foultongued witch of a sister thwart the wishes of the church, they must be in league with the powers of darkness. Bring them back to the paths of righteousness, Brother Michael. Bring them back, or I will begin to wonder about YOU.'
The high cleric waddled out the door, accompanied by his heavily armed bodyguards. He rolled to his carriage, waving his hand in lethargic blessing to several peasants, who humbly doffed their caps and bowed their heads. When the priest disappeared inside the carriage, the peasants stared after his rich equipage with grim and angry faces in which could be seen the cruel pinch of hunger and want.
Brother Michael stood a long time in the doorway, watching the cloud of dust raised by the carriage wheels. His hand clasped the holy symbol around his neck.
'Grant me understanding, Mishakal,' he prayed to the gentle goddess. 'You are the only light in this terrible darkness.'
Brother and sister, within the hall, heard the carriage wheels rattle over the flagstone of the courtyard and each breathed a sigh. The knight drew his sword, stared at it ruefully.
'What have I done? Drawn steel against a holy father!'
'He deserved it,' said Nikol stoutly. 'I wish I'd had mine. I'd have relieved him of a few chins!'
Both turned at the sound of footsteps entering the hall. The family healer paused in the doorway.
'Come in, Brother Michael. As always, you are one of us,' said Nikol, mistaking his hesitation for a reluctance to intrude on their private conversation.
Michael was, in reality, wondering how he would tell them, wondering whether or not to impart the terrible threat. They were so young, already struggling with the burdens of a manor and its poverty-stricken people. There was little Nicholas could do for his tenants. He had trouble enough supporting the men-at-arms, who kept marauding goblins from plundering what meager stores the people had remaining.
Michael looked at the young knight, the healer's eyes dimmed with tears. Nicholas should have been riding to tourneys in his shining armor, wearing the favors of his lady. He should have been winning renown in gallant contest, but the only contest this knight fought was an inglorious battle against hunger and deprivation. The only horse he rode was a plow horse. The healer closed his eyes and bowed his head.
He heard a rustle of skirts, felt gentle fingers on his hand.
'Brother Michael, are you in trouble with the Revered Son? It's all my fault. My tongue's sharper than my sword. I'll send a note of apology if you think it will help.' Michael opened his eyes, stared at her dumbly. As always, she took his breath away. His love for her and his longing, his admiration, pity, and compassion, surged inside him, tangled up his voice. Gently, he removed her hand from his, took a step away from her. She was the daughter of a knight; he, a cleric of the lowest standing, with no money to pay the temple to rise higher.
'Brother Michael, what is it? What's wrong? What did that man say to you?' Nicholas strode across the room.
Michael could not bear to look at either of them. He lowered his gaze to the floor. 'He threatens to send for the inquisitor, my lord.'
'If we don't give up the lands to the church?'
'Yes, my lord. I'm deeply sorry that one of my own kind — '
'Your kind!' Nikol cried. 'That man is not like you, Michael, not in the slightest I You work tirelessly among the people. You share our poverty. You take nothing, not even what rightfully belongs to you. Oh, I've seen you, Brother! I've seen you slip the salary we pay you for your services back into my purse when you think I'm not looking.'
She laughed at the foolish expression on his face, though there was a catch in her laughter, as if she might weep.
'M-my lady,' Michael stammered, face burning, 'you make too much of it. I need nothing. You feed me, house me. I — ' He could not go on.
'Come, Nikol,' said her brother briskly. 'You'll unman us all if you keep this up. And we have urgent matters to discuss. Will the high cleric make good his threat? Will he send this inquisitor?'
'I fear so,' said Michael reluctantly, though he was thankful to Nicholas for changing the subject. 'It has been done to others in the past.'
'Surely only to evil men,' protested Nikol, 'clerics of the Dark Queen, wizards, and those of their ilk. What have we to fear if they do send an inquisitor to us? We have always worshiped Paladine faithfully.'
'There used to be nothing for the faithful to fear, my lady,' said Michael. 'In the beginning, the Kingpriest truly meant to try to rid the world of darkness. He did not realize, however, that to banish darkness he would have to banish us all, for there is a touch of darkness in each of us. We are none of us perfect, not even the Kingpriest. Only by recognizing that darkness and constantly striving against it do we keep from being overwhelmed by it.'
Michael had his own darkness, or so he considered it. His love for this young woman was not pure, not holy, as he wanted it to be. It was tinged with burning desire. He wanted to take her in his arms, press his lips to hers. He wanted to undo her crown of hair and feel it cascade down around them both.
'I understand,' said Nikol softly. 'I long for a beautiful new dress. Isn't that terrible of me, when people are starving? Yet, I'm so tired of wearing this one poor gown.' Her hands smoothed the well-worn, oft-mended fabric. She sighed, turned to her brother. 'Maybe we are wrong, Nicholas. Maybe it is proud and sinful of us to want to keep these lands. Maybe we should give them to the church. After all, if it is the will of Paladine — '
'No,' said Nicholas firmly. 'I cannot believe it is Paladine's will. It is the will of the Kingpriest and his Revered Sons.'
'How can you be sure?'
'Because, my lady,' answered Michael steadily, 'the Kingpriest claims to know the minds of the gods. How can any mortal claim such a thing?'
'You serve Mishakal.'
'I follow the laws of the goddess. I obey her commands. I would never presume to speak for her, my lady.'
'But is it wrong to want to rid the world of evil?'
Michael hesitated before answering. This was a question he himself had long argued internally, and it was not easy to utter his innermost thoughts and feelings.
'How do you define evil, my lady? Too often, we define it as that which is different from ourselves, or that which we do not understand. You said before that we should rid the world of wizards, but it was a wizard, one Magius, who fought at the side of the great Huma and who was the knight's dearest friend.
'In the land of my birth, near Xak Tsaroth, there live a band of nomads called the Plainsmen. They are barbarians, according to the Kingpriest. Yet a more generous, loving people never lived. They worship all the gods, even the dark ones, who are supposedly banished from this world. When one of their people falls ill, for example, the Plainsmen pray to Mishakal for healing, but they pray also to Morgion, evil god of disease, to withdraw his foul hand.'
'What is their reasoning?' Nicholas's brow furrowed. 'Morgion, along with the Dark Queen, was driven from the world long ago.'
'Was he?' asked Michael gently. 'Have plagues and illness left the world? No. What do we say, then? We say that it is the unworthy who suffer. Was your mother unworthy?'
Brother and sister were silent, absorbing this thought. Then Nicholas frowned and stirred. 'What is your counsel, then, Brother Michael? Do we defy the Kingpriest? Think well before you answer.' The knight smiled wanly. 'As the one in charge of our spiritual guidance, you will be in as much danger from the inquisitor as my sister and I.'
Michael did not respond immediately. He rose to his feet, paced thoughtfully about the hall, hands clasped behind his back, as if again wondering what to say, how to say it.
Brother and sister drew near each other, held hands. At last, Michael turned to face them.
'Do nothing. Not yet. I… I cannot explain, but I have had strange dreams of late. Last night, Mishakal came to me as I slept. I saw her clearly. Her face was grieved, her eyes sad. She started to say something to me, to tell me something. She reached out her hand to me, but, at the last moment, she faded away. I will pray for her return tonight, pray that she will speak to me. And then, hopefully, I will be able to guide you.'
Nicholas looked relieved; the burden lifted, for a time, from his shoulders. Nikol smiled tremulously at
