Free The Charnel Prince by Greg Keyes

Grace—”
    “And yet you admit to summoning the Briar King, whose appearance is said to foretell the end of the world.”
    “It was an accident, Your Grace.”
    “Yes. That will be small comfort if the world is actually in the process of ending, will it not?”
    “Yes, Your Grace,” Stephen replied miserably.
    “Nonetheless, your admission of guilt in that case goes far to suggest that you’re telling the truth. Privately, I confess I had long suspected something was awry at d’Ef. The Church, after all, is made up of men and women, all of whom are fallible, and as prone to corruption as anyone. We are doubly on the watch now, you may be assured.”
    He turned at last to Winna.
    “Winna Rufoote. Hostler’s daughter from Colbaely. Not a holter, not in the Church. How in Heaven did you become involved in all this?”
    “I’m in love with this great lump of a holter, Your Grace,” she replied.
    Aspar felt his face color.
    “Well,” the praifec said. “There’s no accounting for such things, is there?”
    “Likely not, Your Grace.”
    “Yet you were with him when he tracked the greffyn, and at Cal Azroth when the Briar King appeared. You were also a captive of the Sefry, Fend, said to be responsible for much of what happened.”
    “Yes, Your Grace.”
    “Well.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “I give you a choice, Winna Rufoote. We are about to speak of things that cannot go beyond the walls of this room. You may remain and become a part of something which could prove quite dangerous in several different ways—or you may leave, and I will have you escorted safely back to your father’s inn in Colbaely.”
    “Your Grace, I’m a part of this. I’ll stay.”
    Aspar found himself standing suddenly. “Winna, I forbid—”
    “Hush, you great bear,” Winna said. “When could you ever forbid me?”
    “This time I do!” Aspar said.
    “Silence, please,” the praifec said. He focused his raptor eyes on Aspar. “It’s her choice.”
    “And she’s made it,” Winna said.
    “Think carefully, my dear,” the praifec said.
    “It’s done, Your Grace,” Winna replied.
    The praifec nodded. “Very well.”
    He placed his hand on the shoulder of the boy, who had sat silent through all of this. He had black hair and eyes to match, and his skin was dark, darker than Aspar’s.
    “Allow me to present Ehawk, of the Wattau, a tribe from the Mountains of the Hare. You know of them, perhaps, Holter White.”
    “Yah,” Aspar answered curtly. His mother had been Wattau, his father an Ingorn. The child they bore had never been welcome in either village.
    The praifec nodded again. “The events you three have been a part of are of great concern to the Church, most especially the appearance of the so-called Briar King. Up until now, we have considered him to be nothing more than a folktale, a lingering superstition, perhaps inspired by an illiterate memory of the Warlock Wars or even the Captivity, before our ancestors broke the shackles of the demons who enslaved them. Now that he has appeared, of course, we must reassess the state of our knowledge.”
    “If I may, Your Grace, my report—,” Stephen began.
    “I have read your reports, of course,” Hespero said. “Your work on the subject is laudable, but you lack the full resources of the Church. There is, in holy z’Irbina, a certain set of volumes which may be read only by His Holiness the Fratrex Prismo. Immediately on hearing of the events at Cal Azroth, I sent word to z’Irbina, and word has now come back to me.” He paused.
    “Word and more,” he continued. “I will explain that later. Anyway, at the time I did not feel that I could wait to hear from z’Irbina. I sent, under Church auspices, an expedition to track this—
creature,
and to learn more of it. The expedition was a strong one; a knight of the Church and five monks of Mamres. They hired Ehawk in his village to act as a guide. Ehawk will now relate what he saw.”
    “Ah,”