The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [109]
“But it isn’t just on the frontiers—Broogh was in the heart of Newland, and destroyed by an unholy creature none of us suspected remained in the world. Now is the time for nations to unite, not for them to be divided. You must stand together against this dark rising of the tide, not fight amongst yourselves as it drowns you. That is what I am offering you—not merely the chance to save this earthly throne, but to make it possible for us all to combat the real foe—together.”
“Under the leadership of z’Irbina.”
Hespero fingered his beard. “The reason we do not take sides in the secular conflicts of nations, Majesty, is because we have a higher calling. Virgenya Dare cleansed our world of the first evil, of the Skasloi. And yet it seems that no matter how well and deeply evil is defeated, it always returns, in a different guise. It is the Church which took up Virgenya Dare’s mantle and her mission. When the Black Jester rose, it was through the leadership of the Church that he was thrown down in defeat.”
“Yes. And then the Church ruled most of the known world for six hundred years.”
“It was a golden age,” Hespero said, frowning at her tone. “The most perfect peace and prosperity Everon has ever known.”
“You wish a return to that?”
“We could do worse, but I am suggesting no such outcome. What I am saying is that we must be unified, and not through war or conquest. We need a cleansing, a resacaratum, that will prepare us for the great test to come. The resacaratum has already begun, Majesty, within the Church itself, but it must—it will—go further than that.”
“You’re asking me to let an army march through my gates and occupy my country without a fight.”
“By holy mandate, Majesty. To bring the peace and justice Crotheny so desperately needs.”
“What if I refuse?” Muriele asked.
Hespero’s face seemed to wither a little. “Then you deal us all a mortal blow,” he said. “But we will be unified—we will fight this evil somehow. I am suggesting the best course of action, but not the only one.”
“Suggest another,” she challenged.
He shook his head, and his eyes glinted strangely. “It should not come to that. Please, Majesty—will you at least consider my words?”
“Of course, Praifec,” she said. “They are wise words, and these are large matters, and I am tired. We will speak of this again soon. Be prepared to tell me in more specifics how your plan would be implemented.”
“I pray the saints send you their best judgment, Majesty.” He bowed and left, leaving Muriele with the distinct impression that she had been threatened.
Hespero seemed sincere, and he was correct—something terrible was happening in the world, and he probably knew more about it than she did. The Church’s intention might be entirely pure, and it was entirely possible that Hespero was right, that allowing sacred troops in her city would be the best for everyone.
But she saw what the praifec had carefully hinted at, as well. Whatever the Church’s ultimate motives and intentions, they needed a tool to accomplish them. A nation. If Crotheny would not be that nation, only Hansa remained.
She was still considering that when they brought in Alis Berrye, who was still wearing the dressing gown Muriele had last seen her in.
“Majesty,” the girl murmured, bowing. She stood uncomfortably as Muriele appraised her. She was a pretty thing—there was no way around that, even with the dark circles under her sapphire eyes and her curly hair in absolute disarray.
“She has been searched?” she asked the man-at-arms.
“Yes, Majesty. She has no weapons.”
“You searched her hair?”
“Ah—no, Majesty. But I shall.”
He proceeded to do just that. Berrye took it with a tiny smile on her face.
“Do I seem so dangerous to you, Majesty?” she asked.
Muriele didn’t answer, but nodded toward the man-at-arms. “Please leave us, sir,” she said.
When the door was closed behind him, Muriele settled into an armchair.
“Lady Berrye,” she said. “Much has happened in the past few bells. Doubtless you have heard some of the rumors.”
“Some, Majesty,