"Siddarmark and Delferahk?" Cayleb repeated, then snorted when Merlin nodded. "Those two are just a little far apart to be ganging up on us, aren't they?"

"Yes and no, unfortunately," Merlin said grimly. "And it wasn't exactly their idea, either. You see-"

September, Year of God 892

.I.

Tellesberg Palace,

Tellesberg,

Kingdom of Charis

It was odd, the Earl of Pine Hollow thought as he was escorted into the Tellesberg Palace throne room once more. He hadn't believed he could feel more nervous than he had on the occasion of his first visit here.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

He followed the pair of guardsmen, one in the black and gold of Charis and the other in the silver and blue of Chisholm, across the polished stone floor, under the silently turning fans. It was much the same room as before, he noticed . . . aside from the minor fact that the raised dais was a bit larger and that it no longer supported only a single throne.

No wonder he wanted time to "think about his response. " Despite his own internal tension, Pine Hollow found it hard not to smile as he looked at the attractive young woman sitting in the throne to Cayleb's right. I can hardly believe the two of them managed to put this entire marriage together without anyone in Emerald catching so much as a sniff of it! Nahrmahn was right about Sharleyan all along, though. And he was right about something else, too. Cayleb is dangerous enough by himself; the two of them together are going to turn Hektor into kraken bait, and when that happens, I'd rather be in the boat with them than in the water with Hektor.

The Earl of Gray Harbor stood between the two thrones, effectively at the shoulders of each of the two monarchs seated in them, and Archbishop Maikel stood to the king's left. Aside from the first councilor, the archbishop, and their personal bodyguards, Cayleb and Sharleyan were alone. That was interesting. The lack of additional councilors-and witnesses-argued, among other things, that the two of them intended to speak. . . frankly. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing for Emerald remained to be seen, of course.

He stopped at the correct distance from the pair of thrones, bowed to both of the seated monarchs, then straightened and stood waiting respectfully.

"Well, My Lord," Cayleb said after several thoughtful moments, "I did say we'd talk again, I believe."

"Indeed, you did, Your Majesty." Pine Hollow allowed himself a small smile. "At the time, however, you allowed me to assume that there would be only one monarch present when we did."

"As you see, our spymasters are better than yours." Cayleb smiled back, and his tone was light, almost whimsical. His eyes, however, Pine Hollow noted, didn't smile.

"In point of fact, Your Majesty, we'd already deduced that in light of certain other small surprises we've suffered of late. I believe it had something to do with what happened to our fleet-among other people's"-he allowed his eyes to flit briefly sideways to Sharleyan-"in the recent . . . unpleasantness."

"An interesting choice of words," Cayleb observed. He, too, glanced at the queen seated beside him. Then he looked back at Pine Hollow. "It was indeed 'unpleasant,' My Lord. And, in the event, rather more unpleasant for some than for others. If we were inclined to spend our time rehashing all of our mutual reasons for enmity, we'd still be sitting here this time next year, however. So, bearing in mind the reason your Prince sent you here, Queen Sharleyan and I propose to move forward, rather than look back. Neither of us, however, is blind to the past, My Lord. In fact, we remember everything that's passed, and it would be wise of you and your Prince to bear that in mind. And to remember what I said a moment ago. Our spymasters are very, very good."

Pine Hollow inclined his head in silent acknowledgment of Cayleb's point. It wasn't one he or Nahrmahn was ever likely to forget.

"You may have noted, My Lord, that I said Queen Sharleyan and I propose to move forward. Allow me to be specific, just in case the contacts I'm certain you've been cultivating here in Tellesberg have failed to provide you with the full specifics. When Her Majesty and I wed one another in a few days' time, we will lay the foundation for a new realm, the Empire of Charis. Queen Sharleyan will continue to rule Chisholm in her own right, and I will continue to rule Charis in my own right, but both of those kingdoms will become subordinate to and included in the Empire of Charis. The crown of that empire will be held initially by me, but Queen Sharleyan will be my coruler, not simply my consort. She will become not simply my wife, not simply my senior councilor, but my regent and my deputy. Any decision she reaches in my absence will be as valid as any decision I myself might have reached. And should I predecease her, the Empire's crown-and the crown of 'the Old Kingdom of Charis'-will pass first to her, and only after her death to our eldest child.

"What this means for you and for Emerald, My Lord, is twofold. First, the terms which will be offered to your Prince are those upon which Her Majesty and I have mutually agreed. They aren't the terms of Charis, and they aren't the terms of Chisholm; they are our terms, and they aren't subject to negotiation. Your choice, My Lord, is to accept them or to reject them. Is that point clear?"

"It is, Your Majesty." Pine Hollow kept his voice even, although it was difficult. It was obvious Cayleb was doing his very best to avoid grinding Emerald's pride into the dirt any more thoroughly than he must, but the fact remained that he-and Sharleyan, Pine Hollow reminded himself-were dictating terms. The fact that they had the power to do that made the experience no more enjoyable from the other side.

"Very well," Cayleb said. "In that case, understand the second consequence for Emerald. Your Prince's independence must come to an end and Emerald must become a part of the new Empire of Charis.

"There are two ways in which this might be accomplished, and to be perfectly honest, the one which most appeals to me on a personal basis, for many reasons, would be to depose Prince Nahrmahn and formally annex Emerald as a part of the Kingdom of Charis. As you and I are both aware, I have many personal reasons to feel less than fond, shall we say, of your Prince, and I suppose it's only human of me to wish to make that point abundantly clear to him.

"However, after further consideration and after discussing the matter fully with Queen Sharleyan, we've decided to adopt a second approach. Instead of adding your princedom to the territory of the Kingdom of Charis, which we would be fully entitled to do, having secured our claim by force of arms, we propose to add the Princedom of Emerald to the Empire of Charis as an intact unit."

Pine Hollow's mental ears pricked. He felt his shoulders stiffen, but he managed to keep any hint of emotion out of his expression.

"Assuming Prince Nahrmahn is prepared to accept the sovereignty of the Empire of Charis and its ruler, and to give expression to any requirements for domestic change that ruler may make upon him, accepting that the imperial crown has the right to issue whatever instructions it, in its own good judgment, finds most appropriate, he will be permitted to retain the crown of the Princedom of Emerald and will become the second-ranking noble of the Empire. Only the heir apparent to the imperial crown will take precedence over him."

This time, Pine Hollow couldn't keep the astonishment-and vast relief-from showing. Cayleb noted it, and smiled thinly.

"It would be well, My Lord, for you and Prince Nahrmahn to disabuse yourselves of any notion that this means it will be 'business as usual' for him in Emerald. The Emperor-or Empress-of Charis will be the master-or mistress-of the Empire. Your Prince will retain his throne only at the pleasure of the Emperor. He would be well advised to remember that firmly, because I assure you, Queen Sharleyan and I most definitely will."

Pine Hollow nodded silently, and Cayleb's smile grew slightly warmer.

"Neither the Queen nor I are blind to the realities of human nature, or to the fact that from your Prince's viewpoint, his reasons for enmity with Charis have been just as valid and just as real as Charis' reasons for enmity with him. Bearing that in mind, and rather than rely solely upon the power of the sword to enforce his obedience to our decree, we would prefer to find another means to encourage and sustain his obedience and cooperation. To be blunt My Lord, we believe there are many ways in which Prince Nahrmahn could be of enormous value to the Empire of Charis, just as we recognize that there are many ways in which he might be tempted to create problems, instead. And so, as a means of demonstrating our sincerity when we state that Prince Nahrmahn will be the Empire's second-ranking noble, one of the conditions of any treaty between us will be the betrothal of his eldest daughter to Crown Prince Zhan of Charis."

Pine Hollow's eyes flew wide. That was a possibility which had never occurred to him or to Nahrmahn. He knew his expression was giving away entirely too much, but Cayleb-and Sharleyan, he noticed-only smiled.

"The Queen has no brothers or sisters," Cayleb continued after a moment. "Nor, obviously, does she have a child of her body. As such, Zhan will be our joint heir until such time as we produce children of our own. And, equally obviously, Zhan and Zhanayt will stand very close to the succession even after we do produce children of our own. As a pledge on our part that we will support and defend Prince Nahrmahn as we would any other vassal of the Crown, so long as he remains mindful of his own obligations to the Crown, we propose to unite his family with our family. We realize there are some years difference in age between Zhan and Princess Mahrya, but the difference is less than in many marriages made for far less weighty purposes. And, to be perfectly honest, we believe Princess Mahrya would be well suited to become Empress Consort of Charis should it chance that the Queen and I die without heirs of our bodies."

"Your Majesty-Your Majesties-this is far more generous than my Prince or I dared to contemplate," Pine Hollow said, and for perhaps the first time in his life as an envoy or a councilor to the Crown, there was not even a trace of diplomatic hyperbole in his response. "To be honest, my Prince feared-and was prepared to face-your demand for his imprisonment, or even his execution. Certainly he never contemplated the possibility that you might offer to unite his house with yours-with both of your houses-instead."

"I will be frank, My Lord," Sharleyan said, speaking for the first time. "The terms King Cayleb has just described to you originated almost entirely from his suggestions, not mine. As you, I was astounded by the generosity of his proposals. Had I been in his place, I think I would have found it far more difficult to have responded in such a way after such a long and intense period of hostility. Nonetheless, on mature reflection, I believe he's shown as much wisdom as generosity in this instance. While I would never go so far as to say I believe Prince Nahrmahn's conscience is as pure as the driven snow, I will say, as someone who was compelled, against her will, to support her Kingdom's most bitter enemy in a totally unjustified war against an innocent friend, that I realize full well that not all which has passed between Emerald and Charis was of Prince Nahrmahn's doing. In that sense, at least, we've all been victims of the Group of Four and of the corruption which has so contaminated and tainted the Church. As Cayleb said to me when we discussed this matter, it's long past time for us to turn our attention to the challenges- and the great enemy-we hold in common. The Writ teaches that reconciliation is one of the godly virtues. Very well. Let us be reconciled with Prince Nahrmahn, and with Emerald, and then let us go forward together to face the great struggle of our lives."

"Your Majesty," Pine Hollow said with a profound bow, "I see the reports of your wisdom which our admittedly inferior Emeraldian spymasters"-he allowed himself a wry smile-"have managed to bring us in Eraystor have failed to do you justice. As my Prince's plenipotentiary, I accept your most generous terms in his name. Nor do I fear that he will feel any temptation to override my acceptance."

"So long as both of you understand this, My Lord," Cayleb reentered the conversation. Pine Hollow looked at him, and the king's eyes were hard. "First, there will be no second chance. So long as Prince Nahrmahn keeps faith with us, we will keep faith with him. But should he prove faithless, there will be no generosity, no mercy, the next time."

"I understand, Your Majesty," Pine Hollow said quietly.

"Then understand this second point equally clearly, My Lord. By these terms, by this marriage, we will bring an end to the enmity between the House of Ahrmahk and the House of Baytz. But in so doing, your Prince-as Queen Sharleyan and myself-will have declared his personal war-the war of our houses, not simply the war of our realms-against the Group of Four, the Council of Vicars, and the Grand Vicar himself. There will be no going back, Earl Pine Hollow. This decision, this declaration, is forever. The only possible outcomes are victory or total destruction, and I advise you and your Prince to think long and hard upon the nature of the death the Grand Inquisitor visited upon Erayk Dynnys. That is the fate which awaits any of the Temple's enemies who fall into its power."

"I understand that, as well, Your Majesty," Pine Hollow said even more quietly, meeting Cayleb's eyes levelly. "Indeed, Prince Nahrmahn himself said very much the same thing to me. I won't pretend I was happy to hear it, or that the thought of raising my own hand, far less my sword, against Mother Church didn't fill me with dismay. I'm a son of Mother Church, and all I ever wanted was to be loyal to her. But how can any man of conscience be loyal to someone who, as my Prince put it, 'whistled up our Princedom like a hired footpad and ordered us to cut an innocent man's throat'?"

"A valid question, My Lord," Sharleyan said softly. "Alas, there are those who will insist obedience to God's Church requires them to acquiesce even in acts such as that, when commanded to do so by men who wear the orange."

"I was such a man, Your Majesty," Pine Hollow acknowledged. "And in some small corner of my soul, I wish I still were. My heart misses that certainty. But, as Archbishop Maikel's letter made painfully clear, there is indeed a distinction between God Himself and the Archangels, on the one hand, and mortal, corrupt men who claim to speak in God's name, upon the other. What we owe to God, we do not owe to those who pervert all He is to serve their own ends."

"If that's truly Prince Nahrmahn's opinion as well as your own, My Lord," Cayleb said, "then Queen Sharleyan and I will welcome him warmly. Just as"-he smiled suddenly-"I'm certain the Group of Four will welcome all of us 'warmly,' if perhaps, in a somewhat different fashion, should they ever have the opportunity!"

.II.

Tellesberg Cathedral,

City of Tellesberg,

Kingdom of Charis

Tropical sunlight poured through Tellesberg Cathedral's stained-glass clerestory, spilling down over the richly adorned statuary and the towering mosaic of the Archangels Langhorne and Bedard which reared high above the worshippers. Organ music had filled the huge cathedral virtually without interruption since an hour after dawn, and superbly trained choirs, drawn from the entire Kingdom of Charis, had taken their turns, lifting their voices in hymns of praise, of supplication, and of blessing. The walls were trimmed with the white blossoms of the mountain spike-thorn which was the traditional bridal flower of Charis, and more of the gorgeous blossoms were heaped and piled in and around the sanctuary.

Most mountain spike-thorn came in various shades of deep, rich red, but the white spike-thorn's trumpet-shaped blossoms boasted throats of deep, almost cobalt blue, fading to purest white, edged in deep golden yellow, at the trumpet's "bell." It was part of the Charisian marriage tradition for family and well-wishers to bring their own sprays of spike-thorn, and the packed cathedral was filled with drifts of flowers whose sweetly scented perfume overpowered even the incense.

King Cayleb and Queen Sharleyan had attended a private predawn mass, before the cathedral was opened to the public. Now, six hours later, the enormous structure was packed to overflowing, and a tense aura of anticipation hovered in its air like smoke. The waiting worshippers were a sea of brilliant fabrics, gems, and jewelry, but there were plainer strands woven through that richly textured matrix. By long tradition, a third of the cathedral's seating was reserved for commoners on a first-arrival basis whenever a member of the royal family was married, baptized, or buried. Most of the "commoners" who took advantage of that tradition were themselves at least moderately wealthy, but there were always some who were not, and today, those of humbler status seemed to be in the ascendant.

Well, of course they are, Merlin Athrawes thought as he waited patiently for King Cayleb and his bride and watched the imagery superimposed on his field of view. The sensors he and Owl had sown so thickly throughout the cathedral in the wake of the failed assassination attempt drove that display, giving him a panoramic view of the entire cathedral which he could manipulate and study as he chose.

The people of this Kingdom genuinely love Cayleb and his family, his thought continued, and Sharleyan's taken them by storm. She's young, she's exotically foreign, she's beautiful (or the next best thing, at least!), and she's come thousands of miles to marry their King, even if that means standing up against the Church and the Grand Vicar himself beside him . . . and them. The balladeers and the newspapers and public broadsides have turned her into the next best thing to an icon, and in her case, it didn't even take a lot of exaggeration. This time, even the poorest people in Tellesberg want to be there, want to see her marry Cayleb.

He made one last careful examination of the cathedral's interior, then nodded mentally in approval. The other members of the Royal Guard were exactly where they were supposed to be, the Marine sharpshooters Cayleb had permanently detailed to the cathedral were in position, and all of the security plans and measures he and Colonel Ropewalk had devised seemed to be in place. It grieved him that they had to take such additional pains to guarantee Cayleb's security, but Staynair's attempted assassination and the fire which had gutted the Royal College's original home left them no choice. And Merlin's position as the commander of Cayleb's personal guard detail made him, in effect, the second-in-command of the entire Royal Guard, despite his relatively junior official rank.

However much most people may love Cayleb, the ones who don't really don't these days, Merlin reflected gloomily. And I'd be a lot happier if I thought the "Temple Loyalists" weren't getting themselves organized. Or if I at least knew enough about who they are and where they're doing the organizing to keep an eye on them. That attempt on Staynair was bad enough, and it came within a whisker of succeeding . . . largely because I didn't (and don't) know enough about them and the people like them to spot it coming ahead of time.

Actually, he would have preferred not having to spy on any of Cayleb's subjects, for a lot of reasons, including the fact that it felt like a violation, especially when there was absolutely nothing anyone could have done about it even if they'd realized it was happening. Keeping an eye on political figures like Nahrmahn or Hektor was one thing; playing the role of Peeping Tom on private citizens was something else again, and the fact that he saw no alternative didn't make him one bit happier. In fact, it made him less happy. "Necessity" was a poisonously seductive argument, however genuinely unanswerable it might be upon occasion, and Merlin didn't want to get into the habit of justifying the abuse of his capabilities.

That bit about "power corrupting" worries me, he admitted to himself The Group of Four's proof enough that it really does, and, in some ways, my "power" is even greater than theirs. Or it could be, at any rate. It's bad enough knowing that I'm for all intents and purposes potentially immortal without giving myself any easy rationalizations for treating people who aren't immortal as if I'm somehow "naturally superior" to them. I don't want to be giving away pieces of my soul that way. . . assuming Maikel's right about my still having one, of course.

I wonder if-- His introspection was abruptly interrupted as the door opened and Cayleb and Sharleyan came through it.

Cayleb was magnificent in white breeches and a traditional Charisian tunic of tawny-amber cotton silk, trimmed in rich green, and embroidered with the black and gold kraken of his house. The rubies and sapphires of the formal Crown of State glittered on his dark hair like flashes of red and blue fire; the crimson cloak of his full court regalia, trimmed in the snowy white fur of a mountain slash lizard's winter pelt, was thrown over his shoulders; and the katana Merlin had given him rode at his side in a newly made black scabbard set with faceted gems and clasped in silver.

Sharleyan had attended the dawn mass in one of the sumptuous, tailored gowns she'd brought from Chisholm, but for this ceremony, she wore a Charisian wedding gown. The decision had been hers-Cayleb had actually been in favor of her wearing a Chisholm-style gown as a symbol of the unification of their two kingdoms-but as soon as she'd made her desire known, the seamstresses of Tellesberg had erupted in a virtual death match to see who would be allowed to design and craft the queen's gown. The competition had been not simply intense, but characterized by scrupulously polite, utterly venomous exchanges. Merlin had been a little surprised when it was all settled without actual bloodshed, and he suspected there were going to be several multi-generational feuds between competing dressmakers and their progeny unto the fifth or sixth generation.

Despite that, he-and Cayleb-had been forced to admit that the queen's choice had been an inspired one. Word that she'd insisted on donning Charisian fashion for her wedding had gotten out, and it had quickly become yet another factor in the way her Charisian soon-to-be subjects had taken her to their collective heart.

Not only that, Merlin thought, absorbing her appearance through the eyes of both the man he had become and the woman Nimue Alban had been, Charisian fashion suited her perfectly. Her hair was arranged in an artfully flowing style which looked simple and unpremeditated, despite the fact that it had taken Sairah Hahlmyn, Mairah Lywkys, and two assistants literally hours to coax into position. Her gown mirrored the coloration of the white mountain spike-thorn, with a long, paneled skirt of cobalt blue that swirled and danced around her slender legs when she moved, and a bodice of almost eye-watering white, adorned with fine sprays of Charisian pearls and a delicate froth of diamonds. The bodice, like the panels of the skirt, was edged in golden thread, and the cloak over her shoulders was trimmed in the same white fur as Cayleb's, but matched the deep, rich blue of her gown's skirt. The fact that the national colors of Chisholm-and of the House of Tayt- were royal blue and silver was a happy coincidence which she had turned into a deliberate symbolism that was lost on no one. Her embroidered court shoes mirrored the blue and white of her wedding gown and flashed back sunlight from gems and silver bullion thread whenever her skirt's motion allowed them to peep into visibility, while their heels were high enough that the crown of her head just topped Cayleb's shoulder.

I can't imagine anyone looking more like a queen, Merlin thought while fabric rustled throughout the hallway as the waiting courtiers swept deep bows and curtsies. And she certainly has the figure to carry that tailored bodice and skirt perfectly!

Unlike the courtiers, Merlin and Sergeant Seahamper, as the two men directly responsible for keeping the bride and groom alive, neither bowed nor curtsied, and Merlin found his lips trying to twitch into a smile.

Every single one of the Chisholmian Royal Guardsmen who'd accompanied Sharleyan to Tellesberg was a thoroughgoing professional, completely devoted to their queen. They'd made a deliberate and conscientious effort to fit into the existing Charisian Royal Guard's structure and procedures, and Captain Gairaht, their CO, was young, smart, and hardworking. He'd established an excellent working arrangement with Colonel Ropewalk the Charisian Guard's commander, and with Merlin, but just as Merlin was Cayleb's personal armsman, as well as the commander of the king's personal guard detail, Seahamper was Sharleyan's personal armsman, and Gairaht left the day-today details of running her guard detail in Seahamper's callused, competent hands.

Merlin was glad he had. He'd come to like and respect Edwyrd Seahamper, and the Chisholmian guardsman's devotion to Sharleyan was absolute. Not only that, but the fact that he'd been her armsman literally since childhood also meant he was the one member of her detail who could sit her down and lecture her in approved, exquisitely polite finger-waving fashion when it was necessary. Unfortunately, Seahamper wasn't quite as unflappable and impassive as he liked to pretend. In fact, his attitude towards Sharleyan often reminded Merlin of a doting but exasperated parent especially when she insisted on doing something foolish like walking down a ship's gangplank to a totally foreign kingdom without so much as a single bodyguard.

At least a few members of the Charisian Royal Guard thought Seahamper was on the fussy, paranoid side. After all, it would hardly have made sense for Cayleb to invite Sharleyan to Charis in order to marry her if he-or his guardsmen-intended to let anything happen to her, and some of them were actually inclined to take offense at his apparent lack of confidence in their competence. Merlin, on the other hand, found it difficult to blame him, especially when he reflected on the fact that Seahamper lacked his own access to things like SNARCs.

Now he and Seahamper made brief eye contact, nodded to one another, and began diplomatically chivying their youthful charges out of the palace to the waiting carriage.

And, of course, Merlin thought sardonically, to the rest of the guard detail.

They completed the short journey from the palace to the cathedral without incident, which might have owed at least a little something to the hundred and fifty picked Royal Guardsmen of the "honor guard" around the carriage. Those guardsmen offered no protection from the deafening waves of cheers which seemed to come from every direction, however. Banners in the colors of both Charis and Chisholm waved madly, spectators leaned out of open windows, cheering and waving, and the street before the carriage's perfectly matched four-horse team was a drift of flower petals, while still more petals sifted down like rainbow-hued snow. Given the wild fervor of the crowds lining the entire route from the palace to the cathedral, Merlin and Seahamper's security arrangements seemed comfortably redundant. While Merlin had no doubt that somewhere in that swirling chaos of cheering, whistling, shouting humanity there had to be quite a few people who were outraged and infuriated by the notion of this marriage and what it represented, none of them were foolish enough-or suicidal enough-to make their presence known on Cayleb's wedding day.

Not that he or Seahamper intended to lower their guard.

At the cathedral, the king and queen were quickly and efficiently ushered to their places in the royal box. Crown Prince Zhan and Princess Zhanayt were already there, waiting for them, and the Duke of Darcos, in the sky-blue dress tunic and dark blue trousers of a Royal Navy midshipman, had managed to get back to Tellesberg in time for the wedding after all.

There were three other people in the royal box this day, however, and Adorai Dynnys and her sons stood as Cayleb and Sharleyan entered it. Archbishop Erayk's widow was more richly, though still somberly, dressed than on the night of her arrival in Tellesberg, and her sons seemed less frightened. There were shadows in the boys' eyes, however-shadows put there by their mother's confirmation of how their father had died. Nor were they the only ones who had heard that heart-wrenching tale. At Adorai's own request, Maikel Staynair had made the cathedral itself available to her, and it had been crowded to capacity while she described her husband's agonizing execution not simply to her sons, but to the entire Kingdom of Charis.

Erayk Dynnys had not been held in universal affection by Charisians, yet as they learned how he had died-and what his final words had been-many of his harshest critics had found themselves echoing their new archbishop's prayers for Dynnys' soul. And several members of the Charisian clergy whose support for their new archbishop and the newborn "Church of Charis" had been at best tepid had found themselves reconsidering their positions in the wake of the atrocity visited upon their old archbishop.

But the atmosphere in Tellesberg Cathedral was very different this day. As Cayleb and Sharleyan appeared at the front of the royal box, a torrent of cheers overpowered the rich-voiced organ and the choir. The mighty structure seemed to quiver on its foundation, and the tumult redoubled when the king and queen raised their hands in acknowledgment of the thunderous greeting.

It took quite a while for the cheering to subside. Then, finally, when the packed pews were calm once again, the organ launched into a soaring prelude which had been composed specifically for this wedding. The cathedral doors swung wide, and Archbishop Maikel Staynair and the assembled bishops of the Church of Charis entered through a storm of music.

If Staynair was troubled in the least by memories of what had almost happened to him in this cathedral, neither his expression nor his body language so much as hinted at it. His golden crown flashed in the stained-glass-filtered sunlight, the rubies glowing like small red suns in their own right. The richly embroidered and adorned robes of his high office (suitably modified by Owl, whether anyone knew it or not) gleamed with their own thread of gold and silver, their own pearls and gems. The other bishops' vestments were almost as richly embroidered and adorned as his, but as bishops visiting in another's cathedral, they wore their traditional priest caps rather than their own coronets. There was, however, an enormous difference between their normal priest caps and the jeweled and magnificently embroidered ones they wore today.

The choir's superb voices rose as the clerics processed down the cathedral's central aisle behind the scepter-bearers, the candle-bearers, and the thurifers. Despite Merlin's soul-deep hatred for the "religion" Langhorne and Bedard had foisted upon the inhabitants of Safehold, even he was forced to acknowledge the sheer beauty and majesty of its pageantry and liturgy as he watched Staynair, still reaching out to touch children's heads in brief blessing as he passed.