great source of concern for Abbot Olin, who has always understood that the Abellican and Chezru churches were not as opposed as many believe.
Abbot Olin, who loves Jacintha as he loves Entel, desires stability in Behren, for only in the calm of order might the greater questions concerning the dramatic events within Chezru be properly explored."
"And your master believes that he should have a voice in such discussions?"
"He would be grateful if you and your fellow Yatols included him, of course," said Mackaront. "Abbot Olin is a man of philosophy and education. He is no ideologue locked into a particular focus so strongly that he believes there is nothing left to learn. Inquisition and exploration lead to the truth, though it is a road that may continue for centuries to come."
"Fine words," Yatol Wadon said, with a hint of sarcasm holding in his tone. "But words for another day. Tell me what you offer."
"Yatols Peridan and De Hamman will continue to play out their fighting - there is little we can do to stop that," Mackaront explained, and Yatol Wadon predictably scowled at the words. It was important to him, after all, to calm the side battles so that Yatols like the two warlords to the south of Jacintha could aid him in his more important cause.
"What we will do is keep the fighting balanced, allowing neither to gain a major advantage," Mackaront went on. "Trust me in this. Events have already been put into motion to secure that end."
"You presume much," Yatol Wadon replied, an edge of unmistakable anger creeping into his voice.
"We understand much," Mackaront corrected, not backing down. "The best scenario for you and for Jacintha is to keep all of the other regions away from your expected personal struggle with Yatol Bardoh."
Wadon's expression showed that he had been thinking in exactly the opposite direction.
"You alone defeat Bardoh and secure Jacintha, and your position will not be questioned by any of the others," Mackaront explained. "And you will defeat Yatol Bardoh, and soundly, because my master is your friend."
He ended with a grinning expression, locking stares with Yatol Wadon. He could see that Wadon wanted to deny his claim, desperately so.
But he could not.
Mackaront recognized clearly that Mado Wadon was not pleased by his announced plans for Peridan and De Hamman, and that the Jacintha leader understood exactly what was going on here. Abbot Olin was forcing his hand and his allegiance. And yet, whatever he thought of that, there was nothing that he could do about it.
That last line, because my master is your friend, was not so veiled a threat. If Mackaront's master was not Wadon's friend, the implication seemed clear enough that Abbot Olin would quickly become Yatol Bardoh's friend.
Master Mackaront excused himself then, ending with a polite and respectful bow. He didn't want to press his advantage too strongly, after all.
The ten thousand Bearmen soldiers crossing the eastern stretches of the Belt-and-Buckle, the tremendous fleet of pirate ships leveling the conflict between Peridan and De Hamman, and the fleet of Honce-the-Bear warships even then assembling in Entel harbor, preparing to deliver soldiers of Aydrian's army to Jacintha, would do that all on their own.
And then Abbot Olin would arrive, the friend of victorious and indebted Yatol Mado Wadon.
Chapter 4 The End of the World As They Knew It
"Saudi Jacintha, the ship of Captain Al'u'met, sailed out of Palmaris,"
Duke Bretherford informed his guests on River Palace, the royal ship of the Honce-the-Bear fleet. "We have reason to believe that one of the masters of St. Precious, likely Marlboro Viscenti, was aboard."
"Heading for St.-Mere-Abelle," Duke Kalas reasoned, looking to Aydrian.
The young king nodded and grinned. "My mother reached them. She set them all in a frenzy, I would guess."
"We can assume that word has reached Fio Bou-raiy, then," Marcalo De'Unnero put in. "St.-Mere-Abelle will lock down her gates."
"Good," Aydrian replied. "Put them in their hole. They will be easier to catch that way."
"Spoken like one who has not witnessed the power that is St.-Mere- Abelle," the former monk sharply warned, and all about the table, eyebrows arched at De'Unnero's surprisingly blunt rebuttal of the king.
But Aydrian merely grinned all the wider. "Still you doubt and fear," he said to the fiery De'Unnero. "When will you come to trust me?"
There were far too many tangential implications reaching out from that question for De'Unnero to begin to answer.
Across the table, Duke Bretherford cleared his throat.
Aydrian turned a wry grin the smallish man's way. "Speak freely here,"