‘That’s Krager, all right,’ Kalten noted.
‘What exactly did Zalasta offer you, Kolata?’ Oscagne asked the prisoner.
‘Power, wealth – the usual. You’re a minister of the government, Oscagne. You know the game and the stakes we play for. We all thought that the Emperor was no more than a figurehead, well meaning, a little vague, and not really very well informed – sorry, your Majesty, but that’s what we all believed.’
‘Thank you,’ Sarabian replied. ‘That’s what you were supposed to think. What really baffles me, though, is the fact that you all overlooked the fact that the Atans are loyal to me personally. Didn’t any of you take that into consideration?’
‘We underestimated your Majesty. We didn’t think you grasped the full implications of that. If we’d thought for a moment that you really understood how much power you had, we’d have killed you.’
‘I rather thought you might have. That’s why I played the simpleton.’
‘Did Zalasta tell you who was really behind all of this?’ Oscagne asked.
‘He pretended that he was speaking for Cyrgon,’ Kolata replied. ‘We didn’t take that too seriously, though. Styrics are peculiar people. They always try to make us believe that they represent a higher power of some kind. They never seem to want to accept full responsibility. So far as I know, however, it was Zalasta’s scheme.’
‘I think that maybe it’s time for us to hear from Zalasta himself,’ Vanion said.
‘Have you got him hidden up your sleeve, Vanion?’ Ehlana asked.
‘In a manner of speaking, your Majesty. Kalten, why don’t you take the Minister of the Interior back to his room? He looks a little tired.’
‘I still have questions, Lord Vanion,’ Oscagne protested.
‘We’ll get you your answers, old boy,’ Itagne assured him, ‘quicker and in much greater detail. You plod, Oscagne. It’s one of your failings. We’re just going to hurry things along.’
Vanion waited until Kalten and Ulath had removed Kolata from the room. ‘We’ve told you all in a general sort of way that Xanetia knows what other people are thinking. This isn’t just some vague notion about feelings or moods. If she chooses, she can repeat your thoughts word for word. Most of you probably have some doubts about that, so in the interests of saving time, why don’t we have her demonstrate? Would you tell us what Queen Ehlana’s thinking right now, Anarae?’
‘An it please thee, Lord Vanion,’ the Delphaeic woman replied. ‘Her Majesty is enjoying herself very much at the moment. She is, however, discontent with thee for thine interruption. She is pleased with the progress of Emperor Sarabian, thinking it might now be reasonable to expect some small measure of competence from him. She hath, as well, certain designs of an intimate nature upon her husband, for political activity doth ever stir that side of her personality.’
Ehlana’s face turned bright red. ‘You stop that at once!’ she exclaimed.
‘I’m sorry, your Majesty,’ Vanion apologized. ‘I didn’t anticipate that last bit. Did Xanetia more or less read your thoughts correctly?’
‘You know I won’t answer that, Vanion.’ The queen’s face was still flaming.
‘Will you at least concede that she has access to the thoughts of others?’
‘I’d heard about that,’ Sarabian mused. ‘I thought it was just another of the wild stories we hear about the Delphae.’
‘Bhelliom confirmed it, Emperor Sarabian,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘Xanetia can read others the way you’d read an open book. I’d imagine that she’s read Zalasta from cover to cover. She should be able to tell us everything we want to know.’ He looked at Xanetia. ‘Could you give us a sort of summary of Zalasta’s life, Anarae?’ he asked her. ‘Sephrenia in particular is deeply saddened by what he revealed in the throne-room. Maybe if she knows the reason for his actions, she’ll find them easier to understand.’
‘I can speak for myself, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia told him tartly.
‘I’m sure you can, little mother. I was just serving as an intermediary. You and Xanetia don’t get on too well.’
‘What’s this?’ Sarabian asked quickly.
‘An ancient enmity, your Majesty,’ Xanetia explained. ‘So ancient, in truth, that none living knoweth its source.’
‘I know,’ Sephrenia grated at her, ‘and it’s not as ancient as all that.’
‘Perhaps, but hearken unto the mind of Zalasta, and judge for thyself, Sephrenia of Ylara.’
Kalten and Ulath returned and quietly took their seats again.
‘Zalasta was born some few centuries ago in the Styric village of Ylara, which lay in the forest near Cenae in northern Astel,’ Xanetia began. ‘In his seventh year was there born also in that self-same village she whom we now know as Sephrenia, one of the Thousand of Styricum, tutor to the Pandion Knights in the secrets of Styricum, Councillor of Elenia and beloved of Preceptor Vanion.’
‘That’s no longer true,’ Sephrenia said shortly.
‘I spoke of Lord Vanion’s feelings for thee, Sephrenia, not of thine for him. Zalasta’s family was on friendly terms with Sephrenia’s, and they did conclude between them that when Sephrenia and Zalasta should reach a suitable age, they would be wed.’
‘I’d forgotten about that,’ Sephrenia said suddenly. ‘I’ve never really thought of him that way.’
‘It hath been the central fact of his life, however, I do assure thee. When thou wert in thy ninth year didst thy mother conceive, and the child she bore was in truth Aphrael, Child Goddess of Styricum, and in the instant of her birth did Zalasta’s hopes and dreams turn to dust and ashes, for thy life was forever given over entirely to thine infant sister. Zalasta’s wrath knew no bounds, and he did hide himself in the forest, lest his countenance betray his innermost thoughts. Much he traveled, seeking out the most powerful magicians of Styricum, even, at peril of his soul, those outcast and accursed. His search had but one aim, to discover some means whereby a man might overthrow and destroy a God; for his despair drove him to an unreasoning hatred of the Child Goddess; and, more than anything, he sought her death.’
Princess Danae gasped aloud.
‘You’re supposed to be listening,’ her mother said.
‘I was startled, mother.’
‘You must never show that. Always keep your emotions under control.’
‘Yes, mother.’
‘It was in the sixth year of the life of the Child Goddess – in that particular incarnation – that Zalasta, in a frenzy of frustration, since all with whom he had spoken had told him that his goal was beyond human capability, turned to more direct means. Hoping perhaps that the Child Goddess might be caught unawares or that by reason of her tender years might she not yet have come into her full powers, conceived he a reckless plan, an attempt to o’erwhelm her with sheer numbers. Though the Goddess herself is immortal, thought he that mayhap might her incarnation be slain, forcing her to seek another vessel for her awareness.’
‘Would that work?’ Kalten asked Sparhawk.
‘How should I know?’ Sparhawk threw a guarded glance at his daughter.
Danae very casually shook her head.
‘In furtherance of his hasty and ill-conceived scheme did Zalasta assume the guise of an Elene clergyman and did visit the rude villages of the serfs of that region and did denounce the Styrics of his own village, describing them as idolaters and demon-worshipers, whose foul rites demanded the blood of Elene virgins. So hotly did he inflame them with his false reports that on a certain day did the ignorant serfs gather, and swept they down upon that innocent Styric village, slaughtering all and putting their houses to the torch.’
‘But that was Sephrenia’s home, too!’ Ehlana exclaimed. ‘How could he be sure that she wouldn’t be killed as well?’
‘He was beyond caring, Queen of Elenia. Indeed, it was his thought that better far should she die than that Aphrael should have her. Better a grief that would pass than endless unsatisfied longing. But as it came to pass, the Child Goddess had besought her sister that very morning that they two should go into the forest to gather wild flowers, and thus it was that they were not there when the Elene serfs fell upon the village.’
‘Zalasta told me the story once,’ Sparhawk interrupted. ‘He said that he was with Sephrenia and Aphrael in the forest.’
‘Nay, Anakha. He was at the village, directing the search for the two.’
‘Why would he lie about something like that?’
‘Mayhap he doth lie even to himself. His acts that day were monstrous, and it is in our nature to obscure such behavior from ourselves.’
‘Maybe that’s it,’ he conceded.
‘Ye may well perceive the depths of Zalasta’s hatred and despair when thou knowest that his own kindred perished there,’ Xanetia continued. ‘Yea, his father and his mother and sisters three fell beneath the cudgels and scythes of the ravening beasts he had unleashed even as he looked on.’
‘I don’t believe you!’ Sephrenia burst out.
‘Bhelliom can confirm my truth, Sephrenia,’ Xanetia replied calmly, ‘and if I have broken faith by lying, Sir Kalten stands ready to spill out my life. Put me to the test, sister.’
‘He told us that the serfs had been inflamed against our village by your people – by the Delphae!’
‘He lied unto thee, Sephrenia. Great was his chagrin when he discovered that Aphrael – and thou – didst still live. Seizing upon the first thought which came to him, did he shift his own guilt to my kindred, knowing that thou wouldst surely believe the worst of those whom thou wert already predisposed to hate. He hath deceived thee since childhood, Sephrenia of Ylara, and would deceive thee still, had not Anakha forced him to reveal his true self.’
‘That’s why you hate the Delphae, isn’t it, Sephrenia?’ Ehlana asked shrewdly. ‘You thought that they were the ones responsible for the murder of your parents.’
‘And Zalasta, ever striving to conceal his own guilt, lost no opportunity to remind her of that lie,’ Xanetia said. ‘In truth hath he poisoned her thoughts against the Delphae for centuries, filling her heart with hatred, lest she question him concerning his own involvement.’
Sephrenia’s face twisted, and she bowed her head, buried her face in her hands, and began to weep.
Xanetia sighed. ‘The truth hath made her grief all new. She weeps for her parents, dead these many centuries.’ She looked at Alean. ‘Take her somewhat apart, gentle child, and comfort her. She hath much need of the ministrations of women presently. The storm of her weeping will soon pass, and then woe unto Zalasta should he ever fall into her hands.’
‘Or mine,’ Vanion added bleakly.
‘Boiling oil is good, my Lord,’ Kalten suggested. ‘Cook him while he’s still alive.’
‘Hooks are good, too,’ Ulath added. ‘Long ones with nice sharp barbs on them.’
‘Must you?’ Sarabian said with a shudder.
‘Zalasta hurt Sephrenia, your Majesty,’ Kalten told him. ‘There are twenty-five thousand Pandion Knights – and quite a few knights from the other orders as well – who are going to take that very personally. Zalasta can pull mountain ranges over his head to try to hide, but we’ll still find him. The Church Knights aren’t really very civilized, and when somebody hurts those we love, it brings out the worst in us.’
‘Well said,’ Sparhawk murmured.
‘We’re getting afield here, gentlemen,’ Ehlana reminded them. ‘We’ll decide Zalasta’s punishment after we catch him. When did he become involved in this current business, Xanetia? Is he really allied with Cyrgon?’
‘The alliance was of Zalasta’s devising, Queen of Elenia. His failure in the forest of Astel and his own guilt arising therefrom did plunge him into deepest despair and blackest melancholy. He roamed the world, losing himself at times in vilest debauchery and at times dwelling alone and hermit-like in the wildernesses of this world for decades on end. He sought out every Styric magician of reputation – good or ill – and gleaned from them all of the secrets. In truth, of all the Styrics who have ever lived in the forty eons of the history of their race, Zalasta is pre-eminent. But knowledge alone consoled him not. Aphrael lived still, and Sephrenia was ever bound to her.
‘But the knowledge of Zalasta, which is beyond measure, did suggest to him a means by which he might break those bonds. At the dawn of time in far Thalesia had the Troll-dwarf Ghwerig wrought Bhelliom, and Zalasta knew that with Bhelliom’s aid might he gain his heart’s desire.
‘Then came the birth of Anakha, signaling that Bhelliom itself would soon emerge from the place where it had lain hidden, and by signs and oracles and diverse other means did outcast Styrics perceive his birth, and counseled they Zalasta, instructing him to journey straightway to Eosia to observe Anakha throughout his childhood and youth that he might know him better, for it was the hope of Zalasta that in the day that Anakha did bring the flower-gem to light, might he wrest it from him and thereby gain the means to prevail over the Child Goddess. But on the day when the ring did come into Anakha’s possession by means of inheritance, did Zalasta perceive his error. Well had the Troll-Gods wrought when they guided Ghwerig in the carving of the Sapphire Rose. Man is capricious and inconstant, and covetousness doth ever lurk in his heart, and Trolls are but reflections of the worst in men. Thus did the Troll-Gods make the rings the key to Bhelliom, lest any or all have power to command it. Thus did Aphrael disarm Ghwerig by stealing the rings, and thus did she scatter the power of the jewel that no mortal might command it. Thinking that their own power was absolute, the Troll-Gods had no interest in the flower-gem, and distrustful each of the others, they laid enchantments upon the stone to ensure that no one of them might take up Bhelliom unless all did. Only in concert might they command it, and they contrived it so that they, as Gods acting in concert, could command Bhelliom without the rings.’ She paused, reflecting, Sparhawk thought, on the peculiarities of the Troll-Gods.
‘Now truly,’ she went on, ‘the Troll-Gods are elementals, each so limited that his mind may in no wise be considered whole and complete. Only when united, which doth rarely happen, can they, by combination, achieve that wholeness we see in the merest human child. For the other Gods, however, it is not so. The mind of Azash was whole and complete, despite his maiming, and in his wholeness had he the power to command Bhelliom without the rings. This then was the peril which did confront thee, Anakha, when thou didst journey to Zemoch to meet with him. Had Azash wrested Bhelliom from thee, he could have compelled it to join its will and its power with his.’