Her narrowed eyes grew cautious as she assessed the Hierarch’s mood, then she drew herself up and addressed King Urgit. “There is also a civil crime here, your Majesty,” she told him. “I had believed that the desecration of the Sanctum was more serious, but since our revered Hierarch has discovered in his wisdom that those charges were unfounded, it is now my duty to advise you of a crime against the State.”
Urgit exchanged a quick look with Agachak, then slouched lower in his chair, his eyes unhappy. “The Crown is always ready to listen to the words of the priesthood,” he replied without much enthusiasm.
Chabat gave Sadi another look of smug triumph and open hatred. “Since the founding of our nation, the vile drugs and poisons of the snake-people have been forbidden in Cthol Murgos by royal decree,” she pointed out. “After this Ussa and his servants were confined in the dungeon, I had their belongings searched.” She turned. “Bring in that case,” she ordered.
A side door opened, and an obsequious underpriest entered, carrying Sadi’s red leather case. The fanatic Sorchak took it from him, his face also gleefully triumphant. “Behold the evidence that Ussa of Sthiss Tor has violated our law and that his life is forfeit,” he said in his strident voice. He undid the latch, opened the case, and displayed Sadi’s many vials and the earthenware bottle where Zith resided.
Urgit’s face grew even more unhappy. He looked uncertainly at Sadi. “Is there some explanation for this, Ussa?” he asked hopefully.
Sadi’s face took on an exaggerated expression of innocence. “Surely your Majesty could not believe that I ever intended to try to distribute those items here in Cthol Mur-gos,” he protested.
“Well,” Urgit said lamely, “you have got them with you.”
“Of course, but they’re for trade with the Malloreons. There’s quite a market for this sort of thing among those people.”
“I wouldn’t be in the least surprised,” Urgit said, straightening in his chair. “Then you had no intention of peddling your drugs to my subjects?”
“Most certainly not, your Majesty,” Sadi replied indignantly.
Urgit’s expression grew relieved. “Well,” he said to the glowering Chabat, “there you have it, then. Certainly none of us could object to the fact that our Nyissan friend here is bent on corrupting the Malloreons—the more the better, I’d say.”
“What about this?” Sorchak said, putting Sadi’s case on the floor and lifting out the earthenware bottle. “What secret is hidden in here, Ussa of Sthiss Tor?” He shook the bottle.
“Be careful, man!” Sadi exclaimed, leaping forward with his hand outstretched.
“Ah-ha!” Chabat exclaimed triumphantly. “It appears that there is something in that bottle that the slaver considers important. Let us examine the contents. It may yet be that some undiscovered crime lurks here. Open the bottle, Sorchak.”
“I beg of you,” Sadi pleaded. “If you value your life, do not tamper with that bottle.”
“Open it, Sorchak,” Chabat ordered relentlessly.
The smirking Grolim shook the bottle again and then began to work out the stopper.
“Please, noble Priest!” Sadi’s voice was anguished.
“We’ll just have a look.” Sorchak grinned. “I’m sure that one look won’t hurt anything.” He drew out the cork and raised the bottle to his eye to peer in.
Zith, of course, took immediate action.
With a strangled shriek, Sorchak arched backward, flinging both arms into the air. The earthenware bottle sailed upward, and Sadi caught it just before it struck the floor. The stricken priest clapped both hands over his eye. There was a look of horror on his face, and blood spurted out from between his fingers. He began to squeal like a pig, all of his limbs convulsing. He suddenly pitched forward, threshing wildly and clawing tatters of skin from his face. He began to bang his head on the floor. His convulsions grew more violent and he began to froth at the mouth. With a shrill shriek, he suddenly leaped high into the air. When he came down, he was dead.
There was a moment of stunned silence, then Chabat suddenly shrieked, “Sorchak!” Her voice was filled with anguish and insupportable loss. She flew to the side of the dead man and fell across his body, sobbing uncontrollably.
Urgit stared in open-mouthed revulsion at Sorchak’s corpse. “Torak’s teeth!” he swore in a strangled whisper, “what have you got in that bottle, Ussa?”
“Uh—it’s a pet, your Majesty,” Sadi replied nervously. “I did try to warn him.”
“Indeed you did, Ussa,” Agachak crooned. “We all heard you. Do you suppose I might see this pet of yours?” A cruel smile crossed his face as he looked gloatingly at the hysterically sobbing Chabat.
“Certainly, Holy One,” Sadi answered quickly. He carefully laid the bottle on the floor. “Just a precaution,” he apologized. “She’s a little excited, and I wouldn’t want her to make any mistakes.” He leaned over the bottle. “It’s all right now, dear,” he said soothingly to the vengeful little reptile lurking inside. “The bad man has gone away, and everything is fine now.”
Zith sulked in her bottle, still greatly offended.
“Really, dear,” Sadi assured her, “it’s all right. Don’t you trust me?”
There was a snippy little hiss from inside the bottle.
“That’s a very naughty thing to say, Zith,” Sadi gently reproved her. “I did everything I could to keep him from disturbing you.” He looked apologetically at Agachak. “I really don’t know where she picks up such language, Holy One,” he declared. He turned his attention back to the bottle. “Please, dear, don’t be nasty.”
Another spiteful little hiss came from the bottle.
“Now that’s going entirely too far, Zith. You come out of there at once.”
Cautiously the little green snake poked her head out of the bottle, raised herself, and looked at the corpse on the floor. Sorchak’s face was a ghastly blue color, and the foam was drying on his lips. Chabat, still weeping hysterically, clung to his stiffening body. Zith slithered the rest of the way out of her little house, dismissed the dead man with a contemptuous flick of her tail, and crawled to Sadi, purring with a smug little sound of self-satisfaction. Sadi reached down his hand to her, and she nuzzled affectionately at his fingers. “Isn’t she adorable?” he said fondly. “She’s always so kittenish after she bites someone.”
A slight movement caught Garion’s eye. Velvet was leaning forward, looking at the contentedly purring little reptile with an expression of wholly absorbed fascination.
“You’ve got her under control, haven’t you, Ussa?” Urgit asked in a faintly apprehensive voice.
“Oh, yes, your Majesty,” Sadi assured him. “She’s perfectly content now. In a little bit, I’ll give her a light snack and a nice little bath, and she’ll sleep like a baby.”
Urgit turned back to the Hierarch. “Well, Agachak?” he said, “what’s your decision? Personally, I see no reason to continue this investigation. The slaver and his servants appear to be quite blameless.”
The Hierarch considered it, his eyes hooded. “I believe you’re right, your Majesty.” He turned to one of his Grolims. “Free this idiot boy,” he said, pointing at Eriond.
Chabat, her scarred face ravaged by grief, slowly raised herself from Sorchak’s body. She looked first at Urgit and then at Agachak. “And what of this?” she demanded in a voice vibrant with her emotion. “What of this?” She indicated the stiffening Sorchak at her feet. “Who is to be punished for this? Upon whom shall I wreak my vengeance?”
“The man died through his own act, Chabat,” Agachak dismissed her demand. “There was no crime involved.”
“No crime?” Her voice was choked. “No crime?” It rose in a crescendo. “Are Grolim lives so cheap that you will now throw them away?” She spun and fixed Sadi with her burning eyes. “You will pay for this, Ussa of Sthiss Tor,” she declared. “I swear it upon the body of Sorchak and upon that of Torak. You will never escape me. I will have revenge upon you and all your servants for the death of Sorchak.”
“Why are you so upset, Chabat?” Agachak asked with malicious amusement in his hollow voice. “There are scores of Grolims in the Temple. Sorchak was one like all the rest— greedy, ambitious, and deceitful. His death was the result of his own folly—and of yours.” A cruel smile touched his thin lips. “Could it be that your interest in this dead Grolim was personal? You have long been my favorite, Chabat. I trusted you entirely. Is it possible that you have been unfaithful to me, seeking entertainment in the arms of another?”
Her face blanched, and she lifted one trembling hand to her lips as she realized that she had gone too far and revealed too much.
Agachak laughed, a chilling sound. “Did you actually believe that I was so engrossed in my search for the Sardion that I was not aware of your private amusements?” He paused. “Tell me, Chabat,” he said in an offhand way, “did you and Sorchak ever succeed in raising a demon?”