Free The Warlock Heretical by Christopher Stasheff Page B

struck

    me as being a good man at the core, Your Majesty. With a lust for power that he doesn't control too well, of
    course."
    "Aye, or he'd not be Abbot!"
    "What else? But there have been some abbots who were elected for their saintliness. Some of them were even
    decent administrators."
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    Tuan sighed. "Would that I knew how they combined the two." Catharine glanced at him with apprehension. "Do not trouble thyself overly with the matter, I prithee." She
    turned back to Rod. "Still, Lord Warlock, he hath not impressed me as one who doth ken the use of his power,
    once he hath won it."
    "A point," Rod agreed. "No great deal of initiative for anything beyond gaining status, no. And there's a fundamental weakness to him."
    "Why, what is that?" Tuan looked up with a frown.
    "Moral, surprisingly. Power's more important to him than anything else. I think he could find an excuse to break
    any oath or Commandment, if it would boost his authority."
    "Thou dost read him aright." Catharine's face darkened. "Yet what first gave him the notion that he could rise
    against us?"
    "That phrase from Scripture, that he doth take without regard for the remainder of its chapter," Tuan said, with
    disgust, "'Put not your trust in princes.'"
    Rod abstained from comment. Personally, he was pretty sure the flea that had bitten the Abbot's ear was really a
    futurian agent, but he wasn't about to say so. Their Majesties hadn't been able to absorb a concept so far outside
    their medieval frame of reference, and had rejected it so thoroughly that they had largely forgotten it. Which was
    just fine with Rod. If the time ever came when they could understand, he wouldn't need to worry about their
    knowing a secret.
    But Catharine noticed his reticence. "Thou dost not concur, Lord Warlock?" Rod stirred. "I think it's a natural outcome of disagreements between yourselves and the clergy, Majesties." He
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    didn't mention that the Abbot probably wouldn't think of anything to disagree about, left to his own devices. "But
    I wouldn't really worry about it too much. What matters is that he has come to the verge of rebellion—but his
    ability to sway the people will

be drastically lessened if a few friars who don't support him can preach to the peasants." Tuan lifted his head. "Well thought, Lord Warlock! And we have these friars of whom thou hast spoke!"
    "They're not about to. speak against their Abbot yet," Rod cautioned. "We really need to know who's getting
    upset with him, inside the main monastery."
    "Manage it if thou canst," Catharine urged, "and discover what next he doth intend!"
    "Oh, I think you can probably figure that out pretty well by
    yourselves, Majesties."
    "I do not." Catharine gazed directly into his eyes. "Since he raised up the barons against us, and then, at the verge
    of battle, reversed his stand and swore loyalty—why, ever since, I have despaired of discovering his thoughts."
    Which was pretty good, coming from her; but again, Rod withheld comment—especially since he knew quite
    well what had changed the Abbot's mind, last time.
    "His Virtue, the Lord Monaster!"
    Behind the elderly manservant, the Abbot raised an eyebrow.
    "'His Grace,' old Adam, 'His Grace!'" The Baroness Reddering fairly bolted out of her chair and sailed toward the
    Abbot, arms outstretched. "And 'tis 'Lord Abbot,' not 'Lord
    Monaster!'"
    "Well, if he is an abbot, he should rule an abbey," the old servitor grumbled.
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    "A monastery is an abbey—or hath one!" The Baroness clasped the Abbot's hands. "Thou must needs forgive
    him, Father—he ages, and his mind—"
    "Ah, but I've known Adam for years—many of them," the Abbot interrupted, sparing the old man. He turned to
    the servitor with a smile. "And as