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 in 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 labour 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 colour, 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 towards 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 demeanour the High Priestess was a woman of unusual beauty, albeit a beauty without a hint of softness. In a 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 towards 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 re-examined 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