Domes of Fire

‘Well, now,’ Ortzel said, ‘I’d say that some bargaining might be in order here. How many acts of contrition would the two of you be willing to give our Holy Mother in exchange for the rest of the story?’

‘Ortzel,’ Dolmant reproved him.

The Patriarch of Kadach held up one hand. ‘It’s a perfectly legitimate exchange, Sarathi,’ he said. ‘The Church has used it many times in the past. When I was a simple country pastor, I used this exact method to ensure regular attendance at services. My congregation was known far and wide for its piety – until I ran out of stories.’ Then he laughed. They were all a bit startled at that. Most of them were fairly sure that the stern, unbending Patriarch of Kadach didn’t even know how. ‘I was only teasing,’ he told the young thief and the gigantic Thalesian. ‘I wouldn’t be too disappointed, however, if the two of you gave the condition of your souls some serious thought.’

‘Tell the story,’ Mirtai insisted. Mirtai was also a warrior, and also, it appeared, susceptible to a stirring tale.

‘Do I sense the possibility of a convert here?’ Ortzel asked her.

‘What you’re sensing is the possibility of failing health, Ortzel,’ she said bluntly. Mirtai never used titles when she spoke to people.

‘All right then,’ Ortzel laughed again and continued with his translation.

‘Hearken then, O men of Lamorkland, and hear how Starkad was paid. Some tears then shed he over his fallen brother, then turned he his raging wrath upon the Peloi, and they fled screaming from him. Straightway left he the strife-place and journeyed even to the Holy City of Chyrellos, there to advise the princes of the Church that their design was done. And when they had gathered all in the Basilica which is the crown of their o’erweening pride, recounted Starkad the sad tale of the fall of Drychtnath, mightiest hero of yore.

‘And gloated then the soft and pampered princes of the Church at the hero’s fall, thinking that their pride and power and position were safe, and spake they each in praise of Starkad and offered him good gold beyond measure for the deed he had done.

‘Cold, however, was the hero’s heart, and he looked upon the little men he had served, recalling with tears the great man he had slain at their bidding. “Lordlings of the Church,” quotha then. “Think ye that mere gold will satisfy me as payment for what I have done in your behalf?”

‘“But what else may we offer thee?” they asked in great perplexity.

‘“I would have Drychtnath’s forgiveness,” quoth Starkad.

‘“But that we may not obtain for thee,” they said unto him, “for dreaded Drychtnath lieth low in the House of the Dead from whence no man returneth. Pray, mighty hero, tell us what else we may offer thee in recompense for this great service thou hast provided us.”

‘“But one thing,” quoth Starkad in deadly earnest.

‘“And that is what?” they asked.

‘“Your heart’s blood,” quoth Starkad. And, so saying, sprang he to the massy door and chained it shut with chains of steel that none might escape him. Then drew he forth Hlorithn, Dread Drychtnath’s bright blade, which he had brought with him to Chyrellos for just this purpose. And then took the hero Starkad his payment for the deed he had done on the plains of the Peloi.

‘And when he had finished collecting that which was owed him, the Church of Chyrellos lay headless, for not one of her princes saw the setting of the sun that day, and sorrowing still that he had slain his friend, Starkad sadly took his leave of the Holy City and never returned there more.

‘But it is said in dark-forested Lamorkland that the oracles and the auguries speak still of the mighty Drychtnath and of the day when the War-God Hrokka will relent and release the spirit of Drychtnath from his service as one of the Immortal Thanes in the Hall of Heroes that he may come once more to Lamorkland to take up again that grand design. Then how the blood will flow, and then how the kings of the world will tremble as once again the world shakes beneath the mighty stride of Dread Drychtnath the Destroyer, and the crown and throne of the world shall lie in his immortal grip, as was from the beginning intended.’ Ortzel’s voice fell silent, indicating that he had reached the end.

‘That’s all?’ Talen protested vehemently.

‘I skipped over a great number of passages,’ Ortzel conceded, ‘battle descriptions and the like. The Lamorks of antiquity had an unhealthy fascination with certain kinds of numbers. They wanted to know how many barrels of blood, pounds of brains and yards of entrails were spilled out during the festivities.’

‘But the story doesn’t end right,’ Talen complained. ‘Drychtnath was the hero, but after Starkad murdered him, he turned into the hero. That isn’t right. The bad people shouldn’t be allowed to change over like that.’

‘That’s a very interesting argument, Talen – particularly coming from you.’

‘I’m not a bad person, your Grace, I’m just a thief. It’s not the same at all. At least the churchmen all got what was coming to them.’

‘You have a long way to go with this one, Sparhawk,’ Bevier observed. ‘We all loved Kurik like a brother, but are we really sure that his son has the makings of a Church Knight in him?’

‘I’m working on that,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘So that’s what Drychtnath’s all about. Just how deeply do the commons in Lamorkand believe in the story, your Grace?’

‘It goes deeper than belief, Sparhawk,’ Ortzel replied. ‘The story’s in our blood. I’m wholly committed to the Church, but when I hear The Drychtnathasaga, I become an absolute pagan – for a while at least.’

‘Well,’ Tynian said, ‘now we know what we’re up against. We have the same thing going on in Lamorkand as we have in Rendor. We’ve got heresies springing up all around us. It still doesn’t solve our problem, though. How are Sparhawk and the rest of us going to be able to go to Tamuli without insulting the emperor?’

‘I’ve solved that problem already, Tynian,’ Ehlana told him.

‘I beg your Majesty’s pardon?’

‘It’s so simple that I’m almost ashamed of you all that you didn’t think of it first.’

‘Enlighten us, your Majesty,’ Stragen said. ‘Make us blush for our stupidity.’

‘It’s time for the western Elene Kingdoms to open communications with the Tamul Empire,’ she explained. ‘We are neighbours, after all. It’s politically very sound for me to make a state visit to Matherion, and if you gentlemen are all very nice to me, I’ll invite you to come along.’ She frowned. ‘That was the least of our problems. Now we’ll have to address something far more serious.’