Free The Golden Princess: A Novel of the Change (Change Series) by S. M. Stirling Page A

themselves are aspects of the Lord and Lady, who in turn make up a greater Oneness that is all that is, or was, or might be.”
    The Japanese looked at each other. Reiko cleared her throat.
    “We . . . ah, were under the impression that most Americans were Christians.”
    Órlaith smiled. In a way it was like meeting time-travelers. They would have no idea what had happened on this side of the Pacific, nothing but surviving stories and books that ended with the death of the old world.
    “Well, things have
changed
rather drastically here since the Change. We usually refer to the Americans as
the ancients
,” she said.
    Leaving aside some of the old diehards in the United States of Boise who insist that the Change was just a broken carriage wheel on the upward road of progress, but let’s keep it simple at first, for all love,
she thought to herself.
That’s sort of . . . sad, anyway.
    Aloud she went on: “And yes, there are plenty of Christians in Montival, more than half the total, probably. Catholics especially. My mother the High Queen and two of my siblings are Catholics, for example. As it happens my guard commander here and my
hatamoto
Heuradys are of what we call the Old Faith.”
    She could tell that Heuradys stirred a little at that because it was an oversimplification. The knight was a pagan but not a witch like Órlaith or her own mother, strictly speaking. Still, it was close enough for government work.
    And since I
am
the government . . .
    “And there are also Mormons, Buddhists, Jews, I think there are someMuslims about somewhere, and then the First People—Indians—have their own rites and beliefs, differing between their tribes. It varies regionally, too.”
    She held up a hand and glanced over her shoulder. “Arbogast? Did you find it?”
    A senior varlet slid forward and handed her a slim book, with
The High Kingdom of Montival: a Regional Study
stamped on the leather of the spine.
    “Yes, Your Highness. Young Ghyslain is taking a correspondence course.”
    “Ah, good. Thank you, Arbogast, that was quick. See that he draws funds to replace it.” To the Nihonjin:
    “This is published in Corvallis for students . . . that’s a great center of learning. One of our cities with a university.”
    It’s actually more of a case of a university having a city-state, but let’s keep things simple for now.
    Aloud she continued: “It’ll furnish some background information. I thought it might be useful, since for now you all find written English a little easier than the spoken language.”
    Which was a polite way of saying
can read it but might as well be deaf and dumb.
    Koyama looked at the textbook with a trace of eagerness, Reiko with interest, and Egawa with resignation.
    The conversation became more general. Órlaith listened carefully. Reiko was trying to reply in English occasionally, and managing the sounds a little better, working at it doggedly.
    “Yes, we have seen something like that . . . thing . . . that killed our fathers before. Have you?” the Japanese woman said.
    The Crown Princess nodded. “Yes. There was a war here, we call it the Prophet’s War, against a . . . religion . . . of sorts, one that saw most people as . . . worthless, tools. Their leaders were like that at times. As if something else looked out through their eyes, and at deep need they could do things that ordinary men could not—keep moving for a little while after they should have been dead. Even their blood could be perilous. This ended the year I was born, you understand, when Corwin . . .their capital . . . fell, and my father killed their Prophet on the steps of their Temple. The last of them was hunted down before I rode my first pony, and I have only heard of it, not seen it . . . until . . . the day before yesterday.”
    She swallowed pain and fury, that the enemy defeated so long ago had come
back
, and slain her father in the end.
    Who then has the victory?
she