Glasswrights' Journeyman Read Free Page B

Even in the best of times, Hal was inclined to wear only a thin golden circlet, a brief reminder of the status that he insisted was proven in words and actions more than jewels.
    Nevertheless, the crown that Hal wore that night was fitting. It was woven of interlocking Js, the letter that stood for Jair, the founder of the royal family and the pilgrim who had first cemented the faith of the Thousand Gods in Morenia. It matched the heavy chain of office that hung about Hal’s neck, the sole jewelry resting on his mourning velvet. Both crown and chain contained clusters of pearls and rubies in the loops formed by each J. Hal had worn them when he was invested with his religious title, with the office that ran parallel to his worldly crown. Hal was the Defender of the Faith; he had received that charge at the hands of the Holy Father within weeks of ascending to the throne of Morenia.
    Most important, the crown and chain reminded all present that Morenia was a long-lived kingdom, a land that had seen its share of disasters, but which had survived all, with the house of Jair intact. Hal might be reduced to asking the church for money, but his kingdom would survive. Morenia would prevail.
    As if remembering this strength, Hal managed a smile as he handed Rani into the room. “Holy Father, Father Dartulamino, you remember Rani Trader, our treasured sister?”
    Sister. That was not how Rani would have asked to be presented. Nevertheless, she
thought as she collapsed into an automatic curtsey, “sister” was appropriate. Particularly since the
Holy Father had presided over the religious service five years before, the ceremony where Rani was
welcomed into the House of Jair, where she became the First Pilgrim for a year. Then, she had become
a member of the royal family, if only temporarily. She had been expected to spend a year living in
the palace, living as a member of the royal House of Jair. One year, five. … The Thousand Gods
worked in mysterious ways.
    As Rani rose from her obeisance, she concentrated on the fourth person in the room, on Father Dartulamino. His had been the voice that she had heard from the outer chamber. Of course it had seemed familiar! Rani knew Dartulamino from other hallways, from other meetings.
    Dartulamino was a member of the Fellowship of Jair.
    Rani cast a hurried glance toward Hal, wanting to confirm the priest’s secret identity. The Fellowship was a shadowy organization, and its members generally kept their daily lives hidden. In fact, in the three years since one of the Fellowship had come close to assassinating Hal, the cabal had drawn its ranks even closer. Glair, the leader of the cell that operated in Moren, had disavowed the crazed nobleman who had drawn steel against Hal; she claimed that the attacker had acted on his own, without approval or permission from the Fellowship.
    After much debate with Rani and Mair, Hal had decided to accept Glair’s explanation. To do otherwise would have required the king to challenge the Fellowship openly. Hal’s reign was still too new for that sort of upset. Instead, Hal had attempted to embrace the Fellowship even more closely, to integrate himself into their workings more completely, so that he became invaluable to them.
    Rani knew that Hal had taken on special missions in the past three years, that he had offered advice and the distinct advantage of royal secrecy to at least one information-gathering sojourn that the Fellowship had conducted in far-off Brianta, homeland of First Pilgrim Jair. Rani did not know the details, but she understood that Hal was maneuvering toward the heart of the Fellowship’s cell in Morenia. He had worked hard to make himself indispensable, to make himself the rumored Royal Pilgrim.
    The Royal Pilgrim. … Neither Rani nor Hal nor even Mair – with her long history in the Fellowship – knew precisely what the Royal Pilgrim was. Hal had heard about the Pilgrim from a madman,