“I’m so sorry,” Jason said.
“It could be worse,” Nicholas acknowledged. “Minna and Lisa are strapping girls, able to do much of the heavy work my designs require. I am successfully passing much of my knowledge to them. Kayla is a marvelous cook. I have no legs, but my harness suffices. I live in the Fleabed, but my residence is large and secure. My enemies rule over me, but they keep their distance. You may soon deserve my pity more than I deserve yours.”
“I won’t argue,” Jason said.
Reaching up, Nicholas grabbed a couple of straps and pulled to shift his position in the harness. “Listen, son. Do you really think you have any chance for success? Getting the Word, I mean. Once Galloran failed, the rest of us should have quit. He was our best hope. Strong, smart, brave, inspiring, incorruptible; a peerless swordsman. How could others succeed where he had failed? Honestly, when I weigh all I lost, and how little was gained by that loss, if I could return to the days after Galloran fell, I would pretend to side with Dolan.”
Jason frowned. The last thing he needed was fuel for his doubts. Looking into those grave, knowing eyes, it was hard not to waver.
“Galloran warned us that we have to see this through,” Rachel said. “He warned us that Maldor knew we were after the Word, and would destroy us more swiftly if we departed from our task.”
“He would know,” Nicholas admitted. “And Galloran is right, to an extent. However, if you earn another syllable or two, you might garner an invitation to Harthenham. If you can survive until then, you can live out your days in luxury.”
“Others have mentioned Harthenham,” Jason said. “What is it?”
“The emperor’s pleasure palace,” Nicholas explained. “Only his staunchest enemies receive an invitation to the Eternal Feast. I have never been so honored. Those who accept live out their days in paradise, all cares forgotten. These days most who pretend to oppose Maldor are motivated by hope for an invitation. Few possess enough backbone to actually earn one.”
“Was Galloran invited?” Rachel asked.
“Multiple times,” Nicholas said. “Ever the idealist, he turned down the invitations. Want some practical guidance? If I were walking your path, my goal would not be to gain the Word. My intent would be to succeed enough to earn an invitation to Harthenham. After that your troubles could be over. Don’t delude yourself. Maldor is a master manipulator. No matter how promising your prospects appear, he will not let you succeed. You can’t imagine the resources at his disposal. Galloran failed years ago, and Maldor has only gained power since. If an invitation to the Eternal Feast ever arrives, take it. Deny it, and you will feel the full wrath of Maldor. Once the emperor truly wants you out of the way, your demise will soon follow.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Jason said, trying not to let it shake him. “Either way, for now we have to keep after the Word. What are our chances of breaking in to the lorevault?”
“Are you the greatest master thief Lyrian has ever seen?”
“No.”
“Does some unknown magic from the Beyond allow you to walk through walls?”
“No.”
“Then you have no chance,” Nicholas said emphatically. “The lorevault was designed by my ancestors to be impervious. It has remained so for hundreds of years.”
“Don’t you know a weakness?” Rachel asked.
“On the contrary,” Nicholas said. “I am simply more aware than anyone that the lorevault has no exploitable flaws.”
“You challenged the chancellor to a battle of wits?” Jason asked.
“The office of chancellor is more vulnerable than the vault,” Nicholas conceded. “But not by much. Since ancient times any nobleman of Trensicourt may challenge the chancellor to a battle of wits. The rule helps ensure that the cleverest nobleman will serve as chief advisor to the king.”
“I’m Lord of Caberton,” Jason said. “Would that qualify me?”
“Caberton lies in shambles,” Nicholas chuckled. “But, yes, if your title were recognized as authentic, you would be qualified to challenge Copernum for the chancellorship. Be forewarned: He has been challenged thrice and never defeated. There is no end to his cunning.”
“How does the contest work?” Rachel asked.
“The challenger poses three questions. After the chancellor answers each question, the challenger can attempt to supply a superior response. If any of the challenger’s responses are judged superior, he becomes the new chancellor. If not, the challenger forfeits his title and property to the chancellor.”
“So if you lose,” Jason said, “you lose big.”
“None know the consequences better than I do,” Nicholas sighed. “Considering the risk, few have the boldness to issue a challenge for the chancellorship. The office is normally appointed by the king.”
“This seems like our only way into the vault,” Jason said. “At least in my case all I’d have to risk is a title nobody would want.”
Nicholas grinned. “Nothing would delight me more than to see Copernum humbled. It will not be easy. First you must get Dolan to recognize your claim to Caberton. The ring is authentic, and it should serve as sufficient evidence, unless they bring forward false witnesses to label you a thief. The second trick will be actually defeating Copernum. Perhaps you know some unfathomable riddle from the Beyond?”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Jason said.
“I know some riddles,” Rachel added.
“The question would have to be exquisite,” Nicholas said. “Copernum has held his office so long for good reason. He is as keen as they come.”
“Who judges the contest?” Rachel asked.
“Dolan,” Nicholas said. “His word will be final. If there is room for doubt, he will side with Copernum. But if you clearly provide a superior answer, he will name you victor. Dolan knows that Copernum wields the real power in Trensicourt. I believe Dolan would gladly demote him if he could do so without blame.”
“How do I establish my claim as Lord of Caberton?” Jason asked.
“You will need an audience with the regent.” Nicholas sniffed and tugged absently at a strap. “You must not breathe a word about challenging for the chancellorship. Save that surprise for after your claim has been acknowledged. It would help if you found a sponsor.” Nicholas bowed his head in thought.