the promises of those who would use them questioned every word the god had said. That elemental core of stubbornness dug in its heels and hunched its head obstinately against the force of Tomanak’s appeal, and, at last, he shook his head.
“No.” It took more strength than he’d ever suspected he had to get the word out, but he raised his eyes once more to the god’s face. “I’m not saying you’d lie to me, but it’s in my mind that I can’t
“It’s not much the world’s left my people, but this much we have; when we give our word, it means something, so I’ll not swear any oath before I’m sure in my own mind of what I’m doing.”
“Of course not,” Tomanak said quietly. “Nor would I ask you to. I ask only that you keep an open mind-that you
“And you’ll not plague my dreams in the meantime?” Bahzell demanded.
“No, I won’t ‘plague your dreams,’ ” Tomanak promised with a smile.
“Well, then.” Bahzell looked up at the towering War God and nodded briskly, and Tomanak’s smile grew even broader.
“Such a cavalier dismissal,” he murmured, and, for the third time, his laugh shook the earth beneath Bahzell’s feet. Then he faded from view-slowly, not with the suddenness of his sister’s departure in the cave-and his deep voice spoke silently in the back of Bahzell’s brain.
“Very well, I’ll go, Bahzell. But I’ll be back,” it said.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Incense drifted once more about Crown Prince Harnak, and he forced himself not to pace. It was hard. Harnak was always nervous when High Priest Tharnatus summoned him; even the Scorpion’s messengers could stumble and betray themselves-or Harnak. But this summons had been no less curt for the polite formulae in which it was couched, and the prince gnawed his lower lip with his remaining teeth while he waited.
A foot sounded behind him, and he turned quickly from the altar. He flushed at the evidence of his anxiety, but Tharnatus smiled.
“I thank you for coming so promptly, My Prince, especially on so bitter a night.”
Harnak simply nodded, though “bitter” was a weak word for the night beyond the temple. The snow had been belly-deep on his horse, and he’d passed two drifts high as a mounted man’s head. Only Tharnatus could have gotten him out on such a night, and the thought of how the priest must relish the power to do just that touched him with resentment.
Tharnatus’ eyes gleamed as if he’d read the prince’s thoughts, but he only waved for Harnak to sit in one of the front pews and folded his own hands in the sleeves of his robe as he faced him.
“I would not have requested your presence, My Prince, had the matter been less than urgent. I understand things remain . . . difficult at court?”
“You understand aright.” Harnak didn’t-quite-snarl, and Tharnatus smiled gently. “Those bitches are practically members of Bahnak’s own family by now, and he’s using the damned bards to keep the tale alive.” Harnak’s molars ground together. “Even my brothers have taken to laughing behind my back, curse them, and the winter only makes it worse! With so much time indoors and nothing to do but drink and listen to tales-”
He clenched his fists, and Tharnatus nodded in grave sympathy.
“I regret hearing that, My Prince-and even more that I must tell you the dog brothers have . . . encountered difficulties.”
“Difficulties?” Harnak’s head snapped up, and Tharnatus shrugged.
“The Guild has never been the most reliable of the Scorpion’s servants, My Prince. True, I believed they should have sufficed for this simple a task, but the Guild Master has written to inform me otherwise. To date, the dog brothers have lost upward of forty men trying to kill Bahzell.”
“
“In fairness to the dog brothers,” Tharnatus said gravely, “Bahzell seems to have had far more luck than he should have. Apparently he took service with an Axeman merchant as far as Morvan, and the other guards shielded him from the Guild’s initial attacks. He has left that protection since, yet he seems unusually difficult to track. Even the Scorpion’s lesser servants can find him only with difficulty in the wilderness, and the dog brothers seem able to find him only when he enters their net in a town or city. They almost had him twice in Morvan itself- once in a tavern where he was working as a bouncer-” Harnak’s eyes glowed, even in his disappointment, at the thought of Bahzell’s finding himself so reduced “-and again in an alley. Unfortunately, he survived both attacks, as well as a third in Angthyr. By now, he knows the Guild has marked him, which will only make him harder to kill. The Guild Master hasn’t abandoned all hope, but it seems we set them a more difficult task than we realized, My Prince.”
The priest’s voice trailed off suggestively. Harnak looked at him, but Tharnatus only looked back impassively.
“And?” the prince prompted harshly when he could stand the silence no longer, and Tharnatus surprised him. The priest pursed his lips and rocked slightly on his toes for several moments, then shrugged.
“There are more ways than the dog brothers to our goal, My Prince.”
“Such as?” Harnak made himself speak calmly, but disbelief and hope warred in him. Could it be after all that Tharnatus meant to suggest-?
“It seems Bahzell is more important than we guessed,” the priest said at last. “You need not know all of them- indeed, not even I know them all-but his death has become important to the Scorpion for many reasons. The entire Church has been mobilized against him, with all its resources, and we have the aid of certain servants of Carnadosa in this, as well.”
“We do?” Harnak sat back in astonishment. The dark churches seldom cooperated. That, little though any of them cared to admit it, was their greatest weakness; they, like their deities, were too jealous of their own power and individual strategies to join forces as their enemies did, and mutual suspicion worked against them when they did. What in Sharna’s name could make that whoreson Bahzell important enough to produce such cooperation?!
“We do,” Tharnatus confirmed calmly. “Yet we can count on little from them, at least for the immediate future, for their own power is even weaker than our own in the Empire of the Spear.”
“The Empire of the Spear?” Harnak blinked again. “
“I’m not certain, My Prince,” the priest admitted. “Something, I suspect, to do with the Carnadosans, since they’ve offered us their assistance, but not even they seem to know precisely where he is at the moment. The dog brothers have also lost track of him, I fear, though he must surface again somewhere. In the meantime, however, the time has come for us to make an end of him, and it is for that reason I requested you to visit me tonight.”
“What can I do?” Harnak’s earlier resentment had vanished at the thought of bringing Bahzell down once and for all, and Tharnatus smiled.
“The Scorpion has decided to commit a greater servant to the task.” His smile turned as hungry as Harnak’s, but there was fear in it, as well, and the prince understood why even before the priest continued. “Since Bahzell first transgressed against the Scorpion in Navahk, it is only fitting his death should come from here, and the great dark of the moon falls four nights hence. On that night, we shall summon one of the greater servants and bind it to Bahzell’s destruction, and we look to you to provide the sacrifice.”
“Of course,” Harnak said instantly. “Tell me what you require.”
“As this will be one of the more powerful of the greater servants, My Prince, the ritual requires a sacrifice of special value. I shall need a virgin of childbearing age, fit and strong. It would be best if she has been handfasted so that we may bind her betrothed through her, as well. Ah, and intelligence is important. Can you find such in the time we have?”
