“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 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 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?”