“But why would—? And not you—? If you are the son of a duke?” Clouds had come in from the east. It was colder than it had been in the morning. Alain felt the dirt of the road under his boots. If it rained, the road would get muddy; how much rain, how much mud, would it take to prevent this plan from going forward? Yet he marched with Sabella’s forces, under the aegis of Count Lavastine. Should he not wish devoutly for her victory?
“As reading and prayer, so the ordering of the world,” said Agius with a sigh.
“What?”
“I seem fated to teach you, Alain. I trust to Our Lady’s Wisdom that you will take better to the great truth of Her Son’s sacrifice and redemption than you have so far to your letters. Now. Attend.”
They walked along a deserted road. The farmers and freeholders who owed allegiance to Autun had all fled inside the city walls at the approach of Sabella’s army. Though clouds were their roof and the green fields their chamber, Alain felt transported back to the days of lessons with the frater at Lavas Holding. Agius was not an easy teacher, more often ruthless and impatient with mistakes than forgiving of lapses. What he knew he was determined others should know.
“There are ten great princes in the kingdom of Wendar and Varre. Six of these princes we know as dukes. Four we know as margraves, since they administer the marches that lie along the eastern border. The sovereign is first among these princes, not apart from them. It is by their consent and the sovereign’s strength that a prince or princess of the royal line comes to be acknowledged as the next ruler of Wendar and Vane.”
“But weren’t Wendar and Varre once separate kingdoms?”
“I can’t imagine what your father was thinking,” said Agius with some exasperation, “not to educate you properly.”
“My father taught me all the things a merchant’s son needs to know,” said Alain hotly, stung by this unwarranted criticism. “I can repair a ship. I know a bit about sailing and navigation. I know the worth of coins from many different kingdoms and peoples. I can barter.”
“I did not mean your foster father.”
Distracted, Alain forgot his anger momentarily. “Surely you don’t still believe I might be Count Lavastine’s bastard?”
Agius gestured eloquently toward the hounds, which padded faithfully after Alain. They were as meek as puppies—as long as Alain or Count Lavastine was next to them. Agius knew well enough what they would do to anyone else who approached them. “But that is neither here nor there. I will perform the task given me by our Lady. Attend.”