ian shook his head. "I am, after all, a fallen Seeker priest. That will weigh heavily with them, I'm afraid. How heav shy;ily, we can only wait and see. Over the years, Ancilla and I grew accustomed to defeat when reason predicted suc shy;cess."
Mynx turned her attention elsewhere. She stroked the armor that Tarscenian had bartered for her before they'd left Solace. It was missing a few pieces, but the pieces that were there matched each other-and fit her perfectly.
"Tarscenian," Mynx said suddenly as she and the swordsman rode on through the late afternoon sunshine. "Hederick and Ancilla were brother and sister. Why were they so different? How could anyone be so evil as Heder shy;ick?"
Tarscenian raised one eyebrow. "He believes he is good. What he has never understood is that some of the greatest harm in the world has been done by people convinced that they, too, were doing good."
"Nonetheless…"
"Nonetheless, Mynx, you are right. Hederick has caused great suffering, as you have said." Tarscenian frowned and gazed at the pommel of his saddle while he sorted out his thoughts.
"At some point in people's lives," the old man finally said slowly, "if they live well, they have to take stock of what is true and what is illusion. They must do this hon shy;estly. Once they have gazed at what is darkest within their beings, they must move resolutely on-casting off the shadow of illusion and living as best they can in the light of what they have learned to be true. This takes great courage. I'm afraid Hederick was never brave or honest enough to do that, Mynx."
"And you have done this?"
"I did it in a tiny village called Garlund, on the prairie just west of the Garnet Mountains. And I have done it daily since then."
I'm not sure I understand this, Tarscenian." "It's a long ride to Haven, Mynx. We'll have plenty of time to talk."
* * * * *
Tarscenian and Mynx certainly were making fast time, Kifflewit Burrthistle thought as he bounded along the Solace-Haven road. "Won't the two of them be surprised to see me, though!" he said to himself, chuckling.
His pockets were full again. The people rushing pell-mell from the exploding temple had paid little attention to a kender running alongside them.
They'd paid even less attention to their pocketbooks and pouches.
He'd lost most of his own pouches and their contents when the materbill roared fire. It was lucky that he'd found-so soon!-so many wonderful things to replace them with. "Even a few new pouches," he murmured.
* * * * *
A few nights later, red and silver moonlight glinted off the helms of twenty goblins and one hobgoblin as they watched a portly man approach. He carried himself like a king, double chin up haughtily, bulging eyes cold over bulbous nose, and a permanent sneer on his mouth.
"Still thinkhe we servants," one goblin muttered. "Seekerfool."
"Shutup, morefool," the chain-mailed hobgoblin leader snapped.
Hederick's foot caught against one of the chunks of blackened marble that littered the area, and he stumbled. Only a short time after the fire, and already the forest was reclaiming the scarred land. At this rate, within months there would be no sign of what had once been the greatest wonder of the Seekers, Hederick thought bitterly.
"Magic," he said suddenly. "Even in death, the witch ensorcels me, steals back my Erolydon. But she could not kill me. Ha, not she! Sauvay saved me."
Hederick stumbled again.
"Drunksick," the talkative goblin murmured. "All-thetime now, drunksick he. If we atehim, weget drunk-sick, too, certain. He not last long under Highlord, certain." A companion guffawed, the hobgoblin hissed another warning, and both goblin soldiers fell silent. They waited in the ruins and marked the High Theocrat's irreg shy;ular progress.
Finally Hederick stood before them. He spoke first, slurring his words but eliminating none of the contemptu shy;ous tone. "I see you have found reinforcements. Good. I have another task for you: Eliminate Dahos. He has out shy;grown his usefulness to me. His incompetence brought about the destruction of my Erolydon. I cannot trust Dahos. Or anybody."
"Needmore steel coins then, muchmore."
Hederick lurched against a piece of marble. "I've told you, you idiot, that all my money has gone to bribe the Highseekers in Haven. They will rule in my favor. All but Elistan, the fanatic, but he'll be a lone voice. I will remain High Theocrat of Solace, and there will be plenty of money to pay you later. But you'll have to wait."
"You notgo away. You owe we! Owe plenty!" The hob shy;goblin towered over Hederick. "You notgo away."
"Of course not." Hederick hiccoughed. "Where would I go? I shall remain in the old Seeker chapel in Solace. My priests are returning, even Dahos, and a few new novi shy;tiates."
Hederick's attention wandered. He seemed to be talk shy;ing more to himself than to the hobgoblin and its com shy;rades. "I still preach to the townspeople morning and evening, and they support my needs. Sauvay smiles upon me. I have bribe money enough. Imagine: Krynn-a Seeker theocracy, with me at its head! I will emerge victo shy;rious yet." Hederick shot them an unfocused look. "You will be wealthy enough then, vermin."
One of the goblins in the back erupted in what could have been a cough or a laugh, hastily muffled. The hob shy;goblin put a mailed hand on the hilt of its sword and glared equally at Hederick and the goblins.
In response, Hederick's hand went to his chest, felt briefly for something, then fell away empty.
For a moment, his watery blue eyes shone with fear. Then his eyelids drooped, and he staggered away from the goblins without comment or dismissal. A silver flask appeared in his hand.
His words drifted back in the night air.
"So what if it's gone, I don't need it, I don't need her. I don't need anybody!"
Epilogue
Astitms, leader of the Order of Aesthetics, surveyed the scribes before him and permitted a half-smile to grace his face for a frac shy;tion of a moment. Then it relaxed again into sternness.
Shortly before, Olven, Eban, and Marya had completed the manuscript, cut the scroll into uniform lengths, and bound the leaves into a book. That now book lay atop Astinus's desk in his private cell. He patted the tome as he addressed the scribes- now two, not three.
"You have done good work," he said. "You are apprentices no longer, but assistant scribes. Welcome."
Eban sighed in relief. But Marya said, "Where is Olven, mas shy;ter?"
Astinus didn't answer right away. Instead, the historian slipped off the stool, picked up the Hederick volume, and placed it on the wooden cart by the doorway. Later in the day, an assistant
would list the book in the library's records and assign it a place on the already overloaded shelves.
"Olven decided that he preferred a life out in the world," Astinus said after he returned to the stool. "We talked long. He felt chafed by the strictures he found here. Olven decided that he could not be happy for long if he were merely recording history. He is, I believe, on his way to Solace."
Eban's freckled face appeared mystified, but Marya suddenly smiled.
"And you, Marya?" Astinus asked her gently. "Can you remain here?"
The woman nodded. "For the time being," she whispered. "1 have things to learn first, before going my own way. Perhaps eventually I will follow Olven."
Eban looked from one to the other without comprehension. But the historian and the female scribe exchanged glances of perfect understanding.