The Bastard King (The Scepter of Mercy Book 1) by Harry Turtledove

Author:Harry Turtledove [Turtledove, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781504027465
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2015-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The yellow-robed cleric named Daption bowed low before King Grus. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry to have to tell you that Arch-Hallow Bucco met the common fate of all mankind last night. The end must have come easily—he went to bed in the evening, and no one could wake him come morning.”

“That is an easy passing,” Grus agreed. “My father was lucky in his going, too. I wonder if I will be.” He sighed. The gods knew the answer to that, but he wouldn’t, not till the day.

“May it be so, Your Majesty,” the cleric said, and then, quickly, “May you not need to learn for many years to come. I meant no offense, no ill-wish, no—”

Grus raised a hand. “You didn’t offend me. I understood what you meant.”

“Your Majesty is gracious,” Daption said, relief in his voice. “Uh, have you yet thought about who will follow Bucco as Arch-Hallow of Avornis? There are, of course, several good candidates from among the senior clerics of the capital, and no doubt others in the provinces, as well. Do you know when you will announce Bucco’s replacement, or will you ask for advice from the hierarchy before making your choice?”

“Arch-Hallow Bucco was a bold and powerful man,” Grus observed. “He always had his own notion of what should be done.”

“Indeed he did.” The yellow-robed priest sounded proud to have served under such a man. But Grus hadn’t meant it for praise. As far as he was concerned, Bucco had stuck his nose where an arch-hallow had no business putting it. Daption coughed a couple of times before continuing, “As I say, Your Majesty, there are several excellent candidates for the position. If you like, we would be pleased to submit to you a list of the possibilities, from whom you may, of course, choose.”

“I’m sure you’d be pleased,” Grus said. Like the nobility, the priesthood wanted more power for itself and less of what it saw as interference from the Kings of Avornis. Of course, what it saw as interference looked like necessary oversight to Grus, as it had to the kings who came before him. “I won’t need a list, though. I know the man I want as arch-hallow.”

“Do you?” Daption raised an eyebrow in polite disappointment. “And he is—?”

“His name is Anser,” Grus replied.

Daption thought for a moment, then frowned. “I’m very sorry, Your Majesty, but I must confess I do not know the name. From what city does he come?”

“From Anxa, down in the south,” Grus said.

“I … see,” Daption said. “How interesting. Since the Menteshe came, we haven’t had so many arch-hallows from that part of the kingdom. Not a few kings have feared to choose southern men because of the possible taint from the Banished One.”

“I’m not worried about that here,” Grus said firmly.

“I do admire your intrepid spirit, Your Majesty.” The yellow-robed cleric made his praise sound like, I think you’re out of your mind, Your Majesty. His frown hadn’t gone away, either. “What is this

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