purpose or direction.’
‘i’d say we got us a problem,’ Caalador drawled. ‘Ol’ Krager,
he don’t know th’ way on accounta he wuz too drunk t’ Pay
attention when Zalasta wuz a-talkin”bout how t’ git t’ Cyrga,
an’ Scorpa’s too crazy t’ remember how he got that.’ His eyes
narrowed, and he discarded the dialect. ‘What about Cyzada?’
he asked Xanetia.
She shuddered. ‘It is not madness nor drunkenness which
doth bar my way into the thought of Cyzada of Esos,’ she replied
in a voice filled with revulsion. ‘Deeply hath he reached into
the darkness that was Azash, and the creatures of the netherworld
have possessed him so utterly that his thought is no longer
human. His spells at first did in some measure control those
horrid demons, but then he did summon Klael, and in that act
was all unloosed. Prithee, do not send me again into that soothing
chaos. He doth indeed know a route to Cyrga, but we could
in no wise follow that path, for it doth lie through the realm of
sine and darkness and unspeakable horror.’
That more or less exhausts the possibilities of this place then,
doesn’t it?’ They all turned quickly at the sound of the familiar
voice. The Child Goddess sat demurely on a window-ledge holding
her pipes in her hands.
is this wise, Divine One?’ Bevier asked her.
‘Won’t our enemies sense your presence?”
‘There’s no one left here who can do that, Bevier,’ she replied.
‘Zalasta’s gone. I just stopped by to tell you that Berit’s received
new instructions. He and Khalad are going to Vigayo, a village
just on the other side of the Cynesgan border. As soon as you’re
ready, I’ll take you there.’
‘What good will that do?’ Kalten asked.
‘I need to get Xanetia close to the next messenger,’ she replied.
‘Cyrga’s completely concealed – even from me. There’s a key to
that illusion, and that’s what we have to find. Without that key,
we could all grow old wandering around out in that wasteland
and still not find the city.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Sparhawk conceded. He looked
directly at her. ‘Can you arrange another meeting? We’re getting
close to the end of this, and I need to talk with the others Vanion
and Bergsten in particular, and probably with Betuana
and Kring as well. We’ve got armies at our disposal, but they
won’t be much use if they’re running off in three different directions
or attacking Cyrga piecemeal. We’ve got a general idea of
where the place is, and I’d like to put a ring of steel around it,
but I don’t want anybody to go blundering in there until we get
Ehlana and Alcan safely out.’
‘You’re going to get me in trouble, Sparhawk,’ she said tartly.
‘Do you have any idea of the kinds of promises I’ll have to make
to get permission for that kind of gathering? – and I’ll have to
keep all those promises too.’
‘It’s really very important, Aphrael.’
She stuck her tongue out at him, and then she wavered and
vanished.
‘Domi Tikume sent orders, your Reverence,’ the shaved-headed
Peloi advised Patriarch Bergsten when they met in the churchman’s
tent just outside the town of Pela in central Astel. ‘We’re
to provide whatever assistance we can.’
‘Your Domi’s a good man, friend Daiya,’ the armored Patriarch
replied.
‘His orders stirred up a hornet’s nest,’ Daiya said wryly. ‘The
idea of an alliance with the Church Knights set off a theological
debate that went on for days. Most people here in Astel believe
that the Church Knights were born and raised in Hell. A fair
number of the debaters are currently taking the matter up with
God in person. ‘
‘I gather that religious disputes among the Peloi are quite
spirited.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Daiya agreed. ‘The message from Archimandrite
Morsel helped to quiet things, though. Peloi religious thought
isn’t really all that profound, your Reverence. We trust God
and leave the theology to the churchmen. If the Archimandrite
approves, that’s good enough for us. If he’s wrong, he’s the one
who’ll burn in Hell for it.’
‘How far is it from here to Cynestra?’ Bergsten asked him.
‘About a hundred and seventy-five leagues, your Reverence.’
‘Three weeks,’ Bergsten muttered sourly. ‘Well, there’s not
much we can do about that, I suppose. We’ll start out first thing
in the morning. Tell your men to get some sleep, friend Daiya.
It’s probably going to be in short supply for the next month or SO. ‘
‘Bergsten.’ The voice crooning his name was light and musical.
The Thalesian Patriarch sat up quickly, reaching for his axe.
‘Oh, don’t do that, Bergsten. I’m not going to hurt you.’
‘Who’s there?’ he demanded, fumbling for his candle and his
flint and steel. ‘
‘Here.’ A small hand emerged from the darkness with a
tongue of flame dancing on its palm.
Bergsten blinked. His midnight visitor was a little girl – Styric,
he guessed. She was a beautiful child with long hair and large
eyes as dark as night. Bergsten’s hands started to tremble.
“you’re Aphrael, aren’t you?’ he choked.
“good observation, your Grace. Sparhawk wants to see you.’
He drew back from this personage that standard Church doctrine
told him did not – could not – exist.
“you’re being silly, your Grace,’ she told him. ‘You know that
I wouldn’t even be talking to you if I didn’t have permission
from your God, don’t you? I can’t even come near you without
permission.’
“well, theoretically,’ he reluctantly conceded. ‘You could be a
demon, though, and the rules don’t apply to them.’
“Do I look like a demon?”
‘Appearance and reality are two different things,’ he insisted.
Afrael looked into his eyes and pronounced the true name of the
Ehlene god, one of the most closely-kept secrets of the Church. ‘A
demon couldn’t say that name, could it, your Grace?’
‘Well, I suppose not.’
‘We’ll get along well, Bergsten,’ she smiled, kissing him lightly
on the cheek. ‘Ortzel would have argued that point for weeks.
Leave your axe here, please. Steel makes my flesh crawl.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘To meet with Sparhawk. I already told you that.’
‘is it far?’
‘Not really.’ She smiled, opening the tent flap.
It was still night in Pela, but it was broad daylight beyond the
tent flap – a strange sort of daylight. A pristine white beach
stretched down to a sapphire sea all under a rainbow-colored
sky, and a small green eyot surmounted by a gleaming alabaster
temple rose from that incredibly blue sea about a half-mile from
the beach. ‘What place is this!’ Bergsten asked, poking his head out of
the tent and looking around in amazement.
‘I suppose you could call it Heaven, your Grace,’ the Child
Goddess replied, blowing out the flame dancing on her palm.
‘It’s mine, anyway. There are others, but this one’s mine.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Everywhere and anywhere. All the Heavens are everyplace
all at once. So are all the Hells, of course – but that’s another
story. Shall we go?’
CHAPTER ?21
Cordz of Nelan was the perfect man. That realization had not
come easily to the devout Edomishman. It had only been after
octended soul-searching and a meticulous examination of the
sacred texts of his faith that he had arrived at the inescapable conclusion.
He was perfect. He obeyed all of God’s commandments,
he did what he was supposed to do, and he did not do the things
that were forbidden. Isn’t that what perfection is all about?
It was a comfort to be perfect, but Cordz was not one to rest
on his laurels. Now that he had achieved perfection in the eyes
of God, it was time to turn his attention to the faults of his
neighbors. Sinners, however, seldom sin openly, so Cordz was
forced to resort to subterfuge. He peeked through windows
at night, he eavesdropped on private conversations, and,
when his sinful neighbors cleverly concealed their wrongdoing
from him, he imagined the sins they might be committing. The
sabbath was a very special day for Cordz, but not for the service.
After all, what need had a perfect man for sermons?
It was on the Sabbath that he was able to rise to his feet and
announce the sins of his neighbors, both the sins they hand committed
and the sins they might be committing.
He robably irritated the Devil. God knows he irritated his
%ms.
then a crisis had arisen in Edam. The debauched and
Church of Chyrellos, after two eons of plotting and
yr was finally preparing to make her move against the
s. The Church Knights were on the march, and horrors
unagining marched with them.
Cordz was among the first to enlist in Rebal’s army, the perfect
man abandoned his neighbors to their sinful ways to join a holier
cause. He became Rebal’s most trusted messenger, killing horses
by the dozen as he rushed about the Elene kingdoms of western