with unruffled calm. ‘Given the nature of our opponent, we’re
face to face with a “Crisis of the Faith”, and that suspends all
the other rules. God needs your axe, Bergsten, not your theology.’
He squinted at the Thalesian Patriarch. ‘You don’t seem
convinced,’ he said.
‘i’m not trying to be offensive, Morsel, but “Crisis of the
Faith” can’t just be pulled out and dusted off whenever we want
to bend some rules.’
‘All right, let’s try this one then. This is Astel, and your
Church at Chyrellos recognizes my authority here. As long as
we’re in Astel, I speak for God.’
Bergsten pulled off his helmet and absently polished the
glossy black Ogre-horns on his sleeve. ‘Technically, I suppose,’
he conceded.
‘Technicalities are the very soul of doctrine, your Grace.’ Morsel’s
huge beard bristled with disputational fervor. ‘Do you agree
that I speak for God here in Astel?’
‘All right, for the sake of argument, yes.’
‘i’m glad you agree, I’d hate to have to excommunicate you.
Now then, I speak for God here, and God wants you to take
command of the Church Knights. Go forth and smite God’s
enemies, my son, and may heaven strengthen your arm.’
Bergsten squinted out the window at the dirty-looking sky for
a long moment, mulling the clearly specious argument over in
his mind. ‘You take full responsibility, Morsel?’ he asked.
‘I do.’
‘That’s good enough for me, then.’ Bergsten crammed his
helmet back on his head. ‘Sir Heldin, go tell the knights that
I’m assuming command of the four orders. Instruct them to
make all the necessary preparations. We march first thing in the
morning.’
‘At once, General Bergsten,’ Heldin replied, coming to
attention.
‘Anakha,’ Bhelliom’s voice echoed in the vaults of Sparhawk’s
mind, ‘thou must awaken.’
Even before he opened his eyes, Sparhawk could feel a light
touch on the thong about his neck. He caught the little hand
and opened his eyes. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he
demanded of the Child Goddess.
‘I hav to have the Bhelliom, Sparhawk!’ her voice was desperate,
and her eyes were streaming tears.
‘What’s going on, Aphrael? Calm down and tell me what’s
happened. ‘
‘Sephrenia’s been stabbed! She’s dying! Please, Sparhawk!
Give me the Bhelliom!’
He came to his feet all in one motion. ‘Where did this happen?’
‘In Dings. She was getting ready for bed, and Zalasta
came into her room. He stabbed her in the heart, Sparhawk!
please, Father, give me the Bhelliom! I’ve got to have it to
save her!’
‘She’s still alive?’
“yes, but I don’t know for how long! Xanetia’s with her. She’s
using a Delphaeic spell to keep her breathing, but she’s dying,
my sister’s dying!’ She wailed and hurled herself into his arms,
weeping uncontrollably.
‘Stop that, Aphrael. this isn’t helPing. When did this
happen?’
‘A couple of hours ago. Please, Sparhawk! Only Bhelliom can
save her!’
We can’t, Aphrael. If we take Bhelliom out of that box, Cyrgon
will know immediately that we’re trying to trick him, and Scarpa
will kill your mother!’
The Child Goddess clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably. ‘I
know!’ she wailed. ‘What are we going to do, Father? We can’t
just let her die!’
‘Can’t you do something?’
‘The knife touched her heart, Sparhawk. I can’t reverse that!
Only Bhelliom has that kind of power!’
Sparhawk’s soul seemed to shrivel, and he smashed at the
wall with his fist. He lifted his face.
‘What can I do?’ he hurled his voice upward. ‘What in God’s name can I do?”
‘Compose thyself, Anakha!’ Bhelliom’s voice was sharp in his
mind. ‘Thou wilt serve neither Sephrenia nor thy mate by this
unseemly display!’
‘We have to do something, Blue Rose!’
‘Thou art not at this moment fit to decide. Thou must therefore
be ruled by me. Go at once and do as the Child Goddess doth
entreat thee.’
‘Thou wilt condemn my wife!’
‘That is not certain, Anakha. Sephrenia, however, doth linger
on the brink of death. That much is certain. It is her need that
is most pressing.’
‘No. I can’t do that!’
‘Thou wilt obey me, Anakha! Thou art my creature, and therefore
subject to my will. Go thou and do as I have commanded
thee!’
CHAPTER 12
Sparhawk dug into his sea-bag, throwing clothes on the
floor.
‘What are you doing?’ Aphrael demanded urgently. ‘We have
to hurry!’
‘i’ve got to leave a note for Stragen, but I can’t find any paper.’
‘Here.’ She held out her hand, and a sheet of parchment
appeared in it.
‘Thank you.’ He took the parchment and continued to rummage
in the bag.
‘Get on with it, Sparhawk.’
‘I need something to write with.’
She muttered something in Styric and handed him a quill and
a small inkpot.
‘Vymer,’ Sparhawk scribbled, ‘something’s come up, and I’ll
be gone for a while. Keep Reldin out of trouble.’ And he signed
it, ‘From.’ Then he laid it in the center of Stragen’s bed.
“Now can we go?’ she asked impatiently.
‘How are you going to do this?’ He picked up his cloak.
“We have to get out of town first. I don’t want anybody to see
us. What’s the quickest way to the woods?’
‘East. It’s about a mile to the edge of the forest.’
‘Let’s go.’
They left the room, went down the stairs and on out into the
Street. Sparhawk picked her up and half-enfolded her in his
cloak.
‘I can walk,’ she protested.
‘Not without attracting attention, you can’t. You’re a StyriC,
and people would notice that.’ He started off down the street,
carrying her in his arms.
‘Can’t you go any faster?’
“just let me handle this part of it, Aphrael. If I start running,
people will think I’ve stolen you.’ He looked around to make
sure no one on the muddy street was close enough to hear.
‘How are you going to manage this?’ he asked her. ‘There are
people out there who can feel it when you tamper with things,
you know. We don’t want to attract attention.’
She frowned. ‘i’m not sure. I was upset when I came here. ‘
‘Are you trying to get your mother killed?’
‘That’s a hateful thing to say.’ She pursed her little mouth in
thought. ‘There’s always a certain amount of noise,’ she mused.
‘I didn’t quite follow that.’
‘it’s one of the disadvantages of having our two worlds overlap
the way they do. The sounds of one sort of spill over into
the other. Most humans can’t hear us – or feel us – when we
move around, but we can definitely hear and feel each other.’
Sparhawk crossed the street to avoid a noisy brawl that had
just erupted from a sailors’ tavern. ‘if the others can hear you.,
how are you going to hide what you’re doing?’
‘You didn’t let me finish, Sparhawk. We’re not alone here.
There are others all around us – my family, the Tamul Gods,
your Elene God, various spirits and ghosts, and the air’s positively
littered with the Powerless Ones. Sometimes they flock
up ,like migrating birds.’
He stopped and stepped back to let a rickety charcoal wagon
creak past. ‘Who are these “Powerless Ones?”?’ he asked her.
‘Are they dangerous?’
‘Hardly. They don’t even really exist any more. They’re nothing
but memories – old myths and legends.’
‘Are they real? Could I see them?’
‘Not unless you believe in them. They were Gods once, but
their worshippers either died out or were converted to the worship
of other Gods. They wail and flutter around the edges of
reality without substance or even thought. All they have is
need.’ She sighed. ‘We go out of fashion, Sparhawk – like last
years gowns or old shoes and hats. The Powerless Ones are
discarded Gods who shrink and shrink as the years go by until
they’re finally nothing at all but a kind of anguished wailing.’
She sighed again. ‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘there’s all this noise
in the background, and it makes it very hard to concentrate or
pick out specifics.’
They passed another smelly tavern loud with drunken song.
‘is this noise something like that?’ Sparhawk asked, jerking his
head toward the singing. ‘Meaningless sound that fills up your
ears and keeps you from hearing what you’re really listening
for?’
‘More or less. We have a couple of senses that you don’t,
though, so we know when others are around, for one thing,
and we know when they’re doing things – tampering, if you
want to call it that – for another. Maybe I can hide what I’m
doing in all that other noise. How much further do we have to
go?’ He turned a corner into a quiet street. ‘We’re coming to the
edge of town now.’ He shifted her in his arms and continued
on up the street, walking a little faster now. The houses here
on the outskirts of Beresa were more substantial, and they were
set back from the streets in aloof, self-important pride. ‘After