Arutha leaned forward the better to hear the tired person’s faint words. Nathan said, “There is an order to things, Arutha, a balance imposed by Ishap, the One Above All. The greater gods rule through the lesser gods, who are served by the priesthoods. Each order has its mission. An order may seem to be in opposition to another, but the higher truth is that all orders have a place in the scheme of things. Even those in the temples who are of lower rank are kept ignorant of this higher order. It is the reason for occasional conflicts erupting between temples. My discomfort at the High Priestess’s rites last night was as much for the benefit of my acolytes as from any true distaste. What an individual is capable of understanding determines how much of the truth is revealed to him by the temples. Many need the simple concepts of good and evil, light and dark, to govern their daily lives. You are not such a one.
“I have trained in the Following of the Single Path, the order I am best suited for by my nature. But as do all others who have reached my rank, I know well the nature and manifestations of the other gods and goddesses. What appeared in that room last night was nothing I have ever known.”
Arutha seemed lost. “What do you mean?”
“As I battled against the force that drove the moredhel I could sense something of its nature. It is something alien, dark and dread, something without mercy. It rages and it seeks to dominate or destroy. Even those gods called dark, Lims-Kragma and Guis-wa, are not truly evil when the truth is understood. But this thing is a blotting out of the light of hope. It is despair incarnate.”
The assistant priest indicated it was time for Arutha to leave. As he moved toward the door, Nathan called out. “Wait, you must understand something more. It left, not because I had bested it, but because I had robbed it of the servant it inhabited. It had no physical means of continuing the attack. I only defeated its agent. It…revealed something of itself in that moment. It is not ready yet to face my Lady of the One Path, but it holds her and the other gods in contempt.” His face revealed his alarm. “Arutha, it feels contempt for the gods!” Nathan sat up, his hand outstretched, and Arutha returned and took it. “Highness, it is a force that deems itself supreme. It hates and it rails and it means to destroy any who oppose it. If—”
Arutha said, “Softly, Nathan.”
The priest nodded and lay back. “Seek greater wisdom than mine, Arutha. For one other thing did I sense. This foe, this encompassing darkness, is growing in strength.”
Arutha said, “Sleep, Nathan. Let this all become just another bad dream.” He nodded to the assistant priest and left the room. As he passed the royal chirurgeon, he said, “Aid him,” a plea more than a command.
—
Hours went by as Arutha awaited word of the High Priestess of Lims-Kragma. He sat alone, while Jimmy slept on a low settee. Gardan was off seeing to the deployment of his guards. Volney was busy with running the Principality, as Arutha was preoccupied with the mysteries of the previous night. He had decided against informing Lyam of exactly what had occurred until the King was in Krondor. As he had observed before, with Lyam’s retinue numbering in excess of a hundred soldiers, it would take something on the order of a small army to imperil him.
Arutha paused for a moment in his deliberation to study Jimmy. He looked still a child as he breathed slowly. He had laughed off the severity of his wound, but once things had finally quieted down, he had fallen asleep almost instantly. Gardan had gently lifted him onto the couch. Arutha shook his head slightly. The youth was a common criminal, a parasite upon society who had not worked an honest day’s labor in his young life. Not much past fourteen or fifteen, he was a braggart, a liar, and a thief, but while he might be many things, he was still a friend. Arutha sighed and wondered what to do about the boy.
A court page arrived with a message from the High Priestess, requesting Arutha’s presence at once. The Prince rose quietly, so as not to awaken Jimmy, and followed the page to where the High Priestess was being cared for by her healers. Arutha’s guards waited outside the suite and temple guards stood inside the door, a concession Arutha had granted when requested by the priest who had come from the temple. The priest greeted Arutha coolly, as if Arutha somehow bore the responsibility for his mistress’s injury. He led Arutha into the sleeping chamber, where a priestess attended the leader of their temple.
Arutha was shocked by the appearance of the High Priestess. She lay propped up by a pile of bolsters, her pale blond hair framing a face drained of color, as if the icy blue of winter had suffused her features. She looked as if she had aged twenty years in a day. But as she fixed her gaze upon Arutha, there was still an aura of power about her.
“Have you recovered, madam?” Arutha’s tone showed concern as he inclined his head toward her.
“My mistress has work for me yet, Highness. I will not join her for some time.”
“I am pleased to hear that news. I have come as you required.”
The woman drew herself upright, until she sat with her back against the pillows. Without conscious thought she brushed back her nearly white hair, and Arutha could see that despite the grim demeanor the High Priestess was a woman of unusual beauty, albeit a beauty without a hint of softness. In voice still strained, the priestess said, “Arutha conDoin, there is peril to our Kingdom, and more. In the realm of the Mistress of Death, only one stands higher than I; she is our Mother Matriarch in Rillanon. Other than herself, none should challenge my power in the domain of death. But now there comes something that challenges the very goddess herself, something that while still weak, while still learning its powers, can overcome my control over one in my mistress’s realm.
“Have you any understanding of the importance of my words? It is as if a baby fresh from her mother’s teat has come to your palace, nay, the palace of your brother the King, and turned his retinue, his guards, even the very people against him, rendering him helpless in the very seat of his power. That is what we face. And it grows. As we stand speaking, it grows in strength and rage. And it is ancient….” Her eyes grew wide, and suddenly Arutha saw a hint of madness. “It is both new and old….I don’t understand.”
Arutha nodded toward the healer and turned to the priest. The priest indicated the door and Arutha started to leave. As he reached the door, the High Priestess’s voice broke into sobbing.
When they reached the outer room, the priest said, “Highness, I am Julian, Chief Priest of the Inner Circle. I’ve sent word to our mother temple in Rillanon of what has happened here. I…” He appeared troubled by what he was about to say. “Most likely I will be High Priest of Lims-Kragma within a few months’ time. We shall care for her,” he said, facing the closed door, “but she will never again be able to guide us in our mistress’s service.” He returned his attention to Arutha. “I have heard from the temple guards of what occurred last night, and I have just heard the High Priestess’s words. If the temple can help, we will.”
Arutha considered the man’s words. It was usual for a priest of one of the orders to be numbered among the councillors of the nobility. There were too many matters of mystic importance to be faced for the nobility to be without spiritual guidance. That was why Arutha’s father had been the first to include a magician in his company of advisers. But active cooperation between temple and temporal authority, between ruling bodies themselves, was rare. Finally Arutha said, “My thanks, Julian. When we have a better sense of what we are dealing with, we shall seek out your wisdom. I have just come to understand that my view of the world is somewhat narrow. I expect you will provide valued assistance.”
The priest bowed his head. As Arutha made to leave, he said, “Highness?”
Arutha looked back to see a concerned expression on the priest’s face. “Yes?”
“Find whatever this thing is, Highness. Seek it out, and destroy it utterly.”
Arutha could only nod. He made his way back to his chamber. Entering, he sat quietly, lest he disturb Jimmy, who still lay sleeping upon the settee. Arutha noticed that a
plate of fruit and cheese and a decanter of chilled wine had been placed upon the table for him. Realizing he had had nothing to eat all day, he poured himself a glass of wine and cut a wedge of cheese, then sat down again. He put his boots on the table and leaned back, letting his mind wander. The fatigue of two nights with little sleep washed over him, but his mind was too caught up in the events of the last two days to let sleep be considered for even a moment. Some supernatural agent was loose in his realm, some magic thing that threw fear into priests of two of the most powerful temples in the Kingdom. Lyam would arrive in less than a week. Nearly every noble in the Kingdom would be in Krondor for the wedding. In his city! And he could think of nothing he could do to guarantee their safety.
Arutha sat for an hour, his mind miles away as he absently ate and drank. He was a man who often descended into dark brooding when left alone, but when given a problem he never ceased to work on it, to attack it from every possible side, to worry it, tossing it about, as a terrier does a rat. He conjured up dozens of possible approaches to the problem and constantly reexamined every shred of information he had. Finally, after discarding a dozen plans, he knew what he must do. He took his feet off the table and grabbed a ripe apple off the dish before him.
“Jimmy!” he shouted, and the boy thief was instantly awake, years of dangerous living having bred the habit of light sleeping. Arutha threw the apple at the boy and with astonishing speed he sat up and caught the fruit scant inches from his face. Arutha could understand how he had come to be known as “the Hand.”
“What?” inquired the boy as he bit into the fruit.
“I need you to carry a message to your master.” Jimmy stopped in mid-bite. “I need you to arrange a meeting between myself and the Upright Man.” Jimmy’s eyes widened in utter disbelief.
—
Again thick fog had rolled in off the Bitter Sea to blanket Krondor in a deep mantle of haze. Two figures moved quickly past the few taverns still open for business. Arutha followed as Jimmy led him through the city, passing out of the Merchants’ Quarter into rougher environs, until they were deep within the heart of the Poor Quarter. Then a quick turn down an alley and they stood before a dead end. Emerging from the shadows, three men appeared as if by magic. Arutha had his rapier out in an instant, but Jimmy only said, “We are pilgrims who seek guidance.”
“Pilgrims, I am the guide,” came the answer from the foremost man. “Now, tell your friend to put up his toad sticker or we’ll deliver him up in a sack.”
If the men knew Arutha’s identity, they were giving no sign. Arutha slowly put away his sword. The other two men came forward, holding out blindfolds. Arutha said, “What business is this?”
“This is the way you will travel,” answered the spokesman. “If you refuse, you will go not one step farther.”
Arutha fought down irritation and nodded, once. The men came forward and Arutha saw Jimmy blindfolded an instant before he was roughly denied light himself. Struggling against the urge to pull the blindfold away, Arutha heard the man speak. “You will both be led from here to another place, where others will come to guide you. You may be passed along through many hands before you reach your destination, so do not become alarmed should you hear unexpected voices in the dark. I do not know what your ultimate destination is, for I do not need to know. I also do not know who you are, man, but orders have come down from one most highly placed that you are to be led quickly and delivered unharmed. But be warned: remove your blindfold only at grave risk. You may not know where you are from this moment henceforth.” Arutha felt a rope being tied around his waist and heard the speaker say, “Hold tightly to the rope and keep a sure foot; we travel at good pace.”
Without further word, Arutha was jerked around and led off into the night.
—
For more than an hour, or so it seemed to the Prince, he had been led about the streets of Krondor. He had twice stumbled and had bruises to show for the casual care given by his guides. At least three times he had changed guides, so he had no idea whom he would see when the blindfold was removed. But at last he climbed a flight of stairs. He heard several doors open and shut before strong hands forced him to sit. At last the blindfold was removed and Arutha blinked as he was dazzled by the light.
Arrayed along a table was a series of lanterns, with a polished reflector behind each, all turned to face him. Each cast a brilliant illumination into the Prince’s eyes, preventing him from seeing anyone who stood behind that table.
Arutha looked to his right and saw Jimmy sitting upon another stool. After a long moment a deep voice rumbled from behind the lights. “Greetings, Prince of Krondor.”
Arutha squinted against the light, but could catch no glimpse of who spoke from behind the glare. “Am I speaking to the Upright Man?”
A long pause preceded the answer. “Be satisfied that I am empowered to reach any understanding you may desire. I speak with his voice.”
Arutha considered for a moment. “Very well. I seek an alliance.”
From behind the glare came a deep chuckle. “What would the Prince of Krondor need of the Upright Man’s aid?”
“I seek to learn the secrets of the Guild of Death.”
A long silence followed on the heels of this statement. Arutha couldn’t decide if the speaker was consulting another person or simply thinking. Then the voice behind the lanterns said, “Remove the boy and hold him outside.”
Two men appeared from out of the dark and roughly grabbed Jimmy, hauling him from the room. When he was gone, the voice said, “The Nighthawks are a source of concern for the Upright Man, Prince of Krondor. They trespass upon the Thieves’ Highway and their black murders stir up the populace, casting unwelcome light upon the Mockers’ many activities. In short, they are bad for business. It would serve us to see them ended, but what cause have you beyond that which normally occupies a ruler when his subjects are being wantonly murdered in their sleep?”
“They pose a threat to my brother and myself.”
Again there was a long silence. “Then they set their sights high. Still, royalty often needs killing as much as the commons, and a man must earn a living howsoever he may, even though he be an assassin.”
“It should be apparent to you,” said Arutha dryly, “that murdering Princes would be especially bad for business. The Mockers would find things a little cramped working in a city under martial law.”
“This is true. Name your bargain.”
“I ask no bargain. I demand cooperation. I need information. I wish to know where lies the heart of the Nighthawks.”
“Altruism accrues little benefit to those lying cold in the gutter. The arm of the Guild of Death is long.”
“No longer than mine,” said Arutha in a voice devoid of humor. “I can see that the activities of the Mockers suffer greatly. You know as well as I what would happen to the Mockers should the Prince of Krondor declare war upon your guild.”
“There is little profit in such contention between the guild and Your Highness.”
Arutha leaned forward, his dark eyes gleaming from the brilliant lights. Slowly, biting off each word, he said, “I have no need of profit.”
A moment of silence was followed by a deep sigh. “Yes, there is that,” said the voice thoughtfully. Then it chuckled. “That is one of the advantages to inheriting one’s position. It would prove troublesome to govern a guild of starving thieves. Very well, Arutha of Krondor, but for this risk the guild needs indemnity. You’ve shown the stick, now what of the carrot?”
“Name your price.” Arutha sat back.
“Understand this: the Upright Man is sympathetic to Your Highness regarding the problems posed by the Guild of Death. The Nighthawks are not to be endured. They must be eliminated root and branch. But many risks are involved, and great expense will be incurred; this will be a costly venture.”
“Your price?” Arutha repeated flatly.
“For the risk involved to all should we fail, ten thousand golden sovereign
s.”
“That would put a large hole in the royal treasury.”
“True, but consider the alternatives.”
“We have a bargain.”
“I shall provide the Upright Man’s instructions as to the means of payment later,” the voice said with a hint of humor in it. “Now there is another matter.”
“What is that?” said Arutha.
“Young Jimmy the Hand has broken oath with the Mockers and his life is forfeit. He shall die within the hour.”
Without thinking, Arutha began to rise. Strong hands pushed him down from behind as a large thief stepped out of the darkness. He simply shook his head in the negative.
“We would never think of returning you to the palace in less salubrious condition than that in which you arrived,” said the voice behind the lights, “but draw a weapon in this room and you will be delivered to the palace gate in a box and we will deal then with the consequences.”
“But Jimmy—”
“Broke oath!” interrupted the voice. “He was honor-bound to report the whereabouts of the Nighthawk when he saw him. As he was honor-bound to tell of Laughing Jack’s treachery. Yes, Highness, we know of these things. Jimmy betrayed the guild to carry word to you first. There are certain matters that can be forgiven because of age, but these actions cannot.”
“I’ll not stand by and allow Jimmy to be murdered.”
“Then listen, Prince of Krondor, for I have a story to tell. Once the Upright Man lay with a woman of the streets, as he had with hundreds of others, but this whore bore him a son. This is a certainty: Jimmy the Hand is the Upright Man’s son, though he is ignorant of his paternity. This presents the Upright Man with something of a quandary. If he is to obey the laws he has made, he must order the death of his own son. But should he not, he will lose credibility with those who serve him. An unpleasant choice. Already the Guild of Thieves is in turmoil from Jack’s being shown as an agent of the Nighthawks. Trust is a thin enough commodity at most times; it is nearly nonexistent now. Can you think of another way?”
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