"It will be difficult, my love, for our strength will slowly wane. Death may take time to claim us."
"How much time?"
"A ten-day at least, but no more than two. Do you still think this is better than dying in the hut?"
"I do," he replied, "but not for the reason you might think."
"Go on," she urged.
"Had you died in there, I would have taken vengeance, but Zahruhl, or Voruhn, would not allow me a clean death, that much is clear."
"And how is that better?"
"I could not let you journey to the Afterlife alone. I would be by your side, even in death."
She smiled despite the discomfort. "Then we shall take this last trip together, as it should be."
The Master
Autumn 1104 SR
Athgar sipped his drink, taking in the occupants of the room.
"Nervous?" asked Natalia.
"With all these Cunars about? You'd better believe it. And what about Master Talivardas? How in the Continent did he end up in charge of the order?"
"He's the regional master, not the grand master."
"What's the difference?"
"The grand master oversees the entire order," she said, "whereas a regional master only looks after one region. In this case, the northeast area of the Continent. In rank, he's still only a commander."
"That doesn't make me feel any better," said Athgar. "Do you think he's the one who called for the crusade?"
"No, he doesn't have the authority."
"Then who does?"
Natalia gave it some thought before answering. "The Primus is the usual culprit."
"And he is?"
"Do you know nothing of the Church?"
Athgar pointed at himself. "Old Gods, remember?"
She smiled. "Each of the six orders sends a representative to something called the Council of Peers. From their number, they elect a single representative to lead them, and he's referred to as the Primus. He's also the ultimate power behind the Church."
"And no one else could order a crusade?"
"I suppose the grand master of the order could."
"Which do you think is more likely in this case?"
She looked around the room. "I'd say the grand master. Look around you. Aside from Brother Rickard, we have seen little of any orders other than the Cunars. If the Primus had ordered it, we'd see a more noticeable presence of the others."
Athgar glanced around, ensuring no one could overhear. "How long do you suppose the master's been a Stormwind?"
"You saw his ring; he's powerful. He would have been trained at the Volstrum long before he took service with the order."
"How long does it take to rise to the position of a regional master?"
"Decades," Natalia replied, "but I doubt he did it without help."
"Meaning?"
"The family is not above using murder. We know that from first-hand experience. I imagine other candidates either died or withdrew from consideration, likely the result of applied pressure."
"What kind of pressure could you exert against a Temple Knight?"
"Remember Corassus?" she said. "Brother Cyric indicated many of the Cunar knights didn't follow the rules regarding celibacy. That kind of information could prove harmful when it came to promotions."
"And so Talivardas fought his way to the top?” mused Athgar.
"Not quite. He still has a grand master to contend with."
"Do you think the grand master is a member of the family as well?"
"I doubt it, but then again, I wouldn't have thought it possible for a regional master of the order to be one."
"So where does that leave us?"
"It doesn't change our priorities," she replied. "We came here to find out more about the army—that still stands. This extra information complicates matters, but we must put it aside for the time being. We have more important work to do."
"Agreed. Let's see if we can't find an office to break into. It worked in Caerhaven; maybe it'll work here?"
"It's worth a try."
Making their way through the crowd, they stopped from time to time to listen in on conversations, trying hard not to be noticed. They picked a route that would take them to the stairs, believing anything of interest might lie on the top floor, but as they were about to take the first step, Athgar suddenly stopped.
"What is it?" asked Natalia.
"That guard," he said, "he's a Therengian. Look at his eyes."
Natalia noticed the man in question. He was dressed in the livery of Duke Heinrich, a common foot soldier by the look of him. He was wearing a conical helm, complete with a nose guard, but there was no mistaking the colour of his eyes.
"Can others not have grey eyes?" she asked.
"It is the mark of my people," said Athgar. "A dominant trait handed down through succeeding generations, and yet he is not dressed like a Therengian. How can this be?"
"Your people were subjugated, likely many chose to live amongst their conquerors. That man looks to be a descendant of your forbearers."
"Is such a thing even possible?"
"You forget, Therengia was a large realm, taking up almost a third of the area of the Petty Kingdoms. That many people don't simply disappear."
"I suppose that makes sense, but I always thought they were relegated to villages like Athelwald. It appears the Continent is full of surprises."
He turned his attention back to the stairs, but a pair of Temple Knights had moved to block them.
"Is there a problem?" asked Natalia.
"Guests are not allowed," the knight responded.
"Very well," she replied, taking Athgar's arm and pulling him back into the crowd. She lowered her voice. "It appears we have garnered some interest. Those guards are watching us."
"Then we shall avoid doing anything to bring further attention to ourselves."
Natalia squeezed his arm. "See that man over there? The one in the green surcoat?"
"What of him?"
"He's a Ragnarite," she said, "a Temple Knight of Saint Ragnar."
"Remind me what that means?"
"They hunt Necromancers."
"It makes sense," said Athgar, "doesn't it? Brother Rickard indicated the Church believes we're all death worshippers."
"Yes," she agreed, "and that makes our Ragnarite the most dangerous man in the room."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"Ragnarites often work alone. As such, they are the most proficient warriors when it comes to one-on-one
