Count Scar - SA Read Online Free PDF Page A

first days as a novice? As I hurried past the chapter house, the terror that I might never again be allowed to enter that octagonal chamber and participate in the business of the Order as a full brother had been truly terrible.
    Arriving before Provost Balaam filled with such doubts and fears, I had been surprised and confused to have him launch into an apparently conversational account concerning the arrival of a new count at the castle of Peyrefixade, a good day and a half away. Now I raised my eyes from his narrow face to the wall behind him, studying the ivory madonna and the fine wooden sculpture of our Order's namesakes, the Three Magi, that hung there, while I tried to decipher the meaning of this conversation. After a moment I ventured, "A southerner's name: interesting for a northern count."
    "It was the name of his great-grandfather, who was count at Peyrefixade before the time of our Order." The Provost paused to shift one of the innumerable scraps of scribbled parchment that littered the desk in front of him. It was a standard trick of his when collecting his thoughts—or when preparing to impart some uncomfortable news, for despite his dry manner he was not an unkind man. "That old Count Caloran had two sons. The elder, who succeeded him, was our own great patron Bernhard. The younger eventually married the heiress to a holding on the northern marches; he was the grandfather of this Caloran."
    I began to relax, thinking perhaps the provost had merely felt like talking of this novelty—though why he should have selected me for a listener seemed a mystery. "I had never even heard our patron had a brother, let alone that such a brother had given rise to a lineage of his own up in the grim border lands adjoining the Empire."
    "Few did. No one in this region has had any cause to think or speak of our late patrons brother for over forty years. But our esteemed duke—" Provost Balaam smiled without mirth "—clearly knew all about it. He makes it his life's business to know of such things, as one never knows when one of them might be turned to advantage."
    My mind was racing now. It was evident that I was expected to understand something from this recitation, but what? I had never enjoyed gossip concerning the maneuverings of the worlds mighty, even during the three years I had been compelled to spend among them away from our mother house. If I had, why would I have chosen to seek a life of quiet contemplation devoted to prayer and the study of the magic arts in the cloisters of the Order, over the chance to be named heir to my uncle's modest lands and castle when I was but fourteen? But now it appeared I must again aspire at competency at this skill for which I felt such scant inclination. Well, I certainly knew something of the duke and his ways. After a moment's consideration, I ventured, "So, our duke finds something to his advantage in suddenly producing this unknown but quite legitimate heir."
    "Good, you are perspicacious. The question for us is whether the arrival of this Count Caloran will also be to the advantage of our Order, or otherwise. It is in this regard that I summoned you."
    "Your servant stands ready to serve in whatever way the Order may require," I declared automatically, casting my eyes humbly downward and stretching forth my hands in an effort to retain my calm and patient expression despite my dawning understanding that all this talk of count and duke actually might have some direct bearing upon me.
    "I presume you are aware that our Order has always furnished a capellanus to the castle of Peyrefixade, to serve both as an aide and a spiritual advisor to the reigning count. Our revered father Abbot Caspar has requested me to ask that you take up this post in the service of this new count."
    "I—see." As soon as he'd spoken, I'd realized my foolishness in not having guessed for myself. My heart felt like a stone in my breast while all of my long and carefully cultivated detachment seemed to