“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.