He gave a grunting laugh, drained his ceriso, refilled his own goblet and brought Rodvard’s up to the brim, while the latter’s thoughts whirled wildly, to cover which he asked; “The short man, always smiling, though he spoke so sourly, was the Duke of Aggermans?”
“Yes. One to watch. I have caught him thinking of schemes by which he may one day reach the Chancellor’s seat. That is why he opposes Cleudi. . . . Ser, why are you so deep in turmoil of mind?”
“I—I suppose it must have something to do with Baron Brunivar,” said Rodvard (not daring to try to conceal). “I have always heard him well spoke of as a man who thinks of the benefit of others than himself.”
The steady smile became a chuckle. “So he does. These are the most dangerous kind in politic. The next step beyond thinking on the good of others is deciding what that good will be. A privilege reserved to God. But is not His Grace astute?”
“Yet it seems to me shocking that a man who has done no wrong—”
“Ah, I see where you lead. Ser Bergelin, wrong is not in acts alone, or else every soldier would be a criminal, but in the thoughts with which they are done.” He tapped the jacket just over his heart, where the Blue Star would hang, and for the first time the smile left his face. “When you have borne one of these baubles as long as I, you will learn something—namely, that few of us are different from the rest. I saw a man in a dungeon once, a murderer, whose thoughts were better than those of the deacon who gave him consolation. To my mind, that is. You or another might take those same thoughts for hideous. Take now your Baron Brunivar, who seems so lofty to you because on one range of topic his desires chime with your own. Yet you are not his identical; watch him, I say, and you will find his gold more than half brass in another light. Wrong? Right? I do not know what value they have to one who wears the Blue Star.”
III
Let conscience die. The hours wheeled timeless past as they so often do when there is a change in outer circumstance so sharp that landmarks vanish. Let conscience die; was it true? Rodvard thought of the high ideals of service with which he had joined the Sons of the New Day—was any purpose as good as another? Lalette; his mind shot off on a sudden tangent of tenderness toward her, who fairly desired to be a good partner, it might be for her own interest, but still making two instead of one against a world; and Mathurin came in.
When he was told that Baron Brunivar was likely to be condemned only for being the best man in the state and its appointed future regent, his eyes burned like coal-fires; he said; “It is the thing we need; the people will not bear to hear it; they will rise. First gain for your Blue Star, friend.” He ran out with his nose sharpened by excitement, his eyes glowing like those of a rat.