Then a cold wind blew in the room and the creature shrieked, loud enough to startle even seasoned, battle-ready soldiers. Guards looked furiously about, seeking the source of some nameless horror that could be felt on every side.
The creature suddenly rose up, as if new power had come into it. Its right hand shot out, grabbing at the source of the burning light, Nathan’s left hand. Fingers and talon-like fingers interlaced, and with a searing sound the creature’s hand began to smoke. The moredhel drew back its left hand to strike a blow at the cleric, but as it uncoiled to strike, Nathan shouted a word unknown to the others in the room, and the creature faltered and groaned. Nathan’s voice rang out, filling the room with the sounds of mystic prayer and holy magic. The creature froze for an instant, then trembled in place. It seemed to bend back slowly under the power of the priest’s grip. Nathan stepped up the urgency of his incantation and the creature reeled as if being struck a mighty blow, and smoke rose from its body. Nathan called down the power of his goddess, Sung the White, the deity of purity, his voice hoarse and strained. A loud moaning, seeming to come from a great distance, escaped from the moredhel’s mouth and it shuddered again. Locked in this mystic battle, Nathan lifted his shoulders as if he were struggling to move away a great weight, and the moredhel fell to its knees. Its right hand bent backward as Nathan’s voice droned on. Beads of sweat rolled down the priest’s forehead and the cords on his neck stood out. Blisters rose on the creature’s ragged flesh and exposed muscle and it began an ululating cry. A sizzling sound and the smell of cooking meat filled the room. Thick oily smoke poured off its body, and one guard turned his head and vomited. Nathan’s eyes grew wide as he exerted the force of his will upon this creature. Slowly they swayed, the creature’s flesh cracking as it blackened and crisped from Nathans magic. The moredhel bent backward under the force of the priest’s grip, and suddenly blue energy coursed over its blackening body. Nathan released his hold and the creature toppled sideways, flames erupting from its eyes, mouth, and ears. Soon flames engulfed the body and reduced it quickly to ashes, choking the room with a foul, greasy odor. Nathan slowly turned to face Arutha, and the Prince saw a man suddenly aged. The cleric’s eyes were wide and sweat poured down his face. In a dry croak he said, “Highness, it is done.” Taking one slow step, then another, toward the Prince, Nathan smiled weakly. Then he fell forward, to be caught by Arutha before he struck the floor.
FOUR - Revelations
Birds sang to welcome the new dawn.
Arutha, Laurie, Jimmy, Volney, and Gardan sat in the Prince’s private audience chamber awaiting word of Nathan and the High Priestess. The temple guards had carried the priestess to a guest chamber and stood guard while healers summoned from her temple attended her. They had been with her all night, while members of Nathan’s order tended him in his quarters.
Everyone in the room had been rendered silent by the horrors of the night, and all were reluctant to speak of it. Laurie stirred first from the numbness, leaving his chair to move to a window.
Arutha’s eyes followed Laurie’s movement, but his mind was wrestling with a dozen unanswerable questions. Who or what was seeking his death? And why? But more important to him than his own safety was the question of what threat this posed for Lyam, Carline, and the others due to arrive soon. And most of all, was there any risk to Anita? A dozen times over the last few hours Arutha had considered postponing the wedding.
Laurie sat down on a couch next to the half-dozing Jimmy. Quietly he asked, “Jimmy, how did you know to fetch Father Nathan when the High Priestess herself was helpless?”
Jimmy stretched and yawned. “It was something I remembered from my youth.” At this, Gardan laughed and the tension in the room lessened. Even Arutha ventured a half-smile as Jimmy continued. “I was given into the tutelage of one Father Timothy, a cleric of Astalon, for a time. Occasionally one boy or another is allowed to do this. It’s a sign the Mockers have great expectations for the boy,” he said proudly. “I stayed only to learn my letters and numbers, but along the way I chanced to pick up a few other bits of knowledge.
“I remembered a discourse on the nature of the gods Father Timothy had given once—though it had almost put me to sleep. According to that worthy, there is an opposition of forces, positive and negative forces that are sometimes called good and evil. Good cannot cancel good, nor evil cancel evil. To balk an agent of evil, you need an agency of good. The High Priestess is counted a servant of dark powers by most people and could not hold the creature at bay. I hoped the father could oppose the creature, as Sung and her servants are seen as being of ‘good’ demeanor. I really didn’t know if it was possible, but I couldn’t see standing around while that thing chewed up the palace guards one by one.”