Exile's Return (Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

Gellatly. A small step in his schemes, perhaps – but a necessary one. But there were difficulties. For one, Nash could not afford to involvehimself in the eyes of the Guilde, and so his actions needed to be subtle. Then, of course, he had to ensure there was no real danger to the King. It would not do after all these years of work for Nash to remove the one person he needed most – especially by accident. Especially if …
    Nash paused – then a slow smile spread across his face. There was a chance here for him to take more than a single step forward. In all his plans he had avoided the temptation to jump too far ahead of himself. He’d made that mistake before and suffered for it. He’d lost too many years by acting precipitously. But this time, there was the distinct possibility that he could do so without genuine risk. As long as his methods remained subtle, there was every chance he would succeed. Of course, it all depended on Gellatly. It all depended on how much he really hated Selar – and on how much he trusted Nash. And in the process, he could give Osbert and Selar exactly what they wanted. Yes!
    As though on cue, the big man chose that moment to slip through the ornate door opposite. He paused long enough to pull his hood up against the snow, then made his way across to Nash.
    ‘Well?’ Nash enquired quietly.
    ‘Hah!’ Gellatly frowned and glanced around at the empty courtyard. ‘The monsters would annihilate us all if we gave them the chance.’
    ‘Ogiers?’
    ‘Not just him or his puffed-up advisors,’ Gellatly growled, ‘but all of those heathens from Mayenne. You can’t get away from them. They’ve worked their way not only into the court, but the Church and even our beloved Guilde. Pretty soon, we’ll have nothing left. All the things that made our country great are now riddled with them, like maggots on a dead dog. And the carrion of Sadlan and Tusina hover over our borders waiting to pick over the corpse!’
    Nash kept his voice soothing. ‘That’s dangerous talk, my friend. But come, let me buy you an ale before you get yourself all agitated. There’s a new tavern opened up down in the town. I hear their ale is the best in Marsay.’
    He put an arm around Gellatly’s shoulder and drew him away. ‘Come. You can tell me all about it.’
    *
    The great hall was packed with courtiers, merchants, clergy and Guildesmen for the first official presentation of the envoy from Mayenne. He had gifts to give, good wishes to impart and there was hardly a soul at court who did not desire to be present for this historic occasion.
    Godfrey made his way through the press of people with polite but firm resolve, moving to the right side of the platform where Hilderic stood. As he gained the Archdeacon’s side, Hilderic glanced dryly at him.
    ‘You took your time. I thought you’d be too late.’
    Godfrey shrugged, ‘He had a lot of questions. What was I to say? Sorry, Bishop – I have a banquet to attend?’ He took his gaze from the bustling throng waiting below and turned it on the old man beside him. Hilderic was shorter than Godfrey, with a square stocky face which matched his build. The tonsure he’d once worn as a monk had now disappeared, along with most of his hair. All that was left was a narrow band of grey steel which matched his eyes. Hilderic was old, but by no means frail. Despite the differences in their ages, the two men had become close friends over the years, although few would guess at it to hear them talk.
    Formidable in his knowledge of Church law and custom, Hilderic had been instrumental in keeping the Church together as Domnhall’s ill health suspended much of his work. With the traditional alliance between Church and Guilde in tatters around their feet, that work was growing more difficult by the day. Godfrey had worked alongside Hilderic, taking as much of the administrative burden from his friend’s shoulders as he could. Still, it often didn’t make any