“I know something of Kwanitupul, Lord Tiamak. You have told me about it before.”

He smiled. “Yes, but I am not talking about Kwanitupul. I am talking about traveling away from one’s home and familiar surroundings. Because Kwanitupul was only the most magnificent, terrifying thing I had ever seen for a very brief while. Then I went on to Perdruin, an island that seemed to me as large as the Wran, and most of it one big and bustling city. And then I saw Nabban itself . . . !” Tiamak shook his head. “I am glad I did not see that first after I left the swamp, because I think such size and noise and bustle would have stopped my heart.”

“But I am not, if you will forgive me, Lord, a Wrannaman,” Etan said. “I live in one of the Osten Ard’s largest cities. I have met people from all over the world here. It is not quite the same as living in . . . well, a swamp.”

“No, of course it isn’t. But the point I am trying to make is that there is nothing that grows one’s thoughts so much as seeing new things.” Slowly, Tiamak told himself. Slowly, so as only to dazzle, not blind. “You are a very wise young man, Etan, but you have been sheltered. This is your chance to see parts of the world even Archbishop Gervis has never seen and never will see.”

“But why? That is my question? Why me? And why this strange task now, when there seem to be so many other things I could turn my hand to?”

“Because I think you would be the best choice for the task, first of all.” Tiamak let himself become a little firmer. “I have some experience of the people, and some little experience of wisdom, and I do not often say, ‘There is a man who is already wise, but who can become wiser still, a true and rare thinker’. But I believe you are such a person.”

Now Etan was clearly confused again. “But could not anyone do this better than me, my lord? Some knight, or better still some nobleman who could compel people to answer his questions?”

“Anybody can lie, Brother. People tell the powerful folk what they think those folk want to hear. That, or they deem power too dangerous and so they do not tell them anything at all. If we send a large royal mission, with Sir Zakiel or Count Eolair in charge, people will line up to tell them half-truths and honest rumors in the hope of currying favor. That is not the way to learn something truly useful—and it is certainly no way to keep what you want to learn a secret.”

“This is to be secret?”

“How else? Should we, in a time when another war with the Norns seems all too frighteningly possible, trumpet the news that King John’s only surviving son, who most think died in the last battle with the Storm King, is actually alive but we have lost track of him, along with his wife and two royal children? It would take years to unravel the true and false stories that would follow such a revelation, not to mention it would doubtless spawn pretenders to the throne as well, all claiming to be one of Josua’s vanished children. And do you not think the news of this disappearance would also be keenly appreciated under Stormspike? Then we would find ourselves not just looking for Josua, but quite possibly in a competition to find him against the Norns themselves.”

“I suppose I see some sense in what you say.” Etan frowned, thinking it over. “But why now? As you say, we might soon be at war—although I confess I had not realized the situation was so dire. Why dig up a matter that has lain undisturbed for twenty years or more?”

Tiamak could not repress a sigh. “Because it has not lain undisturbed for twenty years. No, we have tried on several occasions to find out the truth of Josua’s disappearance and always failed. But two things make this a current problem. One is that our king and queen made a promise to Duke Isgrimnur on his deathbed to renew the search for Josua’s children—Isgrimnur’s god-children. Solace to the soul of that good old man would be reason enough, trust me. But there is another reason, one even the king and queen have not yet entirely realized. No, don’t ask me yet,” he said, forestalling Etan’s questions. “Each thing in its own time. Let us go to my chambers. My wife is caring for the poisoned Sithi-woman, so we will have some privacy for a little while that we cannot have anywhere else in this busy city or even the castle. Come.”

•   •   •

Brother Etan was clearly still troubled. Tiamak sympathized—it was a great deal to take in all at once. “How did you come to work in the castle?” he asked, pouring them each a cup of wine.

“In the castle? Because Lord Pasevalles asked for me, my lord, and the Archbishop said I might go and help him in the Chancelry.”

Tiamak could not help smiling. “No, in fact, that is not quite how you came to work in the castle. I had been watching you, and when Pasevalles was looking for help I suggested he ask for you. Obviously, he found my suggestion useful. And I have been selfish enough to employ you for a few tasks myself, as you know. But that is not precisely the question that should interest you. Why do you think I noticed you?”

Etan lifted his hands in frustration. “I have no idea, Lord Tiamak, and in truth I am a bit weary answering, because it seems everything I know is wrong.”

“Very good. I like that you stand up for yourself. A man of philosophy must trust his own thoughts, at least enough to follow them and see where they lead. I noticed you because you were ambitious.” He held up his hand. “No, no, I do not mean it in any bad way. You were not seeking fame, or reward. But you have what I would call a restless mind. It is not content to do things the old way simply because that is how they have always been done. You look at a problem as something to be solved, rather than something to be avoided. That is a form of ambition. And you have ideas. That is ambition, too. Do you remember when you told Pasevalles that hanging baskets on a loop of rope would be faster for moving things back and forth between the Treasury and the Chancelry than using messengers?”

“I recall it now that you say it,” said Etan. “But how do you know about it?”

“Because I have made it my business to know about you, Brother. I am interested in people who think for themselves, who value knowledge as knowledge, but also for what good it may do their fellow men.” Tiamak sipped a little of his own wine. “This is not very good, I’m afraid. Neither Lady Thelía nor I drink spirits often, so we never know what to keep on hand for other people.”

Etan waved his hand to show that it did not matter.

“Very well,” Tiamak said. “Listen carefully, because much of what I will tell you now will bear directly on your task—a task, as I should have made clear at the beginning, that you are free to refuse.”

The monk’s look of surprise grew more exaggerated. “I am? I confess, I did not know that.”

“Of course. Unless it were an obvious matter of life or death, I would not send someone away against his will—away from, as you said, his home and his work. But I suspect by the time I’ve finished talking to you here, you will see the benefits of this opportunity and will not hesitate to accept it.”

A certain interest crept into Etan’s face. “Truly? Is that a wager, my lord?”

“Of sorts. Let’s say this—if you do not see the clear advantages to you in taking this task, and ask for it to be given to you, I will apologize and we will never speak of it again. You will bear no stain or discredit for refusing. Is that fair?”

“More than fair.”

“Good. Then listen while I begin with the story of Ealhstan— the Fisher King as many of the people call him—the first true Erkynlandish king. He was also, by the way, King Simon’s ancestor.”

“I have heard something about that.”

“Not much, I wager. The king is oddly ashamed of his own blood—no, not his blood, but the right to rule that was granted him because of it. But that is common to much of what we are going to talk about now—the fact that in some ways, great men and women are just as foolishly complicated as the rest of us.”