David Drake - The Gods Return

"how do I find Gorand and rouse him? Please." The Tree had said that Cashel couldn't learn to fight the Worm. Cashel wasn't sure that was true, but that didn't matter if there was another way to get rid of the creature. If the Tree said to rouse Gorand, that meant it thought they could do it. All they needed now was to learn how. There was no point saying that Gorand was long dead. The Tree knew that, hadtold them that. "There is a stele in front of the Office of the Priests," the Tree said. "On the reverse of the stele are carved directions to reach Gorand. But I cannot tell you how to convince Gorand to return to help you, Cashel son of Mab. The people of this world repaid Gorand with evil for his good, and the people of Dariada worst of all. Gorand was a citizen of Dariada, and they treated him ill." "I'm sorry for that, sir," Cashel said. "A man like you say Gorand is, though, he won't let that keep him from doing what he needs to do." Sure, there were people who'd cheat and do all manner of low things to the folks who helped them; it'd happened to Cashel and he'd seen it happen to others. But you couldn't hold it against everybody. "Do you think so, Cashel?" the Tree said. Cashel thought it might laugh again, but instead there was something else in the tone that he couldn't place.

"That's for you to convince him, then." The eyes of the wooden face closed; the mouth settled back into grim silence. Cashel stepped off the slab. Liane's face worked with frustration and a touch of anger that she was trying to conceal. "The stele's worn smooth!" she said.

"Any information there was lost ages ago. Perhaps-" She looked from the pod to Amineus. "-we can speak to the oracle again?" "Milady," said the priest, "you're welcome to speak to the Tree as much as you wish. But as you saw, the Tree was unwilling to answer you even once."

"It's all right, Liane," Cashel said. He stretched with the quarterstaff, but he didn't spin it as he might've done in another place. There was room here, but it didn't seem, well, respectful. "He knew what he was doing. The Tree did, I mean. We'll go look at this stele. You think he meant the slab out in front of the door here?"

"Yes, of course," said Liane sharply. That wasn't like her, but she wasn't used to being off on her own this way. By now, Cashel was.

"That's a stele, the stele. And I did look at it. The image on the obverse is clear, but the legend on the reverse has been completely worn away." The priest was watching. He seemed even more worried than before. He probably hoped the three of them were marvels who never doubted what to do next. Seeing that they were human after all put him right back where he'd been before they came, frightened and despairing. "Warrior Cashel is correct," Rasile said calmly. "We must trust the oracle." She dipped her head to Amineus. "Thank you, wise one," she said. "We will examine the stone outside your gate again. I think we will find that the stone is not as blank to a wizard as it might be to a layman-" Her tongue wagged toward Liane. "-no matter how wise that layman is." Liane's face went hard for an instant; then she stepped forward with her arms spread, managing to sort-of hug both Cashel and Rasile. "Thank the Lady!" she said. Cashel figured they could all agree with that. *** "Ah, your highness…," said Lord Tadai, looking around the room in which Sharina had told him to meet her. "Wouldn't we be more comfortable discussing this religious problem, ah, elsewhere?"

No, I wouldn't, Sharina thought grimly. Obviously. They were in the little chamber off the bedroom of her suite, intended for the maid or manservant who'd normally be attending a noble at night. There was only room for a cot, a wash stand with a chest of ease beneath it, and ordinarily a rack holding additional sheets and blankets for the main bedroom. Sharina'd had the rack replaced by the chair in which she now sat; a cloak hung over the back of it. She gestured Tadai to one end of the cot and said, "We won't be here long, milord," she said.

"There'll be a one more-ah, here he is. Master Dysart, close the door behind you, if you will." Liane's deputy seemed more like a coney than a mouse: plump, soft and timid. That can't have been true-well, he was plump enough-but nonetheless Sharina felt a pang at Liane's absence.

Even though Dysart had to be competent to hold his position, she still missed her friend's presence and advice. "Before we proceed to the matter of Scorpion worship…," Sharina said. Dysart was still standing, though he'd pulled the door to. It was very quickly going to become close in this small chamber with three people and the flames of a two-wick oil lamp. "Please sit, Master Dysart," Sharina snapped, gesturing to the other end of the bed. She had no right to be irritated with the man for being afraid to do the obvious without permission, but the night's business had disturbed her. She cleared her throat. "There's another matter you need to know as my closest advisors," she said. "Master Burne, you may come out now. Master Burne helped me-" The rat squirmed from behind a fold of the cloak. He rose to his hind legs, bowed, and hopped to Sharina's lap. Both men kept blank expressions, but Lord Tadai had stiffened to leap up before he caught himself. "A new pet, your highness?" he said in a neutral voice. "Not exactly, milord," said Burne. "Though it's probably better if most people think that's what I am. Otherwise they'll start whispering that the princess is a wizard herself, you know, and there's no telling where that will end." "By the Lady," Tadai said quietly. "Master Dysart, do you have any comment?" Sharina asked, raising one eyebrow. "I defer to your highness' judgment," the spymaster said. He didn't shrug, but there was a shrug in his tone.

"If I might suggest one thing?" "Just speak, Master Dysart," Sharina said, her voice again sharper than she'd intended. "We all want to get out of this closet as soon as we can." "Yes, your highness," Dysart said, making a seated bow. "A gold chain or the like around the… around Master Burne's neck might be useful to prevent an accident with your guards or the palace staff." Sharina looked at the rat. "Oh, he's right, I know that," Burne said disgustedly. "You wouldn't believe the prejudice-" He paused and wrinkled his whiskers. "Well, you probably would," he said. "And to tell the truth, I find my fellow rats a rather unsavory crew-though there are rough diamonds among them, I assure you, gentlemen. Still, I think a ribbon will be satisfactory, don't you? Because chains chafe my fur. Yes, a nice ribbon of bleached linen will do admirably." "Now that we've seen Master Burne," said Tadai with a flick of his perfect manicure, "perhaps we can remove to more a comfortable meeting place, your highness?" "We're here because I'm afraid of being overheard," Sharina said, "by scorpions. There are suddenly a lot of scorpions in Pandah-" "Yes indeed," said Tadai. He might not have interrupted Princess Sharina at a formal council meeting, but she'd noticed that the prefect had a tendency, despite his formal politeness, to disregard things that a woman said. "That's why I requested a meeting, your highness. The infestation of scorpions in concert with the new worship, that is." "City Prefect Tadai,"

Sharina said in clipped syllables. "Will you pleaselisten to me?"

Tadai's face became very still. "Your highness," he murmured, dipping his head. "Burne believes that the scorpions are communicating with one another," Sharina resumed. "Ordinarily if I wanted to speak to you without being overheard I'd go out in the middle of a park, but we couldn't possibly avoid such small eavesdroppers there. It should be possible to keep this room clear for the time we'll be here." "Iknow they talk to each other," the rat said. "It's arm signals, a regular little semaphore with their pincers, and they can see each other in what's the dark to you or me. Now, though, they're saying more than the usual, 'This is my patch,' or 'I'm too big for you to eat.'" He shook his head in disgust. "I'd say that scorpions didn't have any more society than a pile of rocks does," he said, "but at least rocks don't eat each other." "Are you saying that scorpions are intelligent, Master Burne?" Dysart said. He carried a document file of heavy black leather, much like Liane's collapsible travelling desk. Unlike his mistress, he kept the case locked while he was in conference. "Them?"