Perhaps she’s afraid Prince Cain will pull the purse strings of the Kingdom closed once he’s its King.”
Lord Blackthorn frowned as he stepped close to Lyfair and put his finger on the Bishop’s chest. “This ends now.” Lyfair could see that Lord Blackthorn was seething with anger and he had no idea why. What had he said?
“There is nothing funny about this situation; I want that incompetent fool dead by the end of the week. You told me that if we just helped his illness along and let the whole thing look like a natural death it would be easier than trying to cover up a messy death and it would be just as quick. The boy has returned and you’re out of time, Father. I don’t care if you have to put a pillow over his face yourself. I want him gone by the end of the week. I will wait no longer. You said you could handle this end of things, now handle it.”
Lord Blackthorn walked over and poured himself a cup of wine. Lyfair could see the anger slide off the Lord like a serpent. William Blackthorn was a man of many temperaments. The Bishop had watched him over the years in council meetings. He could go from furious to jubilant in the blink of an eye. Many of the council members were wary of the many moods of William Blackthorn.
“Do you have all the others prepared to play their parts, Father?” Bishop Lyfair sat down in his chair. He hated talking to Blackthorn, the old Lord was cunning. If the truth was known the Bishop was more than a little afraid of what William Blackthorn was capable of. The Lord’s arrogance knew no bounds, the man was an elitist in the extreme, he was not someone the Bishop wanted as an enemy. “They are prepared I believe but are as impatient as you are. When the time comes they will play their parts. Of that I have no doubt.”
The old Lord swallowed down his wine and sat the cup on Lyfair’s desk. “They dammed well better for what they are being paid and the concessions I have made. You’re the only one with any wit, Lyfair, that’s why I’m so short with you. You know what hangs in the balance,