By Schism Rent Asunder by David Weber Page A

muscles tightened.
    â€œWhat they think, My Prince?” he asked very carefully.
    â€œThey think they can destroy anyone they want to,” Nahrmahn told him. “They whistled up—what was it Earl Thirsk said Cayleb called us? Ah, yes. They whistled up a pack of ‘hired stranglers, murderers, and rapists’ and ordered us to cut Charis’ throat. They couldn’t have cared less what that meant—for us, as well as for Charis. They decided to burn an entire kingdom to the ground and kill thousands of people—and to use me to do it, Shan-wei take their souls!—as if the decision were no more important than choosing what bottle of wine to order with supper, or whether to have the fish or the fowl for the main course. That’s how important the decision was for them.”
    He’d been wrong, Pine Hollow thought. Nahrmahn’s eyes weren’t cold. It was simply that the lava in them burned so deep, so hot, that it was almost— almost —invisible.
    â€œNahrmahn,” the earl said, “they’re the Church. The vicarate. They can do whatever—”
    â€œ Can they?” Nahrmahn interrupted him. The pudgy Prince of Emerald raised his right hand, jabbing his index finger at the window. “Can they?” he repeated, pointing at the Charisian galleons’ sails. “I don’t know about you, Trahvys, but I’d have to say their plans didn’t work out exactly the way they’d intended, did they?”
    â€œNo, but—”
    â€œIt’s not going to end here, you know.” Nahrmahn’s voice was calm again, and he seated himself on the padded window seat with his back to the wall, gazing up at his taller cousin. “Given even the Church’s purely secular power, the odds against Charis’ survival are high, of course. But Cayleb’s already proven Charis isn’t going down easily. I would rather have preferred being here myself to see how it all works out, of course. But even though I won’t be, I can tell you this much already. It’s going to take years for anyone to overcome the defensive advantages Charis already enjoys, and it’s going to take a lot more ships, and a lot more men, and a lot more gold than the Group of Four ever imagined in their worst nightmares. Cities are going to be burned, Trahvys. There are going to be murders, atrocities, massacres, and reprisals … I can’t even begin to imagine everything that’s going to happen, and at least I’m trying to, unlike the ‘Group of Four.’ And when it’s all over, there won’t be a single prince or king in all of Safehold who doesn’t know his crown depends not on the approval of God, or even the acceptance of the Church, but on the whim of petty, corrupt, greedy, stupid men who think they’re the Archangels themselves come back to Safehold in glory.”
    Trahvys Ohlsyn had never before heard anything like that out of his prince, and hearing it now frightened him. Not just because of its implications for his own power and survival, either. He’d always known, despite the way his rotund little ruler’s allies and opponents alike persistently tended to underestimate him, that Nahrmahn of Emerald was a dangerously, dangerously intelligent man. Now it was as if his own impending defeat and probable demise had cracked some inner barrier, loosed some deep, hidden spring of prophecy, as well.
    â€œNahrmahn, think about what you’re saying, please,” the earl said quietly. “You’re my Prince, and I’ll follow wherever you may take Emerald. But remember that, whatever else they may be, they speak with Mother Church’s voice, and they control all the rest of the entire world . In the end, Charis can’t—”
    â€œCharis doesn’t have to,” Nahrmahn interrupted again. “That’s the very point I’m making! Whatever happens to Charis, whatever the