"Ha," Bors snorted, nearly spilling his wine when he heard Loman say he wanted to contend for the Lothian throne. "A little late for that, donât you think, Priest Loman?" Bors said pointedly. "Youâve sworn your life to your Church. What do you have to do with the succession at this point?"
"Just because I wear the Churchâs robes at the moment, Father," Loman said in an attempt to separate himself from his fatherâs distrust of the Church. "That doesnât mean Iâve ceased to be your son. That doesnât mean I stopped caring about the people of Lothian March. In fact, itâs the opposite." Seeing that his father was listening with no intention to interrupt, Loman continued pressing his point.
"Father, all these years, I thought that the best thing I could do for Lothian March was to use my position to protect the souls of our people while Owain led the charge against the demons," Loman said. "As brothers, I thought we could learn from the era of Four Lothian Brothers, supporting each other from the throne and temple equally."
"Those four nearly signed our family legacy over to the Church," Bors countered. "If my great-grandfather hadnât taken the throne, all four of them would have been Templars and even he had to be persuaded to give up the power of a holy sword to rule the march and carry on the family. Iâm not sure that theyâre such a good example for you."
"I think they are," Loman countered. "All of them were deeply devout and unified in their desire to cleanse the land of demons. The harmony between the family and the Church was never greater and the people prospered for it. Our gains may have been small," he said.
"But our barons grew stronger under their rule, and more lines of noble knights were founded during their reign than under any other Lothian Marquis," he added. "Their descendants now manage many more villages than weâve established in the years since then. The people prospered because of the unity between the family and the faith."
"And thatâs what you want to do by contending for the succession?" Bors asked, taking another large gulp of potent wine. "Do you want to become the Holy Marquis of Lothian March?"
"No," Loman said, shaking his head. "I have to put down the stole to take the throne. I cannot keep a priestâs position and rule over secular affairs. The Church has learned its lessons well. A king must compromise his faith at times to rule his people. A priest who compromises his faith in such a way is no longer fit to be a priest."
"And a king who will not compromise his faith isnât fit to rule," Bors said, finding himself in agreement with his son. "So why is it that you think that Owain isnât fit?"
"Because a king or a lord may compromise his faith in order to rule, but he may not compromise the integrity of his authority," Loman said. His fingers tightened around his wine cup as he gathered his courage. Everything heâd discussed so far, from the era of Four Brothers to the balance between faith and rule, had all been leading to this moment.
The words that would follow could never be taken back, could never be forgotten, and might shatter their relationship as father and son. The consequences of that happening were dire and contemplating them had kept Loman awake for many sleepless nights. But the consequences of doing nothing, in his mind, were even worse.
Taking a deep breath, Loman steadied himself and met his fatherâs steely gaze with an unflinching look of his own. When he spoke again, his voice carried the same measured tone he used when speaking to men who had come to confess their crimes. The guilty had to stare directly into the truth of their own actions, and his father could no longer be allowed to hid from the truth of what had happened.
"Father, a lord cannot flaunt the law," Loman said, keeping his voice as even and controlled as he could, even as the cup of wine trembled in his hand. "Owain proved that he cannot be trusted with your throne when he murdered his wife on their wedding night and paraded an imposter before the people to conceal his crime."
For a moment, it felt like the room had frozen. Bors stared intensely at Loman, and the young man stared back, each of them trying to read the otherâs face and wondering how much the other person knew. Finally, Bors was the first to break the silence.
"So the Church knows," he said with a heavy sigh. "Did they send you to challenge me about it?"
"No, they didnât," Loman said, a slight sigh of relief escaping his lips. It wouldnât have been out of character for his father to explode in fury, even drawing a weapon if he felt that Loman was threatening him. That he didnât said much about how seriously he considered Lomanâs desire to challenge for the position as heir.
"Iâve spoken with Inquisitor Diarmuid about this matter," Loman said, choosing to be more forthcoming. "He came to investigate Lady Ashlynn Blackwellâs actions, to determine if she had established a âcovenâ of witches or had spread demonic influence."
"And? Did he find any proof that she consorted with demons?" Bors asked.
"None," Loman said flatly. "We exhumed the body and examined her mark. The Inquisition isnât convinced that the mark is genuine. It may just be an oddly shaped birthmark. These things arenât unknown."
"That Diarmuid has been here, sniffing about, for months," Bors said, opening his drawer again and retrieving the bottle to pour another cup. "How thorough was this investigation?"
"Very," Loman said, looking away from his father and staring into the dark red wine in his cup. "The investigation isnât over. Inquisitor Diarmuid will be heading to Blackwell County after the festival ends. He intends to investigate Lady Ashlynnâs known associates there, her tutors and the guild masters she was known to be close with, just in case one of them may have been a source of demonic influence on her."
"But the Church believes that Owain may have committed simple murder," Bors said darkly. "Rhys Blackwell swore that his daughter never showed signs of consorting with demons but he admitted she bore the mark. Now youâre telling me that this whole thing was some kind of misunderstanding? Do they intend to charge Owain with magnicide over this?"
As he spoke, a fire began to burn in Bors thick belly. Heâd worked hard to prevent this whole situation from coming to pass. He pressed the Blackwells to accept their part in all of this to protect his son from being accused of murder and he offered a chance to salvage their alliance if they would play along with the deception long enough to let âAshlynnâ die quietly away from the public eye. As long as Lady Jocelynn would take Ashlynnâs place, things hadnât become unsalvageable yet.
But now, knowing that the Inquisition knew the truth, Bors felt like he had been cornered between the kingâs justice, the Inquisitionâs power and his own sonâs recklessness.
"Thatâs why I wanted to talk to you, Father," Loman said. "If we continue on the path weâre on, I donât see things ending well for anyone. But maybe, we can find a way to do whatâs right for our people and the family as well."
"Will you hear what I have to