Page 113 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

From Brygstad, Free State of Mentendon,

by way of Ostendeur Port Authority

Late Spring, 1005 CE

Sir,

I gather from my late grand-uncle’s records that you remain in a state of exile in our trading post of Orisima, and that you have petitioned for clemency from the House of Lievelyn. Having reviewed your case, I regret to conclude that I cannot give you permission to return to Mentendon. Your conduct caused some great affront to Queen Sabran of Inys, and to invite you back to court presently may serve to foster her rancor.

If you can devise some way to appease Queen Sabran, I will be delighted to reconsider this unhappy conclusion.

Your servant,

Aubrecht II, High Prince of the Free State of

Mentendon, Archduke of Brygstad, Defender of the Virtues,

Protector of the Sovereignty of Mentendon, &c.

Niclays crushed the letter into his hand. There must be some political reason that the new High Prince was wary of provoking Sabran. At least he was courteous, and willing to return to the matter if Niclays could find some way of pacifying Her Acrimony. Or Lievelyn himself. Even he might be tempted by the elixir of life.

He opened the second letter, heart thumping. This one had been written over a year ago.

From Ascalon, Queendom of Inys,

by way of Zeedeur Custom House

Early Summer, 1004 CE

Dearest Uncle Niclays,

Forgive me for not writing for some time. Duties in Upper Household keep me occupied & seldom allowed to go anywhere without a chaperon. Inysh court concerns itself most deeply with the private time of its young ladies! I pray this reaches Ostendeur before the next shipment eastward.

I do bid you send me word how that you do in Orisima. Have been occupying myself in the meantime with remembering the books you left to me, which are presently held in the Silk Hall. I believe I have a theory & am certain the significance of a certain object has been overlooked. Will you write with all you know of the Tablet of Rumelabar? Have you an answer to its riddle?

All my love, Truyde

(Note to Zeedeur Custom House: I would appreciate your due haste in conferring this to Ostendeur Port Authority. Regards, your Marchioness.)

Niclays read the words again, half-smiling, eyes hot.

He was supposed to have received this letter long before Sulyard arrived. She might have warned him to expect the boy, but Lord Seyton Combe, the spymaster of Inys, would have seen through any code.

He had sent replies to her earlier letters, but he suspected they had been destroyed. Exiles were not permitted to write home. Even if hehadbeen able to reach her, he had no good tidings.

That evening, Purumé and Eizaru took him to the river to spot night-flying herons. The day after, Niclays elected to keep to his room and ice his ankle. While he nursed an excitement-induced headache, he found himself thinking of Sulyard.

He ought to feel shame for enjoying himself while the boy rotted in jail, especially when he believed that Niclays was finishing his quest for him. A quest based on an unsolved riddle and the dangerous passion Truyde had inherited from Jannart.

A passion for truth. A riddle that now refused to leave Niclays alone. At midday, he asked the servants for a writing box and painted out the words, just so he could see them on the page.

What is below must be balanced by what is above,

and in this is the precision of the universe.

Fire ascends from the earth, light descends from the sky.

Too much of one doth inflame the other,

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