the babe grows within her. It is said that Lior brings forth a child made for his people, the leader they will need for his time on the throne, that the Lord is crafted within the Lady. Is it any wonder, then, that one Lord takes longer than another?”
“No, sir,” Roslan admitted, “and I have heard this explanation often even beyond my own study of the Rites.”
“But you wonder how, then, I can question the King?” Namel interrupted gently.
Roslan looked up sharply. “No, sir. The Lord remains the son of his mother and as such is subject to corruption. What concerns me is the way the priests are answering these fears.”
Namel studied his student for a moment. “Where have you heard that the King is subject to corruption? I know it is not taught in the seminary.”
“No, sir, it is not, but it has been taught in this room. You have never said it quite so plainly, but I have never doubted the conclusion. Am I wrong?”
“No,” Namel smiled to himself and shook his head, “you are quite right. It is something I was taught by my mentor, but something Heron's predecessor had removed from our instruction. I fear Heron has taken the silence a step further, encouraging the belief that our King is a perfect agent of Lior.” He winced. “As if Lior were perfect himself,” he muttered to the fire. He shook himself free of his reverie before it could take hold and turned back to Roslan. “How are the priests handling the matter?”
“It isn't so much what they say,” Roslan shifted uneasily, “but rather how they say it. It does not seem to me that their words are meant to educate, but rather to chastise.”
“How dare they question, is that the sentiment?” Namel asked. Roslan nodded, and Namel twisted his feet closer to the warmth of the fire. “Yours is a wise concern, and it encourages me. The new attitude feeds the arrogance of the priesthood, and I fear it may be our downfall. Heron learned well from his Master, and they are both fools. Fear and manipulation are poor tools by which to lead, they chafe at the soul and mind.” He was silent for a moment in which Roslan knew not how to respond. Suddenly he turned to his pupil with a
“No, sir,” Roslan admitted, “and I have heard this explanation often even beyond my own study of the Rites.”
“But you wonder how, then, I can question the King?” Namel interrupted gently.
Roslan looked up sharply. “No, sir. The Lord remains the son of his mother and as such is subject to corruption. What concerns me is the way the priests are answering these fears.”
Namel studied his student for a moment. “Where have you heard that the King is subject to corruption? I know it is not taught in the seminary.”
“No, sir, it is not, but it has been taught in this room. You have never said it quite so plainly, but I have never doubted the conclusion. Am I wrong?”
“No,” Namel smiled to himself and shook his head, “you are quite right. It is something I was taught by my mentor, but something Heron's predecessor had removed from our instruction. I fear Heron has taken the silence a step further, encouraging the belief that our King is a perfect agent of Lior.” He winced. “As if Lior were perfect himself,” he muttered to the fire. He shook himself free of his reverie before it could take hold and turned back to Roslan. “How are the priests handling the matter?”
“It isn't so much what they say,” Roslan shifted uneasily, “but rather how they say it. It does not seem to me that their words are meant to educate, but rather to chastise.”
“How dare they question, is that the sentiment?” Namel asked. Roslan nodded, and Namel twisted his feet closer to the warmth of the fire. “Yours is a wise concern, and it encourages me. The new attitude feeds the arrogance of the priesthood, and I fear it may be our downfall. Heron learned well from his Master, and they are both fools. Fear and manipulation are poor tools by which to lead, they chafe at the soul and mind.” He was silent for a moment in which Roslan knew not how to respond. Suddenly he turned to his pupil with a
