Page 39 of The King’s Commander

Chapter Fourteen

Vanni

This was the closest I’ve come to injuring a man of God.

I fought a Shadow Warrior once, a guest of Castle d’Almerita. Though Father Aiken arrived with the Prima, I immediately sensed something different about him. While many of the Eldermen and their warriors shared their leader’s extreme views, this one held his tongue during his time as the king’s guest.

Father Aiken and I challenged each other each day of his visit. He defeated me the first day. And I him, on the second.

As I got to know the man, I found there was little to dislike. Our beliefs were different, but he was a good, honorable man, and one of the best warriors I’d ever had the pleasure of fighting.

So I know there are good men and bad in the church. But I am equally certain Father Beald belongs to the latter group. He is no warrior, however, so I could not challenge him as I did Father Aiken. I had to use words, and the ones I chose were sharper than any blade. The Elderman, as I said to Aedre, promised never again to return to Murwood End.

“How did you know he was bothering me?”

I take a deep, steadying breath. So much for my reputation for even temperament. Still angry, I remind myself it is over. He won’t bother her again.

“I saw you as soon as I came in.”

I don’t tell her that it was as if I felt her presence. Nonsense, of course, but I was not surprised to see her here.

“Your expression.”

Aedre says nothing but pulls her ale closer.

“What did he say to you?”

I drink, waiting for her answer. It takes a moment for her to speak.

“‘I’ve visited your grandmother,’” she finally says, her voice cracking. “‘The great Lady Edrys did not appear very well. Such a shame. So few Garra remain. I shouldn’t be surprised if there’s one less one day soon.’”

I almost regret making her repeat it.

“Aedre . . .”

Wanting to comfort her, knowing I cannot, I choose instead to explain my own exchange with Father Beald. I glance around before speaking, but no one is paying us any mind. Our table is at a distance from the others, as intimate a setting as possible in the midst of a small hall.

“King Galfrid has little patience for Father Silvester.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Their relationship has been strained for years, and it will only worsen if the church attempts to interfere in the naming of a successor.”

“Their recommendation of Lord Hinton, you mean.”

“Aye. But even so, Silvester needs the king’s support, and for the time being that king is still Galfrid. He’s threatened to take away Avalon before. Nearly did so last winter. I simply reminded Beald of my position at court and of Galfrid and Silvester’s tenuous relationship.”

Her eyes widen.

“The king would excommunicate the Prima from Meria?”

I pause, looking at her stew. After a long day of training, more and more locals challenging me in wake of my defeat of Agnar, the smell prompts me to ask for a bowl as well as a serving maid walks by.

“Eat,” I say when she pauses.

Aedre picks up the pewter spoon, and I try not to watch her lips too closely as they open. Imagine, to be jealous of a beef stew. Shifting in my seat, I force my eyes upward.

Since she sees me clearly, I don’t hide the direction of my thoughts.

“What were we discussing?” I say.

Amused, she takes another bite of stew.