The Hidden City by David Eddings

Betuana dispatched runners to Matherion just before noon,

when the last of the demoralized Cyrgai capitulated. Sir Ulath

made an issue of the fact that what had happened to the Cymesgans

in the outer city might have influenced that decision to

some degree. Patriarch Bergsten had taken to looking at his

countryman with a critical and speculative eye. Bergsten was a

rough-and-ready churchman, willing to bend all sorts of rules

in the name of expediency, but he choked just a bit on Ulath’s

%led ecumenicism. ‘He’s just a little too enthusiastic, Sparhawk.”

the huge Patriarch declared. ‘All right, I’ll grant you that

the Trolls were useful, but -‘ He groped for a way to express

his innate prejudices.

‘There’s a rather special kinship between Ulath and Bhlokw,

your Grace,’ Sparhawk sidestepped the issue. ‘How much have

we got left to do here? I’d sort of like to get my wife back to

civilization. ‘

‘You can leave now, Sparhawk,’ Bergsten said with a shrug.

We can take care of cleaning up here. You didn’t leave very

much for the rest of us to worry about. I’ll stay here with the

‘knights to finish rounding up the Cyrgai; Tikume will take

his Peloi back to Cynestra to help Itagne and Atana Mans set

up the occupation, and Betuana’s going to send her Atans

into Arjuna to re-establish imperial authority.’ He made a sour

face.

‘There’s nothing really left but all the niggling little administrative

details. You’ve robbed me of a very good fight,

Sparhawk.’

‘I can send for more of klael’s soldiers if you want, your Grace.

‘No. That’s all right, Sparhawk,’ Bergsten replied quickly. ‘I

can live without any more of those fights. You’ll be going straight

back to Matherion?’

‘Not straight back, your Grace. Courtesy obliges us to escort

Anarae Xanetia back to Delphaeus.’

‘She’s a very strange lady,’ Bergsten mused. ‘I keep catching

myself just on the verge of genuflection every time she enters

a room. ‘

‘She has that effect on people, your Grace. If you really don’t

‘need us here, I’ll talk with the others, and we’ll get ready to leave.’

‘What actually happened, Sparhawk?’ Bergsten asked directly.

‘I have to make a report to Dolmant, and I can’t make much

sense out of what the others have been telling me.’

‘i’m not sure I can explain it, your Grace,’ Sparhawk replied.

“helliom and I were sort of combined for a while. It needed my

arm, I guess.’ It was an easy answer, and it evaded a central

issue that Sparhawk was not yet fully prepared to even think

about.

‘You were just a tool, then?’ Bergsten’s look was intent.

Sparhawk shrugged. ‘Aren’t we all, your Grace? We’re the

instruments of God. That’s what we get paid for.’

‘Sparhawk, you’re right on the verge of heresy here. Don’t

throw the word “God” around like that.’

‘No, your Grace,’ Sparhawk agreed. ‘It’s just a reflection of

the limitations of language. There are things that we don’t

understand and don’t have names for. We just lump them all

together, call it “God”, and let it go at that. You and I are soldiers,

Patriarch Bergsten. We get paid to hit the ground running

when somebody blows a trumpet. Let Dolmant sort it out. That’s

what he gets paid for.’

Sparhawk and his friends, accompanied by Kring, Betuana and

Engessa, rode out of shattered Cyrga shortly after dawn the

following morning, bound for Sama. Sparhawk had neither seen

nor heard from Bhelliom since his encounter with Cyrgon,

and he felt a peculiar sense of disappointment about that. The

Troll-Gods had also departed with their children – all

except for Bhlokw, who shambled along between Ulath and Tynian.

Bhlokw was evasive about his reasons for accompanying

them.

They rode northeasterly across the barren wastes of Cynesga,

traveling in easy stages. The urgent need for haste was gone

now. Sephrenia and Xanetia, once again working in concert,

had returned all the faces to their rightful owners, and things

were slowly settling back to ‘normal.

It was about mid-morning ten days after they had left Cyrga

and when they were but a few leagues from Sama that Vanion

rode forward to join Sparhawk at the head of the column. ‘A

word with you, Sparhawk?’ he said.

‘Of course.’

‘It’s sort of private.’

Sparhawk nodded, turned the column over to Bevier and

nudged Faran into a rolling canter. He and Vanion slowed again

when they were about a quarter of a mile ahead of the others.

‘Sephrenia wants us to get married,’ Vanion said, cutting past

any preamble.

‘You’re asking my permission?’

Vanion gave him a long, steady look.

‘Sorry,’ Sparhawk apologized. ‘You took me by surprise.

There are problems with that’, you know. The Church will never

approve, and neither will the Thousand of Styricum. We’re not

quite as hide-bound as we used to be, but the notion of interracial

or interfaith marriage still raises some hackles.’

‘I know,’ Vanion said glumly. ‘Dolmant probably wouldn’t

have any personal objections, but his hands are tied by Church

law and doctrine.’

‘Who are you going to get to officiate, then?’

‘Sephrenia’s already solved that problem. Xanetia’s going to

perform the ceremony.’

Sparhawk nearly choked on that.

‘She is a priestess, Sparhawk.’

‘Well – technically, I suppose.’ Then Sparhawk suddenly

broke out laughing.

‘What’s so funny?’ Vanion demanded truculently.

‘Can you imagine the look on Ortzel’s face when he hears

that a Preceptor of one of the four orders, a Patriarch of the

Church, has been married to one of the Thousand of Styricum

by a Delphaeic priestess?’

‘It does violate a few rules, doesn’t it?’ Vanion conceded with

a wry smile.

‘A few? Vanion, I doubt that you could find any single act

that’d violate more.’

‘Do you object, too?’

‘Not me, old friend. If this is what you and Sephrenia want,

I’ll back the two of you all the way up to the Hierocracy.’

‘Would you stand up with me, then? During the ceremony, I

mean?’

Sparhawk clapped him on the shoulder. ‘i’d be honored, my

lord.”

‘Good. That’ll keep it all in the family. Sephrenia’s already

spoken to your wife about it. Ehlana’s going to stand with

her.’

‘Somehow I almost knew that was coming,’ Sparhawk

laughed.

They passed through Sama and proceeded north along a

snow-clogged mountain trail toward Dirgis in southern Atan.

after they left Dirgis, they turned westward again and rode higher into the

mountains.

‘We’re leaving a very wide trail behind us, Sparhawk,’ Bevier

said late one snowy afternoon. ‘And the trail’s leading directly

to Delphaeus.’

Sparhawk turned and looked back. ‘You’ve got a point,’ he

conceded. ‘Maybe I’d better have a talk with Aphrael. Things

have changed a bit, but I don’t think the Delphae are quite ready

to welcome crowds of sightseers.’ He turned Faran around and

rode back to join the ladies. Aphrael, as usual, rode with

Sephrenia. ‘A suggestion, Divine One?’ Sparhawk said tentatively.

‘You sound just like Tynian.’

He ignored that. ‘How good are you with weather?’ he asked.

‘Did you want it to be summer?’

‘No. Actually I want a moderate-sized blizzard. We’re leaving

tracks in the snow behind us, and the tracks are pointing straight

at Delphaeus.’

‘What difference does that make?’

‘The Delphae might not want unannounced visitors.’

‘There won’t be any – announced or otherwise. You promised

to seal their valley, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, God!” he said. ‘i’d forgotten about that. This is going to

be a problem. I don’t have Bhelliom any more.’

‘Then you’d better try to get in touch with it, Sparhawk. A

promise is a promise, after all. Xanetia’s kept her part of the

bargain, so you’re morally obliged to keep yours.’

Sparhawk was troubled. He rode off some distance into a thick

grove of spindly sapling pines and dismounted. ‘Blue Rose,’ he

said aloud, not really expecting an answer. ‘Blue Rose.’

‘I hear thee, Anakha,’ the voice in his mind responded

immediately. ‘I had thought thou might be in some way discontent

with me.”

‘Never that, Blue Rose. Thou hast fulfilled – or exceeded – all

that I did require of thee. Our enemies are overthrown, and I

am content. I did, however, pledge mine honor to the Delphae

in exchange for their aid. I am obliged to seal up their valley

that none of this world may come upon them.’

‘I do recall thy pledge, Anakha. It was well-given. Soon, however,

it will not be needful.’

‘Thy meaning escapes me.’

‘Watch then, my son, and learn.’ There was a lengthy pause

‘It is not mine intent to offend, but why hast thou brought this

to me?’

‘I gave my word that I would seal their valley, Father.’

‘Then seal it.’

‘I was not certain that I could still speak with thee to entreat

thine aid.’

‘Thou hast no need of aid, Anakha – not mine nor that of any

other. Did not thine encounter with Cyrgon convince thee that

all things are possible for thee? Thou art Anakha and my son,

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