Steven Erikson - Forge of Darkness

But the soldiers drawing up before them bore hard visages, and the corporal commanding them gestured with one hand back up the road, and then said, ‘There’s too many whores to feed as it is. Go back to where you came from. You’ll not find a single room in Neret Sorr, and the commander has rules forbidding your trade in our camp.’

Somehow, Syntara found the strength to simply smile. ‘Refreshingly direct, corporal. It is true: we have known the pleasures of many men. I am High Priestess Syntara, and these priestesses accompanying me are under my charge. I would speak with Commander Urusander, for I have news from the Citadel.’

The young man’s eyes studied her for a long moment, and then he nodded. ‘There was a rumour, I now recall. I see the paleness of your face beneath that hood, High Priestess. Very well, we shall escort you to the keep.’

‘Thank you, corporal. As you can see, our journey was made in haste and without the necessary amenities proper to the daughters of Mother Dark.’

‘We can summon a wagon if you do not mind waiting, High Priestess.’

‘Or, corporal, you and your troop can yield some room on your saddles, if the embrace of priestesses will not discomfort you too much.’

His brows lifted slightly, but he did not smile. A moment later, he edged his mount closer, kicked one foot from the stirrup, and then offered her a hand.

Syntara remained silent on the ride to the keep. She had given considerable thought to what she would say to Urusander, but in taking the measure of these common soldiers she could see that this was a troubled army, and that in turn was a reflection of those in command, and Urusander in particular. The soldiers had answered the summons, but now awaited orders, and none knew what those orders might be. Civil war exposed the flaws in a people, and though each faction would view its cause as just, the illness revealed was endemic, and so weakened everyone.

Urusander might well have recalled his soldiers in some misguided attempt to protect them. But then, protect them from what? Hunn Raal had unleashed renegade troops into the countryside. From themselves, then. If I am right in this, then I understand the tensions I see here. This civil war could see Legion soldier hunting Legion soldier.

But even that was not the end of the troubles. There could be Deniers among them. Or at the very least, sympathizers.

And what of me? What place will I take in what is to come? Is my fate for Urusander to decide? Shall I crawl into his presence? ‘Corporal.’

The gate was directly ahead. ‘High Priestess?’

‘I would hope I have opportunity to redress my travelled state before seeing the commander.’

‘I would expect so,’ he replied, ‘as he is very busy. Do not be offended, High Priestess, if your audience with him is delayed by a day or two. In the meantime, of course you will be given attendants to see to your needs.’

‘Very good,’ she replied. A day or two? She felt her face growing hot. ‘I feel I need to emphasize again the urgency of the news I bring from the Citadel.’

‘I will be sure to convey that, High Priestess.’

As it turned out, she was given no time at all in which to cleanse herself, as the keep’s castellan, a perfunctory man named Haradegar, assumed responsibility for her at the keep’s entrance and, after attaching a score of servants to her priestesses, led her into the keep for immediate audience with Lord Urusander. She assumed no tactical subterfuge in this haste; rather, it spoke to her of the commander’s respect for her title, and if he was witness to the evidence of her plight, then perhaps she could make use of that.

Haradegar guided her to a chamber with shelves lining the walls, on which rested countless books and scrolls. One long table commanded the room, consuming most of the floor space. There were two well-made comfortable chairs, and one was in ruins.

After the castellan departed, she stood contemplating sitting down in the surviving chair. A moment later, Urusander arrived. ‘High Priestess, I have heard of what has befallen you. But still, I must ask: what are you doing here?’

Syntara would not beg. In Urusander, she saw a man under siege. She well understood the ambitions of those behind him. Men like Hunn Raal dreamed of their commander standing beside Mother Dark, as husband to the goddess. Once she and he were past the first moments of awkwardness between them on that day of her arrival, she said as much to Urusander, when they stood in this very room. ‘Lord, alone you have nothing to withstand her, and yet you must — but not as her enemy. Rather, present yourself as her one hope for peace. With my help, Lord, you can save Kurald Galain.’

He had moved past her then, only to turn and face her once more. ‘You must know her mind, High Priestess, as much as anyone can. What fate awaits Lord Draconus?’

‘Lord, she took a consort because she knows no man is her equal. Indeed, in her solitude, she seeks to protect everyone else. As it stands, any union with her will be unbalanced. This is what needs to change.’

He looked away. ‘I have the Legion.’

Syntara drew back her hood and shook her head. ‘Will you pour a husband’s love into a darkness without end, into a realm defying your touch, refusing the blessing of your eyes? Will you give your love to an unknown?’

He cursed her questions, but not for the reasons that she might have expected. ‘All this talk of marriage! Have I been consulted? Has Mother Dark? And now you speak of love?’

‘Lord, forgive me. I was led to believe… otherwise. As you say, worship is not the same as love.’

‘You have the truth of that,’ he snapped.

She had studied him then, seeing a man who had unconsciously backed to one corner of the chamber, his hands restless and reaching out as if to take up a scroll on the nearest shelf, or a book, only to draw away again. She wondered where was the hero he had once been? What reasons remained for this fanatical loyalty surrounding him? Vatha Urusander was forgetting who he was, and all that had elevated him in the eyes of others was behind him now — and he well knew it. She decided that she would have to adjust her strategy, and indeed make herself more open to this man before her. ‘Let us set aside notions of love, then, and speak of politics. You have announced the return of the Legion, Lord. The highborn cannot but see that as a belligerent act.’

‘I am told of religious uprising against Mother Dark.’

‘Do not believe the fear-mongering, Lord. The river god poses no real threat, barring how that cult clouds the way ahead.’ Seeing his frown she said, ‘I will explain. All this time, while you remained here in this keep, the highborn have been preparing against Lord Draconus. They oppose his growing power. When Mother Dark proclaimed the House of Purake as her First Children, the other nobles were much relieved. Even as they had each vied for that position, Lord Nimander and his three sons were one and all highborn and so confirmed the status of every Greater House. Indeed, it was thought that Lord Nimander would one day wed Mother Dark.’

Urusander was studying her, and she saw by his expression that he was unaware of the details she was telling him.

‘But Nimander died, and he died badly. There was even talk that Draconus was behind it. Much as I dislike the Consort, I do not share that belief. My point is this, Lord Urusander. The highborn are ready for war. Their Houseblades but await the command. For now, they cannot act against Draconus because he has done nothing overt. Though they do not know it, he refuses the throne beside Mother Dark’s — no, do not look so shocked. I was her High Priestess. She invited him and he refused her.’

‘If this was to be made known to the highborn, their fear of him-’