"And then, yesterday, I received this."
He held up the folded paper he'd taken from his pocket.
"And that is?" Staynair asked politely.
"A personal letter from Archbishop Erayk," Ahdymsyn said very quietly. "One addressed jointly to Father Paityr and myself"
"I see."
Staynair managed to keep his fresh surprise out of his voice or expression, although the possibility of a letter from Erayk Dynnys to Ahdymsyn and Wylsynn had never occurred to him. Nor had there been any reason for him to suspect one had arrived. At Staynair's own insistence, Cayleb had directed that his "guests' " incoming mail was not to be tampered with. The king had insisted that any outgoing correspondence must be carefully examined and subject to censorship, but no one had attempted to restrict messages to Ahdymsyn or Wylsynn.
"Since the letter appears to be what inspired you to ask for this interview, may I assume you intend to share its contents with me?"
"You may, Your Eminence." Ahdymsyn's voice was heavy, his mouth grim.
"Your Eminence," he said, "Archbishop Erayk is dead."
"I beg your pardon?" Staynair sat suddenly straighter behind his desk.
"I said Archbishop Erayk is dead," Ahdymsyn repeated. "The news hasn't reached us here in Charis yet. I realize that. However, Archbishop Erayk's letter leaves me in no doubt that he is, indeed, dead by now. Executed by the Inquisition for malfeasance, apostasy, heresy, and treason against God's Church and against God Himself."
Staynair's face tightened. He needed no one to tell him what penalties
The Book of Schueler laid down for anyone convicted of those offenses, far less one of Mother Church's own archbishops.
"The archbishop's letter isn't lengthy, Your Eminence," Ahdymsyn said "He was denied access to paper and ink for the purposes of correspondence and had to improvise to obtain even this single sheet. I'm not certain how he managed to get this one note out, either, given his strict confinement by the Inquisition. I feel certain his silence on that point was intended to protect whoever he entrusted it to. But what it does say is very much to the point."
"And that point is?" Staynair asked quietly.
"He begins by informing Father Paityr and myself of the grounds for his arrest and the sentence passed upon him. He asks us to forgive him—and to pray for his soul—despite his many failures. He also specifically asked me to leave this letter with you, for you to make use of in whatever way seems best to you, and he apologizes for his failure to protect and nurture the souls of his archbishopric in the way God demands of His priests. And"—Ahdymsyn looked levelly into Staynair's eyes—"he makes bold to give us one last directive as our archbishop."
"And that directive is?"
"He does not order us, for he says he feels he no longer has that right, but he urgently entreats us to remain here in Charis. He says that he fears that, should we return to Zion or to the Temple Lands, we, too, would be forced to answer to the Inquisition. He accepts his own fate, but as our priestly superior, he enjoins us to preserve our lives against unjust punishment and judicial murder by remaining beyond the Inquisition's reach. And he begs us to do whatever we may to atone for his failure—and ours—as the spiritual shepherds of Charis."
Staynair sat back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. He would never have anticipated such a letter from Erayk Dynnys. Yet he had no doubt it was genuine, and he wondered what sort of spiritual pilgrimage Dynnys had experienced in the hands of the Inquisition to produce it. There was good in any man. Staynair believed that as firmly as he believed the sun would rise in the morning. But that good was more deeply hidden, more deeply buried, in some than in others, and he had thought the good in Erayk Dynnys was irretrievably buried under a mountain of careless venality and a lifetime's participation in the Temple's internal corruption.
But I was wrong, he thought. The finger of God can touch anyone, anywhere, through the most unlikely of avenues. I've always believed that, too. And here at the end of Erayk Dynnys' life, God has incontestably touched him.
The archbishop closed his eyes while he said a brief, intense prayer of thanks that even at the very end, Dynnys had found his way to God, clear-eyed despite the corrupting lenses through which he had been taught to look for Him. Then Staynair straightened and looked across at his visitors.
He understood now the peculiar fragility he'd sensed in Ahdymsyn. Like Dynnys—and unlike Wylsynn—Ahdymsyn was a man whose faith had taken second place to his secular responsibilities . . . and opportunities. In Dynnys' fate and letter, he'd seen the mirror of himself, and it must have been a terrifying glimpse. Yet, unlike Dynnys, he had the opportunity to profit from the experience in this world, not simply in the next. He could choose what decisions he would make in the life that remained to him, and it was obvious to Staynair that he found that possibility as frightening as it was exhilarating, as much a matter for shame as for a chance to make some sort of amends.
For young Wylsynn, however, it must have been quite a different shock. Staynair knew better than most that Wylsynn had entertained few illusions about the way in which the Church's actions so often betrayed the spirit of its own Holy Writ. But the scale of the corruption, and the horrific lengths to which the Group of Four had been prepared to go, must have hit him like a sledgehammer. And unlike Dynnys and Ahdymsyn, Paityr Wylsynn had never forgotten he was God's priest, never allowed the corruption around him and behind him to distract him from his spiritual duties.
And now one of the most blameless servants of Mother Church Staynair had ever known found himself directed by a fallen archbishop whose corruption must have been evident to Wylsynn all along to turn his back upon Mother Church. To deny her authority, reject her demands. A priest of the Inquisition had been commanded to defy the Grand Inquisitor himself by one of the Inquisition's very victims.
"May God have mercy on His true servant Erayk," Staynair murmured, touching first his heart and then his lips.
"Amen," Ahdymsyn and Wylsynn echoed.
"I am shocked and dismayed by Archbishop Erayk's fate," Staynair said then. "And yet, at the end of his life, I believe he rose to a level and an awareness of God which all too few of us ever attain.
"Nonetheless, I must tell both of you that one point of doctrine upon which I, and the Church of Charis, strongly disagree with the doctrine of the Council of Vicars is on the right—and responsibility—of any child of God to judge for himself or herself where the right truly lies and what it demands of him or her. The role of the Church is not to dictate, but to teach—to explain, educate, and enjoin. The role of the individual is to exercise his or her freedom of will in loving God and doing that which is right because it is right, and not simply because he is given no other choice."
Wylsynn stirred slightly in his chair, and Staynair looked at him.
"I tell you this, Father Paityr, because I refuse to mislead you or any other man as to my own stance upon this point. No man or woman can truly choose to serve God unless they are equally free to refuse to serve Him, and God desires for His people to come to Him clear-eyed and joyously, not cringing in terror of the Inquisition and the damnation of Hell. I intend to make it clear to all that I refuse to abuse the power of this office to dictate to the consciences of priests or the laity. That way lies the very corruption and casual abuse of power 'in the name of God' which has led us to this current break with the Council of Vicars. When Mother Church decides she may command whatever she desires of her children, then the feet of her priesthood are set firmly on the path into darkness. As Archbishop, at the head of the Church's hierarchy here in Charis, I may order policy, make decisions, and instruct both the episcopate and the priesthood. And, should those instructions be violated or ignored, I have the right and responsibility to remove those who cannot in conscience obey me from whatever offices they may hold within that hierarchy But a priest is a priest forever, Father. Unless he be found incontestably guilty of sin and the misuse of his office, no man may
take that office from him or deny him his vocation. Nor do I—or any man—have the right to excommunicate, torture, or kill any man or woman who simply does not or cannot believe that which I believe."
Wylsynn said nothing for a moment, then he inhaled deeply.
"Your Eminence, I'm a servant of the Inquisition. I believe you must recognize that I've always attempted to exercise the powers of my office in a way which meets my pastoral responsibilities and tempers discipline with love and understanding. Yet I've dedicated my entire life, my faith in God, to Mother Church's responsibility to preserve God's children from corruption. Not simply to 'convince' them of what their actions should be, but to protect them from the lures of Shan-wei by whatever means may be necessary."
"I realize that, Father. That's the very reason I've been so explicit in defining that doctrinal difference. I have great respect for your personal faith and for your character, both as a man and as a priest. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see you become a part of the process of reforming the Church's abuses—all of her abuses—here in Charis and elsewhere. I fully recognize what a tower of strength you could become in that daunting task. But this isn't a cause upon which any man, be he ever so much a priest, can embark unless he feels confident that it's his cause, and God's, as well as mine. Do you feel that confidence, Father?"
"I don't know," Wylsynn said simply quietly, meeting Staynair's level gaze with eyes of clear gray honesty. "I know the abuses of which you speak, of which Archbishop Erayk wrote, are real. I know what the Grand Inquisitor and Chancellor intended to happen to Charis, and I know it was wrong. Worse than wrong, it was evil, a betrayal of everything Mother Church is supposed to stand for and defend. Whatever else it might have been, I know it could not have been the will of God. Yet there's a great difference between agreeing that what they've done is wrong and agreeing that what you've done is right."
"I appreciate your honesty, Father. And I trust the clarity of your spiritual vision. I won't try to convert you to my view today. Obviously, until your own faith and your own conscience convince you that what we're trying to accomplish here in Charis is right, no one could expect you to lend yourself to it. But I ask you to consider what you yourself have seen, what Archbishop Erayk has written to you, the words and deeds of the Church of Charis, and the touch of God upon your own heart. Approach it in prayer and sober meditation, Father, not in a white heat. If you find in time that God moves you to embrace our efforts, then we will welcome you as a brother and a fellow servant of God. And if God doesn't move you to join us, we will respect and accept that decision, as well."
"And in the meantime, Your Eminence?"
"And in the meantime, Father, I would be most grateful if you would continue to exercise the office of Intendant here in Charis. As you say, no one in this Kingdom has ever entertained the least doubt of your determination to apply the Proscriptions honestly and fairly. It would be immensely reassuring to all of our people to know you continue in that position in this time of turmoil and change."
"If I were to agree to any such thing, Your Eminence, then I would continue to exercise that office in the way I see fit."
"Which is no more and no less than I would wish of you, Father."
"Even if it brings us into conflict, Your Eminence?"
"Father," Staynair said with a gentle smile, "given the way you've met your responsibilities in the past, I see absolutely no reason to believe that you would find yourself in conflict with me over the matter of the Proscriptions. If we disagree, then, obviously, each of us will attempt to convince the other, but I've never seen you make a capricious decision, or, for that matter, one with which I disagreed. I see no reason to expect you to make any such decision now.
"It's true that we may have some differences of opinion upon the proper use of the coercive authority of your office. As you say, you believe that the Church's responsibility is to protect against corruption by 'whatever means are necessary' whereas I believe her responsibility is to teach and convince. That external compulsion cannot generate the internal strength to resist darkness and evil when they come upon each and every one of us in our daily lives. I suspect you may now find yourself somewhat more leery of the term 'whatever means are necessary' than you were before the Group of Four's invasion attempt, but I have no doubt we may yet find ourselves on opposite sides over some issue of doctrinal enforcement. If that time comes, I'll certainly attempt to convince you to accept my view of the situation, but you will always have the right to resign your office—and to publicly state your reasons for doing so. And I will never attempt to compel you to accept or publicly endorse my position on any matter in which your conscience cannot agree with me."
"With your permission, Your Eminence, I will say neither yes nor no today," Wylsynn said after a long, thoughtful moment. "As you yourself have suggested, this isn't a decision, a choice, which should be rushed into. I would prefer to meditate and pray that God will show me my direction before I give you an answer."
"I can ask no more than that of any priest, Father." Staynair smiled at the young man, then looked back to Ahdymsyn. "Nor can I ask more than that of any bishop executor," he said with another smile. "Obviously, I would welcome both of you for political reasons, as well as spiritual ones, but neither I nor King Cayleb will attempt to dictate to your consciences. How can we do that, when so much of our quarrel with the Council of Vicars lies in its attempt to do just that to all of God's children? Whatever your final decision, however, know this. On my own authority, in the full expectation that King Cayleb will agree, but even if he does not, I grant both of you sanctuary. Whether or not you find it in your hearts and souls to join with us in our effort to transform Mother Church back into what God would truly have her be, you may remain here, in Charis, under the protection of the Church of Charis, for however long you choose."
.IV.
Royal Palace and
Monastery of Saint Zherneau,
City of Tellesberg,
Kingdom of Charis
A moment, if you please, Seijin Merlin." Merlin paused and looked up in some surprise as Archbishop Maikel laid a large, powerful hand lightly on his shoulder.
"Yes, Your Eminence? How may I help you?"
They stood just inside the door of the chamber the rest of the Royal Council had just left, and Cayleb looked back at them with one eyebrow raised.
"Is there something we still need to talk about, Maikel?" the king asked.
"Actually, Your Majesty," Staynair said, his tone more formal than usual, "I'd like to borrow the seijin for the afternoon, if I might." Cayleb's surprise showed rather more clearly than Merlin's had, and the archbishop smiled. "I promise I'll have him back in time for supper, Your Majesty. I simply have a minor matter I need to discuss with him, and since I have a pastoral errand to run in the city this afternoon, anyway, I thought I might ask him to come along with me. Just as a precaution, you understand."
Cayleb's expression tightened abruptly. The attempt to assassinate Archbishop Maikel was entirely too fresh in his memory for him to misunderstand what sort of "precaution" Staynair had in mind. Especially in view of what had happened to the Royal College three days before.
"If you need additional protection, Maikel—" the king began, but Staynair shook his head.
"I'm not really especially concerned about assassins, Your Majesty," he said with a half smile. "Not this time, at least. However, I do have a visit I want to pay this afternoon, and under the circumstances, I'd really prefer not to draw a great deal of attention to it. Unfortunately, I'd be just a tad noticeable if I take along a passel of armsmen. Given the unfortunate events in the Cathedral, what's happened to the College, and the way feelings in general seem to be running, I'd hate for a private trip to visit an old friend who's not feeling especially well to focus any potential hostility on a simple monastery, and it's only too possible I might make certain people think I must be up to something if they realize I'm going there at all.
Fortunately, I feel quite confident"—his smile grew broader—"that Captain Athrawes would be more than up to the task of keeping us both intact if I made the trip . . . incognito, shall we say?"
"Is it really important enough to risk having you running around the streets 'incognito' at a time like this?" Cayleb asked.
"He's a very old friend, Your Majesty," Staynair replied quietly, "and his health has been failing for some time now. It isn't just a visit of friendship."
Cayleb gazed at the prelate for a moment or two, then drew a deep breath and nodded. Merlin wasn't particularly surprised by the king's capitulation, even though the notion of anything happening to Maikel Staynair at this particular moment in the history of Safehold was, frankly, just this side of terrifying. That was probably even truer for Merlin than it was for Cayleb, if Merlin was going to be honest, and after the earlier attempt no one—not even Staynair—could pretend the Temple Loyalists hadn't figured out the same thing. But both Merlin and Cayleb knew nothing they could possibly say would dissuade Staynair from the discharge of his priestly office. If they could have dissuaded him, he would have been someone else . . . and he wouldn't have been so vital to their hopes for the future.
"Very well," the king said. Then he moved his eyes to Merlin. "Do try to keep him in one piece, please, Merlin. Again."
Staynair had the grace to wince ever so slightly at the king's final word, but he didn't let it change his mind.
"I'll do my very best, Your Majesty," Merlin assured Cayleb, and glanced at the towering Royal Guardsman who'd been waiting outside the council room door.
Sergeant Payter Faircaster was the only member of Crown Prince Cayleb's Marine bodyguard to formally transfer to the Guard when Cayleb assumed the throne. Ahrnahld Fhalkhan and the rest of Cayleb's old bodyguards were now protecting Crown Prince Zhan, Cayleb's eleven-year-old younger brother. The change of assignment had been hard on both Cayleb and the men who had protected him for so long, but the security of the heir to the Charisian throne had been a responsibility of the Royal Charisian Marines since time out of mind. Faircaster might well have stayed with the old detachment as well, but Cayleb had insisted that at least one of "his" Marines had to come along. . . in no small part because they already knew about Merlin's "visions." Having someone else along to help cover for Merlin's occasional. . . peculiarities, at least until they'd decided which of the king's new guardsmen could be admitted to that same knowledge, had struck the young king as a very good idea.