In tones of icy fury the priestess said, “I have come as you bid, though never have the clergy acknowledged temporal authority. But I will not come as a prisoner, not even for you, Prince of Krondor.”
Arutha said, “Two guards may enter, but they will stand away from the prisoner. Madam, you will co-operate and enter, now.” Arutha’s tone left little doubt of his mood. The High Priestess might be commander of a powerful sect, but before her stood the ruler of the Kingdom absolute, save the King, a man who would brook no interference in some matter of paramount importance. She nodded to the two foremost guards, and they entered. The door was closed behind them, and the two guards were taken off to one side by Gardan. Outside, the palace guards kept watchful eyes upon the remaining temple guards and the wicked curved swords carried at their belts.
Father Nathan greeted the High Priestess with a stiffly formal bow, their two orders having little affection for each other. The High Priestess chose to ignore the priest’s presence.
Her first remark upon seeing the pentagram upon the floor was “Do you fear otherworld interference?” Her tone was suddenly analytical and even.
It was Nathan who answered. “Lady, we are not sure of many things, but we do seek to prevent complications from whatever source, physical or spiritual.”
She did not acknowledge his words but stepped as close to the two men, one dead and the other wounded, as she could. Seeing the black tunics, she faltered a step, then turned to face Arutha. Through the veil he could almost feel her malevolent gaze upon him. “These men are of my order. How do they come to lie here?”
Arutha’s face was a mask of controlled anger. “Madam, it is to answer that question that you have been fetched. Do you know these two?”
She studied their faces. “I do not know this one,” she said, pointing to the dead man with the grey lock in his hair. “But the other is a priest of my temple, named Morgan, newly come to us from our temple in Yabon.” She paused for a moment as she considered something. “He wears the mark of a brother of the Order of the Silver Net.” Her head came around, facing Arutha once more. “They are the martial arm of our faith, supervised by their Grand Master in Rillanon. And he answers to none save our Mother Matriarch for his order’s practices.” She paused again. “And then only sometimes.” Before anyone could comment, she continued. “What I do not understand is how one of my temple priests came to wear their mark. Is he a member of the order, passing himself off as a priest? Is he a priest playing the part of a warrior? Or is he neither priest nor brother of the order, but an imposter on both counts? Any of those three possibilities is forbidden, at risk of Lims-Kragma’s wrath. Why is he here?”
Arutha said, “Madam, if what you say is true”—she seemed to tense at the implication of a possible falsehood—”then what is occurring concerns your temple as much as it concerns me. Jimmy, speak what you know of the Nighthawks.”
Jimmy, obviously uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the Death Goddess’s High Priestess, spoke quickly and forewent his usual embellishments. When he finished, the High Priestess said, “Highness, what you say is a deed foul in the nostrils of our goddess.” Her voice was cold rage. “In times past, certain of the faithful sought sacrifices, but those practices are long abandoned. Death is a patient goddess, all will come to know her in time. We need no black murders. I would speak to this man.” She indicated the prisoner.
Arutha hesitated and noticed Father Nathan shaking his head slightly. “He is close to death, less than hours without any additional stress upon him. Should the questioning prove rigorous, he might die before we can plumb the depths of these dark waters.”
The High Priestess said, “What cause for concern, priest? Even dead, he is still my subject. I am Lims-Kragma’s ephemeral hand. In her manor I will find truths no living man can obtain.”
Father Nathan bowed. “In the realm of death, so you are supreme.” To Arutha he said, “May my brothers and I withdraw, Highness? My order finds these practices offensive.”
The Prince nodded, and the High Priestess said, “Before you go, remove the prayer of slowness you have called down upon him. It will cause less difficulty than should I do it.”