It had been Brother Mathias who had saved her life and changed it. She could not recall their first encounter without becoming distressed, and now was not the time to show such feelings, not before seeing the Father-Bishop. She turned her mind from the memory back to the matter at hand.
She reached the modest office wherein worked the single most powerful man of the Order of the Shield of the Weak. Only the Grand Master in Rillanon ranked higher. But although he retained his ceremonial responsibilities, age had robbed the Grand Master of the ability to perform his real duties and the seven Father-Bishops directed most of the Orders business. There was a persistent rumour that Father-Bishop Creegan was the prelate most likely to succeed when the Grand Masters health finally failed him.
To the surprise of almost everyone who visited the Father-Bishop, his office had no anteroom, no clerk or monk waited to attend him outside, and the door was always open. Those who resided in the Temple of Krondor knew the reason: the Father-Bishops door was open to anyone who needed him, but for the sake of the Goddesss mercy, their reasons for disturbing his work had better be good.
She stood outside the door, waiting to be bid to enter. She remembered the first time she had come here, fresh from her training at the temple in Kesh. She had returned to Krondor with a mixture of anticipation and fear, for she had not been back to the city during the five years since her sale to the Keshian. But just one minute in the Father-Bishops presence had made all of her concerns about returning to the Kingdoms Western capital vanish.
He noticed her standing and waved her in. I have something that needs investigating, Sandreena. He didnt give her leave to sit in one of the four chairs placed around the room, so she moved closer but continued to stand.
His desk was simple, a plain table with a stack of woven trays in which to file documents for his staff to dispose of. He kept them very busy.
He should be considered a handsome man, Sandreena considered not for the first time, but there was something about his manner that was off-putting, a quality that could be considered arrogance, if he wasnt always proved right. Still, he had been instrumental in helping the former Krondorian whore find a meaningful life, and for that she would always be grateful. And, she had to concede that he always found for her the most interesting tasks. I am ready, Father-Bishop.
He glanced up, then smiled, and she felt a strong surge of pleasure at the hint of approval. Yes, you always are, he said.
He sat back, waving her over to a chair. She knew that meant a long discussion, or at least a very complex set of instructions. You look well, he observed. How have you been since last we spoke?
She knew he was already aware of what she had been doing in the year and a month since she had last been in his office. She had been sent to investigate a report of some interference with lawful Temple practices in the Free City of Natal which proved false and she had then travelled on to the far Duchy of Crydee, where an isolated village was suspected of harbouring a fugitive magician, by the name of Sidi, which had also proved false. But she gave the Father-Bishop a full report anyway; of her encounter with a mad sorcerer who had dabbled too far into what were called the Dark Arts, and how she had saved the villagers from his depredations. His small band of dark spirits had completely sacked the settlement, leaving the survivors without any means to endure the coming winter. She had interceded with the younger son of the Duke of Crydee, who had agreed to send aid to the village his father and elder brother were away from the castle at Crydee, but the boy had easily turned the castles reeve from ignoring the villagers pleas to sending immediate help.
In all, it had been an important but prosaic burden, once the mad magician had been disposed of. The Dukes second son, a boy of no more than fifteen summers old, namesake of his father, Henry, had impressed Sandreena. He was called Hal by most, and had showed both maturity and decisiveness when acting as interlocutor between his fathers surrogate and the itinerant Knight-Adamant of the Temple of Dala. The outlying villages often seemed more a burden than a benefit to the local nobles, producing little in the way of income from the land, but requiring a disproportionate amount of protection from marauding renegades, raiding goblins, dark elves, or whatever other menace inhabited the region.
Sandreena had spent the better part of the past year in Crydee, and had only left when she had seen the village back on a firm footing. On the way back to Krondor she had intervened in half a dozen minor conflicts, always taking the side of the outnumbered, besieged, or beleaguered as her calling dictated, attempting to restore balance and work out a peaceful solution, always mediating where she could. She was often struck by the irony of how violence was usually needed in order to prevent a more violent outcome.
What are your orders, Father-Bishop?
His brow furrowed slightly. No time for pleasantries? Very well then, to your task. What do you know about the Peaks of the Quor?
Sandreena paused for a moment before answering. The Father-Bishop had little time and less patience for overblown attempts to impress him, so she finally said, Little that is germane to what youre about to tell me, I suspect.
He smiled. What do you know?
Its a region of Kesh, south of Roldem, isolated and sparsely populated. Rumour suggests that smugglers put in there from time to time, seeking to circumvent Roldem and Keshs revenue ships, but more than that I do not know.
A race of beings live there, called the Quor. Hence the regions name. They are in turn protected, if that is indeed the correct term, by a band of elves. Sandreena raised an eyebrow in surprise. To the best of her knowledge, elves only resided in the lands north of Crydee.
We have a little information beyond that, but not much. This is why I have decided to send someone down there.
Me, Father-Bishop?
Yes, he replied. There is a village on the eastern side of the peninsula, named Akrakon, the inhabitants are descendants of one of the more annoying tribes of the region, but were long ago subjugated by Kesh. They mind their manners, more or less, but lately theyve been troubled by marauding pirates. The Father-Bishops tone changed. Weve had sporadic word of these pirates for over ten years. We have no idea who they are or why they bother to trouble the coastal villages He shrugged. All we know is that they seem to have a liking for black headgear, hats, scarves, and the like. Where they come from, what they want, who they serve ? Again he shrugged. Be cautious, Sandreena; occasionally they number a magic user or two in their crew. Our first report involved a demon, as well.
She nodded. Now she understood why she had been chosen. She had faced down more than one demon in her short tenure with the Order.
As Keshs Imperial Court is occupied by far weightier concerns, it has fallen to us to investigate this injustice.
And if I should also happen to discover more about these people in the mountains, the Quor, all the better.
All the better, he agreed. But be careful, for there is another complication.
Dryly, she said, There always is.
Very powerful people are also interested in the Quor and the elves who serve or protect them; people who have influence and reach, even into very high office. He sat back and said, The Magicians.
Dryly, she said, There always is.
Very powerful people are also interested in the Quor and the elves who serve or protect them; people who have influence and reach, even into very high office. He sat back and said, The Magicians.
She didnt need to ask whom he meant. The Magicians of Stardock were looked upon with deep suspicion by the Temples of the Kingdom and Kesh. Magic was the province of the gods, granted only to their faithful servants to do the work the gods intended. Magicians were seen as expropriators of power intended for only a chosen few, and as such were considered suspect at best, untrustworthy at worst. Many magic users became seduced by the darker arts, several having been marked for death by the Temples leaders due to past wrongs.
Sandreena had encountered several magic users over the years, most with unhappy outcomes, and those that werent had still been difficult. It was a sad truth that even the most depraved had believed they had some justification for their behaviour. She recalled one particularly ugly incident with a group of necromancers, a trio of maniacs who had been so overcome by madness that the holy knight had no alternative but to see them dead. She still carried a puckered scar on her left thigh as a reminder that some people were incapable of reason. One of the magicians had thrown a dark magic bolt at her before he died, and while the initial injury had been minor, the wound would not close, festering and growing more putrid by the day. It had taken a prodigious amount of work by the Temple healers to keep Sandreena from losing her leg, or worse, and she had been confined to her bed for nearly a month because of it.
Ill be alert to any sign that the Magicians have a hand in this, Father-Bishop.
Before you go, have you paid a courtesy visit to the High Priestess yet?
Sandreena smiled. No matter how devout the members of the Order might be, there was always politics. Had you not summoned me from my meditation and cleansing, I would have made that call first, Father-Bishop.
Creegan smiled ruefully. Ah, just when things are going smoothly, I cause a fuss.
That fuss was caused long before today, Father-Bishop.
He shrugged slightly. The High Priestess is steadfast in her devotion, and not well pleased that one of their brightest students choose the Adamant Way. We both agree that you would have risen high in the Order as a priestess, but, it is not for us to question the path upon which the Goddess has placed you.
Sandreenas smile broadened. Not to question it, perhaps, but apparently it still permits some to demand a degree of clarification.
Father-Bishop Creegan laughed, which he rarely did. I miss your wit, girl.
She resisted the urge to reflexively sigh at the word. He only called her girl during their private conversations, and it reminded her of a time when their mentor and protégé roles had come very close to becoming something far more personal. The Orders of Dala were not celibate; although the demands of the calling made marriage and family a rare occurrence, liaisons did occasionally take place. However, for a man of the Father-Bishops rank and stature to become intimate with an acolyte, or even a Squire-Adamant, would have been inappropriate, and Sandreenas natural aversion towards men had made it difficult for her to trust his more personal interest in her. So they had never managed to confront the tension between them. Still, both were painfully aware of the attraction. Forcing down disturbing feelings, Sandreena said, If theres nothing else, Father-Bishop?
No, daughter, he said formally, apparently recognizing his previous choice of words. May the Goddess look over you and guide you.
May she guide you as well, Father-Bishop, said Sandreena. She quickly departed and made her way down the long corridor that dominated the south side of the huge Temple. Directly to the north lay the huge central Temple yard, holding the worshippers court and several shrines around its edge. Unlike other faiths, there were few occasions for the public worship of Dala, but there were many times when suppliants came to offer votive prayers and thanks for the Goddesss intercession. There was a constant coming and going through the main gates of the Temple, at all hours of the day and night.
As a result, most business within the Temple took place in the offices along this southern corridor. The residences and guest quarters, servants quarters, and all the requisite function rooms, kitchen, pantry, laundry, as well as the baths and meditation gardens, lay on either side of the great courtyard. The sleeping quarters of the clergy and those, like herself, of the martial orders, were situated in a basement hall, below the one she now walked through.
At the opposite end of the hallway stood the office of the High Priestess. The fact that the offices of the two Temple leaders lay as far from one another as was physically possible was not lost on many. Unlike the Father-Bishops office, the High Priestesss had an antechamber, in which sat her personal secretary, one of the Temple priestesses. She looked up as Sandreena entered the room. If she recognized Sandreena from previous visits, she didnt reveal so.
Sister, she said softly in even tones. How may I assist you?
Fighting off a sudden urge to turn and walk out, she said, I am Sandreena, Knight-Adamant of the Order of the Shield. I am paying a courtesy call upon the High Priestess.
The slender, middle-aged woman stood up regally. She wore the plain robes of her order, a brown homespun bleached to a light tan. Around her neck she displayed the Orders sign, a simple shield hung from a chain, but it was not lost on Sandreena that they were made from gold and were of fine craftsmanship. A gift from the High Priestess no doubt. I will see if the High Priestess has a moment for you.
Sandreena quietly prayed that a moment was indeed all she had to spare, for she knew that an invitation to sit and chat meant a long and tedious inquisition. A moment later Sandreenas worst fears were justified when she was ushered into the main chamber and found two chairs flanking a table with a fresh pot of tea.
High Priestess Seldon was a robust-looking, stout woman in her fifties. She had rosy cheeks and hair so light a grey it bordered on white, which made her dark sable eyes all the more dramatic and penetrating when she fixed her gaze upon Sandreena, as she had on more than one occasion. Ah, Sister, she said beckoning Sandreena to take the empty chair. The High Priestess was also an ample woman, who seemed to grow in girth each time Sandreena met with her. What brings you to Krondor, child? she asked.
Sandreena almost winced. If girl meant the Father-Bishop had put aside his authority, child meant the High Priestess was asserting hers. Despite the fact that Sandreena had served for four years as a Squire-Adamant in the Temple, had been trained in every weapon blessed for use by the Order, and for the last three had been wandering the Kingdom and Northern Kesh as a weapon of the Goddess, the High Priestess was ensuring that she remembered who held the authority in Krondor, and reminded her that she was a traitorous girl for giving up the path of the Priestess and preferring to take up arms to bludgeon the unworthy.
As Sandreena was about to answer her, the High Priestess said, Tea? and without waiting for her guest to answer began to pour the hot liquid into fine porcelain cups.
Sandreena examined the cup handed her by the High Priestess and said, Tsurani?