Chapters (35)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- Maps
- Dramatis Personae
- The Tiste: Holds, Greater and Lesser Houses, Priesthood and Court
- Prelude
- Part One : In These Gifts the Shapes of Adoration
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Part Two : The Solitude of This Fire
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Part Three : The Proofs of Your Ambition
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Part Four : The Forge of Darkness
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- About the Author
- Also by Steven Erikson
- Copyright
‘Lord,’ she said, ‘perhaps I am not as wise as Emral Lanear. Abyss knows, she would tell you as much. But I do understand this: whether political or personal, struggle is all about face. Status is longed for as a measure of others’ regard, and power itself is but a weapon, to be kept close to hand when all else fails to impress.’
He surprised her with a barked laugh. ‘And if I told you, High Priestess, that true justice stands in opposition to all that you have described …’ He shook his head. ‘If you see as clearly as this, then I suggest we elevate this discussion. I well grasp your warning – if the highborn stand prepared for war, it is no vast stretch to see them turning upon me and the Legion. This is absurd! I understand that Lord Draconus is not even in Kharkanas!’
‘He is not, Lord. But all now hear of your troops in the forest. They are killing Deniers, and, I wager, anyone else they find. Lord, many of these Deniers live in highborn holdings. Legion soldiers invade estate lands with impunity.’
Urusander looked away, and then abruptly sat in the remaining chair. ‘I have made an error,’ he said. ‘I should not have recalled the Legion.’
‘Lord, if that recall includes the renegade companies, perhaps this can be salvaged.’
He eyed her. ‘I did indeed underestimate you, High Priestess. It is I who should beg forgiveness.’
‘Withhold that sentiment, Lord. There are not two factions to this religious war. There are three.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I have looked well upon the Legion’s banner,’ she said, ‘and see it as a sign. For all his foolishness, when Hunn Raal urged me to flee to you, Lord, well, I now believe some other force was speaking through him. You look upon me but do not question my transformation. Why?’
She saw his discomfort at her question. ‘High Priestess, I have no understanding of the ways of sorcery. The change I see I took to mark Mother Dark’s rejection of you.’
‘Nothing of what you see, Lord, was by her hand. I bear the Azathanai’s gift.’
‘And what is the nature of this gift?’
‘Lord, I wish I knew.’
‘Yet you proclaim yourself to be standing in opposition to Mother Dark.’
‘Perhaps, as the right hand opposes the left.’
‘And the river god?’
‘That god’s place in all of this remains to be determined, Lord. Best await a decree from Mother Sheccanto and Father Skelenal.’
‘It was my thought to send an emissary to them,’ Urusander said, one hand now upon the tabletop, fingers slowly drumming. He looked up at her. ‘I intend to disavow my Legion from the acts of the renegades. Indeed, I intend to outlaw them and set a bounty upon their capture.’
‘It is no wonder Hunn Raal is not here.’
‘You were the last to speak to him, High Priestess. What were his plans?’