Her hostess shook her head and said, From LaMut. But it is of Tsurani design. Real Tsurani porcelain is far too costly for us to use here. The Goddess provides, but not to excess, child.
Even that tiny explanation felt like a reproach to Sandreena.
So, again, why are you in Krondor?
Sandreena knew she did not have to explain. She could claim it was mere happenstance that had brought her to the capital of the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles. But she was certain that the Mother Superior already knew of her summoning to the Father-Bishops office. She would not trust coincidence when a conspiracy was possible.
I was in Port Vykor, High Priestess.
Visiting Brother Mathias?
Sandreena nodded. He had brought her to the Mother Temple in Kesh where she had been tutored and expected to become a priestess. He had come into her life again in Krondor when she had changed her calling from that of a novitiate in the priesthood to a Squire-Adamant of the Order of the Shield of the Weak. Mathias had stepped in to take her as his squire when the debate between the High Priestess Seldon and Father-Bishop Creegan had grown contentious. Sandreena now knew that she was a useful tool for Creegan and whatever personal affection or desire he might possess for her, was easily put aside. Seldon saw her as a stolen possession, another setback in her endless struggle with the Order and those associated with it, especially the Father-Bishop. It was rare for anyone to rise from the martial orders to a position of authority within the Temple proper, but Creegan was a rare man.
He is content, said Sandreena slowly. The illness that takes his memory has not lessened his pleasures in most things. Hes content to fish when allowed, or to walk in the gardens. He sometimes remembers me, sometimes not.
He is well otherwise, then? asked High Priestess Seldon and for a brief moment, Sandreena saw a hint of genuine concern and affection. Brother Mathias had refused rank and position over the years, but had gained great respect in the Temple.
The healers at the retreat say he is healthy and will abide for years. Its just difficult to not be remembered by him.
He was like a father to you, said the High Priestess in a flat, almost dismissive tone, and whatever spark of humanity Sandreena had glimpsed was gone. Sandreena was Creegans creature, and the High Priestess would never forget that, or forgive her betrayal. Sandreena knew that much of the friction between the High Priestess and the Father-Bishop was because Seldon believed Creegan had usurped too much authority in Krondor, rather than being caused by losing a talented novitiate to the Order. It was rumoured that the High Priestess saw herself as a viable candidate for the most holy office in the Temple when the current Grand Masters health failed. And if that were true, Creegan would be her biggest barrier to the office of Grand Mistress.
Sandreena resisted the temptation to remind the High Priestess that she had no idea what a father was like, given that her mother had no idea who her father had been; and that from what she had seen of other fathers while growing up, they were generally poor at best, and drunk, abusive, womanizing, brutal monsters at worse. No, Brother Mathias had been closer to a saint than a father. He had become, and remained to this day, the only man she trusted without reservation. Even Father-Bishop Creegan was viewed with some reservation, because his needs always trumped hers or indeed anyone elses.
She simply nodded and made non-committal noises.
So, what is next for you, my child?
Sandreena knew it was best not to equivocate. The High Priestess would have sources in the Temple. Yet, she didnt have to tell the complete truth. Word has reached the Order that pirates are troubling a village along the Keshian coast. It seems that the imperial court is too busy to be bothered with the problem, so as I am the closest Knight-Adamant to the village, Im to go. Using her title reminded the High Priestess that despite her rank and former position of authority Sandreena visited her only as a courtesy, nothing more. Draining her cup, she rose and said, I should be on my way, High Priestess. Thank you for taking time from your very busy day to seem me.
She stood waiting for a formal acknowledgement, as was her right, and after an awkward moment, the older woman eventually inclined her head in consent. She could expect any priestess or novice to remain until dismissed, but not a knight of the Order. As Sandreena reached the door, the High Priestess said, It is a shame, really.
Sandreena hesitated, then turned and said, What is a shame, High Priestess?
I cant help but feel that despite the work you do for the Goddess, youve somehow been turned from the proper path.
Sandreena instantly thought of a dozen possible replies, all of them unkind and scathing, but her training with Brother Mathias made her pause before speaking. Calmly she replied, I always seek the path intended for me, High Priestess, and pray daily to the Goddess that she keeps my feet upon it.
Without another word, she turned and left. As she strode furiously down the long hall she longed for something to hit, a brigand or goblin would do nicely. Lacking one, she decided it was time to go to the training yard and take her mace to a pell and see how fast she could reduce the thick wooden post to splinters.
Sandreena stood panting, having taken out her bad temper on a pell for nearly an hour. Her right arm ached from the repeated bashing she had given the stationary wooden target. Like all members of her Order, she carried a mace. The tradition of not using edged weapons was lost in time, but believed to be part of her Orders doctrine to strive for balance. Those she fought were given every opportunity to yield, even to the point of death. Edged weapons spilled blood that could not be given back. She had wondered on more than one occasion whether the original proponent of the tradition knew how much damage could be done to a body with a well-handled mace. A broken skull was as fatal as bleeding.
A girl wearing the garb of the Order, someones squire, or a page, approached her. She was very pretty, and for a moment Sandreena dryly considered that she was probably on the Father-Bishops personal staff. Sandreena nodded a greeting. Sister.
The young acolyte held out a small, black wooden box. The Father-Bishop asked me to give this to you. He said you would understand.
Sandreena laughed. She was on his staff.
The girl looked slightly confused and Sandreena said, Sorry, just an idle thought after a long practice. Are you training for the Order Adamant?
She shook her head. I am a scribe and cleric, she answered. I serve in the Temple library.
Ah, said Sandreena. The Father-Bishop had one of his little spies where she could monitor all comings and goings; as well as being the repository for all the Orders valuable volumes, librams, tomes, and scrolls, the library was where all of the scribes did their superiors bidding. She took the box. Thank you.
She watched the slender girl walk purposefully away and for a fleeting moment wondered what her life story had been before coming here; did she have a loving father and a mother who wished for grandchildren? Was she a fugitive from a harsh and uncaring world? Putting aside such pointless thoughts, she opened the box.
She understood immediately what the contents of the box heralded. Within lay a dull, pearl-white stone set within a simple metal clasp and hung from a plain leather thong. She lifted it out with a resigned sigh. It was a soul gateway. Before she departed on her assignment, Sandreena would now have to endure a very long and difficult session with one of the more powerful Brothers of the Order, preparing her stone, so that in the event of her death, her spirit could be recalled to the Temple, and questioned by those who could speak to the departed. If the magic used were strong enough, she could even be resurrected in the Temple. This act was the most powerful magic available to the Temple, rare in the extreme and most difficult to execute. She wondered if her scars would reappear in the event of her resurrection; the scar on her thigh had a habit of itching at the most inconvenient times. Then she considered the stone.
Its presentation meant that whatever she was being sent to discover was important. So important that even if she didnt survive, the discovery must still be reported to the Temple, even if that report came from her ghost, kept from Lims-Kragmas Hall for a few additional hours. Or, should the need be great, and if Lims-Kragma were willing, she might escape death entirely.
Despite the heat of the day and her exertion, she felt a chill and a need to cleanse herself.
From a window high above the marshalling yard behind the Temple, Father-Bishop Creegan watched the girl regarding the soul gate he had sent to her, and said, Shes young.
The man standing at his shoulder said, Yes, but shes as tough as any Knight-Adamant in the Order. If Mathias were still sound, or Kendall still alive, Id say either of them would do, but right now shes the best mix of skill, strength, and determination you have.
Creegan turned to face his companion, a man he had known for most of his life, though only well over the last three years. He was dressed in the garb of a commoner, and a rather dirty one at that, his hair was scruffy and his chin beard surrounded by days of stubble. Even his fingernails were dirty, but the Father-Bishop of the Order of the Shield of the Weak knew that this was but one of several guises employed by James Dasher Jamison.
Are you acting on behalf of the Crown?
In a manner, said the most dangerous man in the Kingdom from Creegans point of view. Not only was he the grandson of the most important Duke in the Kingdom of the Isles, he was also reputed to be the mastermind behind the Kingdoms intelligence services, and even, according to some, in control of the criminal brotherhood known as the Mockers.
Jim Dasher looked out of the window for a moment longer, then said, An impossibly beautiful woman, that one.
As dangerous as she is lovely, said Creegan.
Jim Dasher looked the cleric and said, You two ?
No, said the prelate. Not that the thought hasnt crossed my mind upon occasion. He waved his guest to a small table with two chairs. If I have one flaw, its my love of beautiful women. The room was not utilized for any specific reason, but Creegan had long ago claimed it for his clandestine meetings and other moments when he felt the need to be away from the High-Priestesss army, or when he wanted a few undisturbed minutes to think.
I knew her, said Jim, when she was a whore.
You? asked Creegan.
Jim Dasher laughed, a single bark of embarrassment. No. Not that way. I may not be first among those she would wish dead, but I am high on that list, no doubt.
Really?
Dasher nodded. I sold her to the Keshian trader.
Creegan let out a long sigh, and shook his head. The things we do in the name of the greater good. Then he asked, But it was you who arranged for Brother Mathias to intercede and rescue her from the Keshian, wasnt it?
I wish I could claim that were so, said Jim. He looked out the window again, this time into the distance and said, My plan was for her to endure the company of that fat monster for a month, then I would have made contact with her and turn her to my purpose; I was going to promise her safe passage back to the Kingdom from Shamata and enough wealth to start a new life if she provided me with certain documents that were in the merchants possession.
I never knew that, said Creegan. I always thought it was all some elaborate plot to rid yourself of a Keshian spy and that Mathias just happened to recognize the girls quality.
Jim barked out another laugh. Zacanos Martias was as much a Keshian spy as you are. What he was, however, was a choking point for certain . He paused. Lets just say that since his demise its been a lot easier for me to get certain things in and out of Kesh. I now deal directly with those whom Zacanos previously distanced me from. He drummed his fingers on the chair arm. Still, I wish I had been able to get those documents from him. By the time my people got to his home in Shamata someone else had already been through his effects, leaving nothing of importance.
Who, I wonder? asked the Father-Bishop.
The Imperial Keshian Intelligence Service, said Dasher. Which, of course, doesnt exist.
What?
Jim waved his hand. Old family joke. He sighed. As long as the Emperor is smart enough to leave his spies in the control of Ali Shek Azir Hazara-Khan, I have my work cut out for me. He sat forward, as if in discomfort. That family has been responsible for more trouble between our two nations than any other single group of people.
Why not simply have them removed? asked Creegan.
Well, to begin with it would constitute an act of war, and we need an excuse to bloody our noses against Keshs Dog Soldiers like a house fire needs a barrel of pitch. Secondly, its not how things are done in the espionage game; death is the last choice in all circumstances. And lastly, I really like Ali. Hes very funny with some wonderful tales, and hes a very good gambler.
Your world is one I can barely understand, admitted the prelate.
As is yours to me, Father, but sometimes the greater good demands that we trust one another.
Obviously, or else you wouldnt be here. The Father-Bishop stood. I need to return to my office. As he walked his guest to the door he said, If you didnt engineer that encounter between Brother Mathias and the Keshian merchant, who did?
Youd have to ask Sandreena what she recalls; if there was another player in the game, I have no idea who it might be.
Perhaps it was simply the Goddesss plan, said Creegan and Jim saw he was not being facetious.
Jim said, Ive seen too much in my life to believe anything involving the gods to be out of the question.
Jim Dasher glanced out of the door and said, Ill try to be as inconspicuous on my way out as I was coming in.
Then goodbye, said the Father-Bishop as Jim Dasher hurried down the short hallway that led to the southernmost stairs. Creegan knew there was a good chance, despite the busy Temple throng, that the agent of the Crown would manage to get cleanly away with no one noticing the scruffy looking commoner.
He sighed; things were becoming far too complex and he worried that the enormity of their undertaking was going to prove too much, even for the combined resources of the Crown and the Temple. He put aside the thought as best he could; there was no point in wasting time and energy on matters beyond his control. Better to trust the Goddess and move on to the days needs.
Creegan followed Jim Dasher down the stairs and as he had suspected, saw no sign of the man in the massive, open courtyard when he reached the door.
CHAPTER THREE
Taredhel
THE AIR SHIMMERED.
A light breeze blew across the valley as heat waves rose from the warmed rocks on the hillside and larks flew overhead. The afternoon sun chased away the nights chill and bathed the grasses in a warm blanket as spring arrived in Novindus. A fox sunning herself raised her head in concern, for she smelled something unusual. Springing to her feet she turned her head left and right seeking the source. Curiosity soon gave way to caution and the vixen darted off, bounding into the shadowed woods.