The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [76]
“The Church keeps records, you know. But beyond that, I met your father a long time ago. A man of honor.”
“You met him? Not with a sword in hand, I suppose?”
The fratrex smiled broadly. “I see. You want to avenge him?”
Cazio felt suddenly very light-headed. “It was you? You killed my father?”
The fratrex snorted. “No. I’m sure it would be convenient for you if I had. Give you good reason to murder me, eh?”
“My father was a fool,” Cazio said. “I never pledged to avenge him, only to live better and longer than he did.”
“Really? Then I don’t understand. You seem to follow the way of the sword, just as he did.”
“He fought for honor,” Cazio said. “He lost everything he owned and his life in a duel over a ridiculous notion. I fight for food and coin. I fight to survive, and I fight smart, for no other reason. I—”
He stopped. It had been a long time since he had had this conversation with anyone, he realized.
Why had he turned down the chance to walk the faneway of Mamres? Why had he been so disappointed when Acredo had been shot full of arrows?
Ah, no, he thought. How did it happen?
He tried to summon up the anger he’d once felt at his father, the outrage, the disdain.
It was gone. When had he changed? How had it happened without his knowing it?
The Fratrex Prismo was still regarding him, apparently waiting for him to go on. When he didn’t, the churchman leaned forward.
“So you’re just a mercenary, then? Honor means nothing to you?”
“I—Never mind that,” Cazio said. “Do you know who killed my father?”
“I’ve no idea,” the man said. “I knew him years before his death. He was on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Uni in Abrinio, and so was I. He saved our lives when bandits attacked.”
For the first time in years, Cazio remembered his father’s face and his voice, talking about going to Abrinio on pilgrimage. It was shocking how clear his memory suddenly was, how suddenly full of tears his head seemed to be.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he said. His voice felt wet and gritty.
“What shall we talk about, then?” the fratrex asked. “What to do with you?”
“Why not?”
“It’s an interesting subject. And it depends so much, you know, on—well, you. I’m willing to imagine you’ve been guided up until now by a personal sense of loyalty to Anne rather than by honest opposition to the Church. But to maintain that viewpoint, I’m going to need some cooperation from you. I’m going to need your help with Anne.”
“Suppose,” Cazio said after a moment, “I offer you a similar bargain? Just an arrow’s flight from here I witnessed men of the Church committing the foulest possible atrocities. At first I was willing to believe that the clergy involved were renegades, but we discovered that the praifec of Crotheny was involved and that the events I witnessed weren’t unique. It seems impossible that the rest of the Church fathers knew nothing of this, yet I am willing to imagine that you were unaware of these abominations. But to maintain that viewpoint, I’m going to need some cooperation from you. I’m going to need your holy kiss on my bare arse.”
The patir was beet-red now, but the fratrex only smiled an odd little smile.
“I see.” He leaned forward. “I’m going to give you a bit of time to think about this, my friend.” He nodded, and the patir clapped his hands. A door he hadn’t noticed opened, and five large monks entered.
Cazio met the man’s gaze dead on. “I will tell you one thing: You shouldn’t go to Eslen. Anne will crush you.”
The Fratrex Prismo shook his head. “No, she won’t. I know something she doesn’t. If you help me, she might live. Otherwise I fear for her.”
“Fear for yourself,” Cazio snarled. “If you threaten Anne, I will have to kill you myself.”
“Really?” the fratrex said. “Well, you might as well do it now.” He nodded at the guards. “Gentlemen, loan us a pair of swords, won’t you.”
“Your grace,” one of the men said. He removed his heavy cut-and-thrust weapon and walked it over to the fratrex. Another man brought Cazio