Naturally there was conflict between church and king. Both sought power, both claimed overlapping prerogatives, both insisted that theirs was the final authority. Some kings had had abbots murdered or imprisoned, some had gone weakly to Canossa. Morlach was in between, snarling at the Temple but not quite daring to lay violent hands on it.

“…I see.” Alak bowed his head. “Thank you, holy one.”

“I trust your questions are all answered?” The voice was dry.

“Well now…there are some matters of business—” Alak sat for a moment, weighing the other. Gulmanan seemed thoroughly honest; a direct bribe would only be an insult. But honesty is more malleable than one might think—

“Yes? Speak without fear, my cub. No words of yours shall pass these walls.”

Alak plunged into it: “As you know, my task is to remove Sir Varris to his own realm for punishment of many evil deeds.”

“He has claimed his cause was righteous,” said Gulmanan noncommittally.

“And so he believes. But in the name of that cause he was prepared to slay more folk than dwell on this entire world.”

“I wondered about that—”

Alak drew a long breath and then spoke fast. “The Temple is eternal, is it not? Of course. Then it must look centuries ahead. It must not let one man, whose merits are doubtful at best, stand in the way of an advancement which could mean saving thousands of souls.”

“I am old,” said Gulmanan in a parched tone “My life has not been as cloistered as I might have wished. If you are proposing that you and I could work together to mutual advantage, say so.”

Alak made a sketchy explanation. “And the lands would be yours,” he finished.

“Also the trouble, my cub,” said the abbot. “We already have enough clashes with King Morlach.”

“This would not be a serious one. The law would be on our side.”

“Nevertheless, the honor of the Temple may not be compromised.”

“In plain words, you want more than I’ve offered.”

“Yes,” said Gulmanan bluntly.

Alak waited. Sweat studded his body. What could he do if an impossible demand was made?

The seamed blue face grew wistful. “Your race knows much,” said the abbot. “Our peasants wear out their lives struggling against a miserly soil and seasonal insect hordes. Are there ways to better their lot?”

“Is that all? Certainly there are. Helping folks to progress when they wish to is one of our chief policies. My…king would be only too glad to lend you some technicians—farmwrights?—and show you how.”

“Also…it is pure greed on my part. But sometimes at night, looking up at the stars, trying to understand what the traders have said—that this broad fair world of ours is but a mote spinning through vastness beyond comprehension—it has been an anguish in me that I do not know how that is.” Now it was Gulmanan who leaned forward and shivered. “Would it be possible to…to translate a few of your books on this science astronomic into Thunsban?”