luminescent brilliance between darker shadows.
Some intuition that she couldn't identify drew her attention to the east, where the long line of the King's Road faded into the high distance. There, high above the ground, she detected a gleaming pinpoint of light. At first she thought that a shooting star, bright enough to flare in the daylight, crackled through the sky at the limits of her vision. But the thing didn't seem to move-at least not perceptibly. Instead, it remained fixed in place, if anything growing slowly brighter. She observed it for several minutes, far longer than any shooting star could last even if it found a way to stay in one place for the duration of its spectacular life.
Then the High Queen understood: The flare appeared to stand still because it approached her! Growing steadily brighter, it passed beneath the clouds, and as it neared Caer Corwell, it slowly began to descend. Now she saw sparks of light falling away from the thing in a stream, like embers dropping from a blacksmith's forge in the wake of his shaping hammer.
A sense of foreboding slowly closed about the queen. Vaguely she heard castle guards shouting an alarm, heard trampling feet as men raced onto the walls and lower towers to gape at the approaching phenomenon.
By this time, she could see that the spot of light was actually an object, and slowly it became more detailed, sweeping into a long curve to approach the courtyard itself. She saw a chariot of crackling flame, pulled through the air by two blazing horses and swooping downward with ever-increasing speed. It looked more like a diving hawk than a galloping horse.
Finally she saw the passengers, two men standing in the box of the chariot, one holding the flaming reins and the other, a tall, slender fellow whose trousers flapped around his long, sticklike legs, standing alertly beside the driver.
'Keane!' she shouted, recognizing the tall man at last.
And then the fact of his arrival struck home. This wasn't Bakar Dalsoritan returning with the magic-user to the Moonshaes.
Immediately her foreboding flared into a full sense of alarm. She wasted no time with the tower stairs. Instead, she pitched herself from the rim of the parapet, immediately altering her features into those of another creature favored by the goddess. As a white hawk, she spiraled through a descent into the courtyard of the humble castle, returning to her human body in the instant before her claws touched the paving stones of the wide enclosure.
The flaming chariot swooped over the castle wall. Keane waving frantically to deter dozens of archers who seemed ready to let fly even without the command of their captain. Fortunately the tall mage was a familiar figure to these men, and they lowered their weapons to stare in astonishment at the enchanted transport.
The chariot finally came to rest in the courtyard just as King Kendrick himself emerged from the great hall. His daughter Alicia trailed close behind.
'Keane!' he shouted in delight, stepping forward to clasp the young mage around the shoulders with his good arm and hand.
'Your Majesty …. may I present Parell Hyath, Exalted Inquisitor of Helm!'
The patriarch stepped out of the chariot with remarkable agility for a man of his bulk and bowed deeply to the king. If Tristan felt any surprise at the appearance of a priest other than Bakar Dalsoritan, he gave no indication, instead warmly welcoming the huge cleric. The High King graciously apologized for the humble nature of Caer Corwell's surroundings, at the same time announcing that he held a real affection for this, his boyhood home.
By the time they concluded the formalities, the flaming chariot had faded into nothingness. Robyn stood silent, back from the throng that had started to gather. She knew of Helm's worship, knew that this cleric could not be an evil man and still remain true to his faith, yet she couldn't dispel a nagging sense of unease. After all, life was much more than a simple matter of good and evil struggling for prominence. The central tenet of her own faith remained the Balance, the equilibrium of all things. She couldn't bring herself to trust this man who, she knew, would be dedicated to toppling that equilibrium toward his own desires.
Robyn saw her daughter approach the mage and began to feel more comfortable as the king led the cleric toward the widespread doors of the keep.
'Welcome home,' Alicia said to Keane as the priest and king entered the great hall. 'That was quite an entrance!'
'It was quite a journey,' Keane agreed with a wry grin. 'Somehow it's a lot more nerve-racking to fly over an ocean than it is to teleport past it. Anyway, I'm glad I've got solid ground under my feet again.'
'So am I,' the princess said quietly, but with enough meaning to draw her mother's attention. Keane, too, heard the hidden warmth in the words. He looked at the princess sharply, as if he wanted to say something. Instead, he allowed her to take his arm and lead him toward the castle.
'A moment, please,' Robyn said as they passed. She had to know something. 'Bakar Dalsoritan…?'
The shadow on Keane's face answered her question before he spoke. 'He's … dead-murdered, as it happened, before I had a chance to speak with him. I'm sorry, my queen. I know he tutored you well and wisely.'
Nodding absently, Robyn felt the news flow right through her. She wasn't surprised, had even prepared herself subconsciously to hear this. Instead, her mind focused on questions and answers.
'That's terrible!' Alicia exclaimed, shaking her head sadly. 'I haven't seem him since I was a little girl, but he always seemed like a nice man. How did it happen?'
'There'll be time for details later,' Robyn interjected, knowing that the story would do little to soothe her apprehensions. 'Let's go inside with your father.'
They found the king and the inquisitor engaged in a frank discussion beside the sweeping fieldstone hearth of the keep. No fire glowed there now during the heat of summer, but it was still a place where Tristan liked to go for discussion and contemplation. Attendants and servants stood some distance back in the great hall, allowing the two men their privacy.
'Payment will be no problem,' the High King was saying as the trio approached. 'Of course, my treasury's in Callidyrr. If necessary, we can journey there beforehand….' His tone clearly indicated that he hoped it was not necessary.
'No need,' said the patriarch graciously. He stood and turned to face Keane and the two women. 'Incidentally, your young ambassador here did a splendid job of recruitment. I set aside my other affairs only by dint of his eloquent persuasion.'
'He's a man I'd trust with my life-or my family's,' Tristan agreed warmly. 'Well done, Keane.'
'Thank you, Sire.'
'Now then, to this business.' The king raised his arm, showing the cleric the wound at his wrist. The cut had healed cleanly, with skin fully grown over the rounded stub at the end of his arm. 'Do you have to make a lot of preparations?'
'Very few, actually,' said the cleric. He looked around the great hall, with its smoke-stained beams and wooden columns supporting the broad ceiling, the long stone walls, and the broad hearth. 'Perhaps we could find a smaller chamber-a bedroom or private apartment would be best. You'll want to rest, I'm certain. As for me, I could use a bite to eat and a glass or two of wine-for my strength-and then we can get started.'
'Splendid! We'll use my library upstairs. Alicia, will you have Gretta send up some nourishment for the patriarch? I'll show you the place. It should be perfect.' The three men left the hall, ascending the wide stairs to the family's apartments on the second floor while Robyn accompanied Alicia to the kitchen.
'Do you think it'll work, Mother?' inquired the princess nervously after they had requested a tray and bottle for the priest.
'I don't see why not,' Robyn said, without conviction. 'After all, an Exalted Inquisitor, so I've heard, is a rank achieved by no more than a handful of clerics at any given time. He must be very knowledgeable of his god.'
'I hope so!' Alicia declared with passion.
The two women joined the priest and the king in the library. Upon Hyath's instructions, they pulled the shutters and shades across the window, darkening the room, while Tristan made himself comfortable on a long, bedlike couch. Meanwhile the patriarch enjoyed some of the salt meats, bread, cheese, and wine of Corwell.
'If you three will wait in the next room, we'll get started,' Hyath instructed them after he cleaned his plate and very nearly emptied the bottle.
Robyn rose with noticeable reluctance, following Keane and Alicia into the adjacent anteroom. The inquisitor closed the door firmly behind them, and they settled down impatiently to wait.
