Bahl didn't reply. From the mantelpiece he picked up a plain wooden pipe, black and scarred from years of use, lit it and settled into a solid armchair by the fire.
'What do you make of him?'
Lesarl sighed. 'By himself, a country boy who'd be a good guardsman and has enough brains to become an officer. He's quiet, which is good; more often than not the loud ones turn out to be maniacs. With those gifts, I have to assume there is more, but I simply cannot read the boy.'
'There is more to him, I'm certain. There's a wildness in his eye8 that I find rather worrying, and yet…' Bahl's voice drifted away,to be replaced by the crackle of the fire. His stared into the flames, like a man looking for signs and portents, and said quietly, 'I saw Aracnan tonight.'
Lesarl gave a start. He had not been expecting that. 'Aracnan? The walker-in-shadows? Was he after the boy?'
‘No. Aracnan does more than just kill. He had been sent to bring Isak here and present him, like the Tyrant of Mustet did for me. ‘I thought such missions were only given to mortals, expendable too considering what happened to the Tyrant afterwards.' Lesarl d in frustration. Without any unnatural skills himself, the Chief Steward would never fully understand that side of the Land.
'More commonly, but not always. Aracnan has frequently been sked to perform tasks by the Gods. It's said that he can hear Death's call wherever he is, that there's some connection between them.' 'And no one has ever tried to find out what? Or have none survived
to tell the truth?'
That's not for me to say. I doubt even a mage's daemon companion would dare tell. A powerful mage might live as long as I do, but Aracnan is immortal, and thus of greater consequence. He is not a good enemy to make, and he likes his secrets.'
'Ah, daemon companions, what I could do with one of those-' Bahl's expression cut that sentence off, but the wistful look on Lesarl's face remained as he continued, 'Oh I know it would be heretical, but mages claim necessity and the priests turn a blind eye. Just think of what my spies could do with-'
'Enough. You've already asked the Archmage about special training for some of his students. Yes, he came to me with that one, outraged at your lack of ethics.'
That treacherous old goat, I'll-'
'You'll take the warning like the good servant that you are,' Bahl snapped. 'I don't remember you suggesting it to me, so let the matter slide. I want the College of Magic close to me and back under our complete control. Now, didn't you have some news for me?'
Lesarl's face brightened as he remembered and he pulled a battered sheaf of parchment from inside his jacket. ‘The reason I actually went to see the Archmage was that he wanted to give me the deciphered copy of Malich's journals at long last. He wasn't happy about it at all.
He still thinks that all magic-related research should remain in the restricted libraries until he and his colleagues see fit. He insisted I collect this in person.'
‘So they did contain Malich's research? How did you convince him to release them?’ Bahl sounded a little impressed at his Chief Steward's power of persuasion.
'Because they did indeed contain the research; and because it was principally necromancy, your religious status has legal primacy.' Lesarl gave a satisfied grin. 'I'm sure that with a little prodding I could also have extracted a message of thanks to you for letting them do the translation in the first place.'
'Despite the fact it would have taken much longer to find anyone else capable?'
'Well, yes, but he appreciated my point all the same. Anyway, in between bouts of paranoid ranting that greatly flattered the abilities of my spies, Malich focused mainly on one of Verliq's conjectures to develop his rituals that followed a progression of-'
'What was the conjecture?' The burr of Eolis and Siulents down below was wearing Bahl's patience thin.
Lesarl thumbed through the pages of parchment hurriedly. 'Here we are: this is what the Archmage wrote as a quick explanation for me: "A Crystal Skull – being created specifically to counteract the magic of the gods in general, and Death in particular – cannot return a soul from the land of no time. Experiments have proved that souls do not retain sufficient integrity when removed from the physical world. However, in the state in-between the realms, ghosts and wraiths should preserve enough of their self to be returned to life if a suitable vessel is found."
'Malich did not record the actual ritual he claimed to have devised, but the College council believe they could recreate it from his various allusions; not that they would dare do so, of course. There were a number of additional factors: performing the ritual when the Gods stepped back from the Land, during twilight or on Silvemight, as well as the sacrifice of life according to some sort of covenant-'
The Law of Covenant,' supplied Bahl absentmindedly, 'the most fundamental principle in magic.'
'Yes, that's it. Anyway, this all requires the channelling of vast amounts of energies through the Skull.'
'Strange that he would devote his life to something he could never expect to test.'
That is why I doubt much of what was written. Advancing the theory of necromancy is an odd obsession for a man wanting t° achieve immortality. What use this would be to him I have no idea‹ neither he nor that Menin apprentice could have helped their cause
by it.This concerns long-departed souls, not the recently dead that he used as soldiers, and who of note could they return to life? Malich does claim that he returned a childhood friend once; that he managed to obtain a Skull for a brief while-'
'Hah!' said Bahl, with a snort of derision. 'I think we might have noticed that when we took the castle. 'I doubt I would have survived
a fight against a necromancer of his skill if he held a Crystal Skull. Did he enlighten us as to which Skull?'
'Surprisingly, yes; he claimed it was the Skull known as Knowledge.'
Bahl laughed. 'Not only was the man a liar, he was a bad one at that. Knowledge was destroyed almost seven thousand years ago. Mal-ich's mind must have been more rotted that we thought; the owner destroyed Knowledge in his madness after the Last Battle. If he hadn't, it would have resurfaced constantly over the years since, as those that did survive have done.'
'Exactly, my Lord. It makes Malich's claims as ridiculous as his influence is dangerous. He's caused us enough problems; the Azaer daemon-cult he championed has spread heresy throughout the tribe. Now that he's dead, can we not just erase any possible legacy?'
'Bring me everything the mages have first. I want to read these theories of his in greater detail.'
'My Lord?' The Chief Steward looked surprised. 'I wrote the summary myself so no one else would read this material. The evil Malich wrought has been corrosive enough. Even the wizards themselves took no chances; that's why they divided the work between twenty of them. Necromancy will bring damnation to anyone, even to you, my Lord. And Nartis has every reason to hate the Skulls after the death of his brother Veren_'
Bahl half-rose from his seat, sparks of anger flashing from his white eyes. 'Do not presume to lecture me on theology! The prattling of Priests and the chatter of old wives do not concern me.'
Lesarl froze for a moment, then dropped to one knee. Grim-faced, he bowed his head in apology. 'Forgive me, my Lord, I forgot my place.
Of course you know better than I do.' After all these years he should
be used to Bahl's outbursts, but they were unpredictable and alarming
and could still sometimes catch him off-guard. Bahl felt a second surge of anger at Lesarl's accusatory expression, but he made it subside. His Chief Steward was correct. Damn you,