At the Gates of Darkness Part 2

'Only if you can supply me with more information than I've been privy too lately.'

Jim was silent for a long moment as he stared out into the fading light.

Brandos cleared his throat and said, 'I'm going to go inside; I will ask Samantha to rustle up something for you to eat. I imagine you're hungry.'

Jim smiled. 'Thank you, Brandos. That would be wonderful.' After the old fighter had left, Jim said, 'He should be a diplomat.'

Amirantha laughed. 'Hardly, but he can be discreet at times.'

Jim paused, then said, 'Very well. I expect that Pug will ask you to listen to my report anyway, as you are the demon expert.'

Amirantha nodded. 'That elf, Gulamendis, is the only being I've met who knows as much, possibly more.'

Jim looked uncomfortable. 'Those Star Elves make my skin itch. But they're a matter for another time.' Jim told the Warlock what he had witnessed in the distant Jal-Pur desert and when he was finished, he asked, 'What do you think?'

Amirantha said, 'I think we need to find a way to fetch Pug back here as soon as possible.'

'Why?'

Heading back towards the keep, Amirantha said, 'Come with me.'

He didn't wait to see if Jim followed, but hurried inside. He glanced around the common room and asked the four younger magicians there, 'Where is Jason?'

One of them pointed towards a door that led to a small room Pug occasionally used as a private office. Amirantha went to the door, knocked once and then opened it. Jason sat behind the tiny desk in the former storage room, squinting at a paper under the dim glow of a single candle. The tiny window above hardly admitted any light on the brightest of days.

'Yes?' he asked, apparently untroubled by the sudden entrance.

'Pug,' said Amirantha. 'You need to summon him at once.'

Jason sat back. 'And how am I supposed to do that, given that I have no idea where he is?'

Amirantha gave Jim a sidelong glance, then said, 'I count Pug many things, but a fool is not one of them. Even if you don't know where he is, I'm certain that he's left you with the means to contact or summon him, should the need arise; and such a need has arisen.'

'Really?' asked the younger magician. He looked at Jim for corroboration.

'I think so, as well,' said Jim.

'Very well,' said Jason, rising from behind the small desk. 'Come with me.' He picked up the candleholder.

He led them out of the room and across the floor of the keep's great hall. Brandos stood near his wife beside the large hearth where a pot of stew was simmering. The old fighter shot a questioning look at Amirantha, but with a nod of his head the Warlock indicated that he should stay where he was.

Jason led them up a flight of stairs to the upper floor of the main building and down a long hall that traversed the building to the tower opposite Amirantha's residence. The single candle Jason held provided the only light on that floor. To the best of the Warlock's knowledge, the tower stood empty, save for the enchantment on the top floor that caused the ominous blue light to glow whenever a ship came within sight of the castle.

They climbed a circular staircase to the second to last floor and Jason opened a door. Inside the room was bare, save for a construct of wood: two curving poles sat on top of a base that looked metallic. Amirantha glanced at Jason and said, 'Tsurani?'

The young magician said, 'In design, yes. Pug built it.'

'What is it?' asked Jim.

'A rift gate,' said Amirantha. 'What our friends the Star Elves call a portal.'

Jason went to a small shelf near a shuttered window and pulled down a small cloth bag. He handed the candle to Jim, then knelt and carefully opened the bag. Reaching inside he pulled out an odd looking device: a square box covered with odd designs, strange levers and wheels.

'This was created by an artificer of Tsurani descent, in LaMut. It's a little ungainly compared to the old Tsurani devices.' He shrugged as if what he was saying was simple trivia.

He then placed the device on the metallic base between the two poles, tripped one of the levers and stood back. 'I have no knowledge or ability when it comes to rift magic,' said the young magician. 'It is difficult and outside of my interests. Only Magnus and a few others know much about it, although no one knows as much as Pug. He had this constructed should the need arise to summon him.'

Suddenly a whooshing sound filled the room, then a crackle of energy, followed by a shimmering between the poles. A grey void appeared, scintillating colours ran faintly over its surface, like oil refracting light on water.

'Pug will receive the alert in a moment. He should appear as soon as he is able.'

'Do you know where he went?' asked Jim.

Jason said, 'We only know what little he tells us.'

Long moments dragged by, then, suddenly a figure stepped through the rift. A short man with a closely trimmed beard, Pug still wore the ancient fashion of the Tsurani Great Ones: a simple black robe and cross-gartered sandals. 'What is it?' he asked as soon as he was through.

Jason inclined his head towards Jim and Amirantha, and it was the Warlock who spoke. 'We're being played for fools, Pug.'

Pug's brow furrowed as he asked, 'What do you mean?'

'I'll explain,' said Amirantha, 'when Jim has told you what he saw a few days ago in the Jal-Pur, but it would help if we had another with us.'

'Who?'

'We need an expert on death.'

Pug looked slightly bemused. 'I know just the fellow.' He turned and held up his hand. The Warlock could feel shifting magic in the room, though Jim only felt his 'b.u.mp of trouble' start to act up. After a moment, Pug said, 'You two, follow me.' To Jason he said, 'Put the toy away when we're through.' He stepped into the rift.

Jim turned and said, 'Please send word to Captain Jenson to weigh anchor and make for Krondor. I'll find him there.' He turned and followed Pug.

Just before he entered, Amirantha turned to Jason and said, 'You might also tell Samantha that Jim and I will be missing supper tonight.' He then followed the other two men into the rift.

CHAPTER THREE - Sergeant-Adamant.

CREEGAN GESTURED WITH HIS HAND.

Sandreena entered his quarters still covered in dust from the road and feeling hunger pangs. Once she had given care of her horse over to the stable boy, she had paused only long enough to drink deeply from the well behind the temple, but she hadn't eaten anything but a handful of dried fruit and some nuts since leaving Land's End. Her order was mendicant and there was no dedicated shrine or temple in Land's End, so she had survived on what she had purchased in Durbin with the last of her coin.

The moment she handed her doc.u.ments to the Father-Bishop she knew something was wrong, something that had nothing to do with the message she had delivered to him. He waved her to sit in a chair opposite his desk and said, 'The Grand Master has pa.s.sed.'

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and made a short prayer to the G.o.ddess to care for the old man on his way to Lims-Kragma's domain. He had been a good man, almost saintly, and Sandreena had no doubt that he would be rewarded with a higher place on the Wheel of Life.

The Father-Bishop remained silent while she prayed; when she opened her eyes, she discovered him staring intently at her. 'Father-Bishop?'

Creegan smiled; it was not a friendly or warm expression, but rather the smile of a man finding humour in a very dark place. 'The end of life is not necessarily a cause for sorrow, daughter,' he said using the address usually reserved for minor members of the order, clearly communicating the difference in their ranks. She was uncertain why he felt the need to emphasise it, but knew he did nothing without a reason. 'The Grand Master served the G.o.ddess well, for many years and has earned his final rest.

'But the timing is...inconvenient.' He stood and said, 'I must leave at once for Rillanon, for the convocation is to be held only a week after the funeral, and the selection of the new High Priest is more critical than is usual.'

She knew he was referring to the matter of the demon host: the 'Legion' as it was called, was out there somewhere, threatening to bring its ravages upon this world. Few people within the temple, and even fewer outside, knew that the threat existed. Sandreena was aware of it only because of the confidence in which Father-Bishop Creegan held her. And fewer still knew of the relationship between the Father-Bishop and the Conclave of Shadows led by the magician Pug.

She merely nodded her head and said, 'I understand.'

'I know you do, Sandreena.' He rose from the desk, and sat on the corner, looking down at her. 'I have never told you, but there is a beauty to you that few notice.'

She was a little startled by the statement. There had always been an underlying tension between them, she found him a very attractive and powerful man, but his reputation as something of a womanizer, and their respective ranks, had always kept any inappropriate behaviour in check.

He held up his hand before she could speak. 'I don't mean your physical beauty-as impressive as it is when you choose to let others glimpse it-but rather a beauty of strength and purpose, what you've overcome and managed to achieve despite a desperately difficult beginning. It is most admirable.' He stood up and moved to the window. Looking out, he said, 'We may get more rain.' The rain along the coast had made her trip even more difficult, so she hoped he was wrong.

'I am leaving you in charge of the Order while I'm away.'

Her eyes widened. 'Me?'

'I'll send Father-Bishop Bellamy back, to a.s.sume my duties, but in the interim, you will take my place here.'

'Take your place?'

Creegan shrugged as if it were of no importance, but said, 'I will be the new Grand Master.' The way he said it, she realized it was a fait accompli. fait accompli. He glanced over and smiled. 'It was decided long ago. So, I will dispatch Bellamy as soon as the convocation is over, and you will then return to your duties, to do whatever he asks, for he will be speaking for me. Until then, you must take charge here.' He glanced over and smiled. 'It was decided long ago. So, I will dispatch Bellamy as soon as the convocation is over, and you will then return to your duties, to do whatever he asks, for he will be speaking for me. Until then, you must take charge here.'

'Why me?' she asked softly.

'You are the only one I trust, Sandreena.' He came back and sat behind the desk. 'Only a few know of what is really goingon out there. I'll leave you a list of names; do not trust anyone who is not on it. You've also earned the honour. Almost getting yourself killed isn't ideal, but you kept your wits about you when you realized the enormity of the political reality that has swept you up without warning.

'Few members of the Order would have coped so well with demons and secret alliances.'

'The High Priestess?' she asked.

Creegan smiled. 'She'll object, of course, but as she has no standing within the Order, I'll smile, nod, and suggest that she should pack if she's to leave with me on the ride to Salador.'

Sandreena nodded. The High Priestess Seldon had ambitions of her own and would be actively seeking a nomination to the office of High Priestess of the Grand Temple once the convocation began.

Creegan said, 'I suspect she'll dismiss you quickly and begin the endless flattery I will be subjected to on the journey.'

Sandreena couldn't help but smile. The High Priestess might be pleased to see Creegan leaving Krondor-their relationship had always held a contentious element-but his elevation to the highest calling in the Order, would make him an even more important voice in the temple, and he would have a great deal of influence over the succession when the current High Priestess stepped down.

'You'll only need to make one quick courtesy call, which I suggest you do now, before I let her know of your promotion.'

'Promotion?'

'Of course. I can't leave a Knight-Adamant in charge of the Order in the Western Realm. Effective immediately, you are now a Sergeant-Adamant of the Order, but will bear the office rank ofAdiuvare. It's an old t.i.tle we rarely use, but it's still recognized. So your official t.i.tle will be Adiuvare-Sergeant-Adamant. Once Bellamy arrives, you will become just another Sergeant.'

She tried not to smile. 'Just another Sergeant,' he said. As a rule, Knight-Adamants had to serve for twenty years to obtain the rank of Sergeant and few lived long enough. She was certain she not only was the youngest Sergeant in the Order, but perhaps in the history of the Order.

'I will do my best not to disappoint you, Father-Bishop.'

'If I thought there was even a remote possibility of that, I would have given the job to someone else,' said Creegan. 'Now, go make your call on the High Priestess, get something to eat, and rest. I think you'll discover the post is not as easy as you think.' He motioned to the pile of papers and said, 'More men have been defeated by reports than all the steel throughout history.' Then he made a dismissive gesture and she rose, bowed slightly, and left his quarters.

Under normal circ.u.mstances, she would have been elated by the promotion, for it would have been a signal that the G.o.ddess had found her service worthy. In this particular circ.u.mstance it felt not like a gift, or reward, but a heavy burden. Then she chided herself: if an even bigger burden had been placed on her, it simply meant that the G.o.ddess deemed her able to meet the demands of office.

Still, she thought as her stomach growled, she wished she could get something to eat before visiting the High Priestess.

Sandreena made her call on the High Priestess, who was, as Creegan predicted, distracted by her preparations to leave the next day for the arduous ride to the port of Salador where she and Creegan would take ship to Rillanon to attend the convocation to elect the new Grand Master of the Order of the Shield of the Weak. The High Priestess had no official duties regarding the Order, but as every prelate of rank would be in attendance while they conducted their ceremonies and elected Creegan, everyone one else would be playing temple politics. Sandreena was glad that she was to remain behind, even if she had been handed responsibility for the Order in Krondor, which involved supervising the Order in the entire Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles.

After she had finally eaten, Sandreena returned to the common barracks of the order and gave her dirty tabard and clothing to a servant to be cleaned. She preferred to care for her own arms and armour. She went to the communal baths and, pleased to find it empty, gave herself over to a completely thorough cleaning.

While she scrubbed her filthy hair, she considered her feelings about Creegan's departure; his promotion was as good as ordained since she had first met him, yet there was always this feeling. She sighed.

Encountering Amirantha after that near fatal attack on Sorcerer's Isle, had reignited feelings she would rather ignore. Creegan had the same effect on her. But, although her intimacy with Amirantha was something she wished had never happened, she suspected it was something she would regret with Creegan.

Her order was not celibate, though like most people given over to an important calling, personal issues were always of lesser importance; but, as a woman in her prime, she felt certain needs a.s.sert themselves from time to time.

She had never considered family a blessing, given how she grew up, yet now she often wondered about being a mother. She knew nothing about raising a child; her mother had been lost to drugs, drink and men, and no permanent father had been at hand. Being ill-used by men since she had begun to blossom had given her a very unforgiving perspective on them.

There were only two men she had come to care for, Brother Mathias who had rescued her from her Keshian slave master, and Father-Bishop Creegan, who had been her mentor, but now she was beginning to think he was more important to her than that.

There were two men she wished dead: A black hearted rogue called Jimmy Hand by some, Quick Jim by others, who had controlled the brothel where she had served as a high priced wh.o.r.e when she was little more than a girl, and who had sold her to the Keshian; And Amirantha. He had charmed her, lied to her, and used her, and had lived up to her general judgment on the worth of men.

A tiny pang told her she didn't truly wish Amirantha dead, but rather she wished that he had told her the truth. Even when she had lashed out and knocked him to the floor she had felt instant regret. She wished she could have told him that he had hurt her, but that would make her look weak.

Picking up a bucket she poured water over herself, cleaning away the dirt and soap, then bent over and ran a comb through her hair. The water was hot, but the air was cold after the pa.s.sing storms and she felt gooseflesh on her skin.

She decided to forego the meditative steam room and retired to the barracks. She donned a simple white shift and turned in early. She was a sound sleeper and should others of her order enter, she was sure they would not wake her. All she wanted for this night was a sound sleep with no dreams.

Morning brought the departure of the group travelling to Salador, led by the High Priestess and the Father-Bishop. As Creegan had predicted, Seldon was being as deferential as humanly possible to the prospective Grand Master of the Order of the Shield of the Weak, to the point of being cloying.

When she had awakened, Sandreena had discovered a new uniform laid out for her across the chest at the foot of her bed, and on top of it a new tabard, this one emblazoned with a chevron and crown above her heart, signifying her new rank of sergeant. She couldn't resist smiling as she beheld it. She was not a prideful woman by nature, but she did like how this badge of honour made her feel.

She had dressed and postponed a morning meal to be in the marshalling yard for the Father-Bishop's departure.

Creegan smiled when he saw her, and put his hand on her shoulder. 'The fate of the Order in the west is in your hands now, Sandreena.' He leaned in so no one else could over hear his words and he said, 'There's something on my desk that you need to read; it's the report you brought to me. Act on it at once. I'm not telling you what I would do; this must be your decision.'

Impulsively, he kissed her goodbye; but rather than a mere brush of lips, he lingered slightly, pulling back just before it became something both of them needed to worry about. 'May the G.o.ddess go with you,' he whispered.

Words failed her, she could only nod in response. As he mounted his horse, she only just managed to return the benediction. 'May the G.o.ddess go with you, Father-Bishop.'

The High Priestess was fussing over her mount, a mild palfrey but still spirited enough to make the older woman show concern as she sat uncomfortably on the small horse. It was obvious that Seldon would have preferred a litter, but the need to be in Rillanon by the date of the convocation prevented the more sedate mode of transport. She would be very sore and unhappy by the time they reached Salador.

The party moved out and as soon as they cleared the gate, Sandreena hurried to Creegan's office. On top of his desk lay two letters and the bundle she had carried from Durbin.

She looked at the first paper, which had her name on it. She opened it and read:Sandreena, if the G.o.ddess wills it, we will meet again. Know the trusts rests with you and I have faith you will discharge the duties I've given you as well as if I understood them myself. I've left you a list of those who you may rely upon-she knew he meant those who could be trusted in dealing with the Conclave-and a report you must attend to at once. May the G.o.ddess go with you. It was signed onlyCreegan.

She examined the list and saw only five names on it. Four were priests and one was the orderly a.s.signed to this office, the only members of the Order of the Shield who apparently knew about the Conclave of Shadows.