‘If I might ask a question?’ inquired Magnus.
‘What?’ asked his grandfather, barely hiding his impatience at the interruption.
‘Why here? Why Kelewan and Midkemia?’
Macros paused, then said, ‘Not a bad question.’ He smiled. ‘I suspect there must be a locus somewhere, or loci, where the incursions from one realm to the next manifest first, analogous to the first Tsurani rift into Midkemia, in the Grey Towers Mountains.
‘Remember, the gods of each realm are local expressions of a much vaster entity, spanning universes. The Nameless One is a manifestation of evil on an unimaginable scale, one that spans the entirety of the universe within which Midkemia resides, a universe of billions of worlds, with countless creatures on them, multitudes having visions of that evil, giving it a legion of guises. Yet, we can assume with some degree of certainty that just as the Nameless One was confined in Midkemia, so he was in many other places, the result of the conflict which seemed to centre on that world.
‘I expect the further one travelled from Midkemia, the less likely it would be that the history of the Chaos Wars remained unchanged. Remember the sphere? If you were at the extremities the ordering of the planes of existence seemed normal, unchanged. Yet if you were at the point of the incursion, you would be amidst chaos.’
‘You build a persuasive argument,’ said Pug. ‘But what I wish to know is how this applies to us, finding ourselves here?’
Macros nodded and smiled. ‘To the heart of the matter.’ He looked directly into Pug’s eyes. ‘The Nameless One is confined, but as you have witnessed, not without influence, even some power, albeit limited by the other surviving Greater Gods, the Controllers.
‘He doesn’t appreciate the incursion from ‘below’ by the Dark God of the Dasati. As much as possible, he’s working in concert with the other gods of Midkemia to restore the proper order of things.’
‘We’re working on behalf of the Nameless One?’ asked Nakor.
‘In a manner of speaking, yes,’ replied Macros. ‘It is my belief that ultimately we all play a part in the Nameless One’s plans.’
‘That plan being?’ asked Nakor.
Macros’s expression became grimmer than before. ‘I believe we are seeing a struggle between gods, my friends. And I believe in some fashion we are weapons.’
‘Weapons?’ echoed Magnus. ‘We are just three magicians and a… ?’ He glanced at Nakor.
‘Bek may be a weapon. There is little about him that is natural.’
‘There is a prophecy,’ said Macros. ‘A Dasati lord will rebel against the TeKarana, and prepare the way for the God Killer.’
Pug said, ‘You think Bek…’
‘Is the weapon,’ said Nakor. ‘It is almost certain.’
‘What I don’t know is if he is the weapon.’ Macros coughed, fighting back the impulse even as Pug saw his chest tighten and the spasm hit him. When he finished, he said, ‘Even the lowest of the low would attack me if they saw such an overt sign of weakness.’
A servant hurried in, and moments later a warrior in the garb of the Sadharin followed. ‘Master,’ said the servant. ‘Something—’
The soldier interrupted. ‘Word from Martuch. You must flee. Within the hour the announcement will come from the Palace. At sundown we shall begin a Great Culling.’
Macros drew himself up to his full height, his will overcoming his weakened body. ‘You know what to do,’ he said to the servant. ‘Take only what you must and get our people to the closest sanctuary.’
‘Master,’ said the servant, bowing his head and running off.
To the soldier he said, ‘Return to Martuch and tell him to meet me at the Grove of Delmat-Ama as soon as he is able. If possible, have him bring Valko and anyone else he thinks will serve. It is close to the time, I think.’
The young warrior nodded respectfully, then hurried off. Macros said to himself, ‘Please the gods they survive.’
Pug asked, ‘What is it?’
Macros said, ‘Get your things. We leave within minutes. The TeKarana has called the Great Culling, and at sundown everyone within the Dasati Empire will have licence to kill whomever they may. All truces are abated, all alliances put aside, murder is the will of His Darkness.’
‘What does it mean?’ asked Magnus.
Macros looked troubled. ‘It means the Dark God is hungry. It means the usual slaughter of his subjects is not enough to feed him. I fear it means he is ready to begin his invasion into the next realm.’
Pug, Nakor, and Magnus exchanged glances. Nakor said, ‘What about Bek?’
‘He’s fine with Martuch,’ answered Macros. ‘In some ways he is more Dasati than any Dasati Deathknight I’ve met. The next night and day will probably be the most fun he’s had in his life. I just hope he leaves Martuch alive.’