Time of the Twins

“I am overjoyed to see you up and around,” Quarath said, taking Crysania’s hand and speaking with such feeling and warmth that the young woman flushed with pleasure. “The Kingpriest spent the night in prayer for your recovery. This proof of his faith and power will be extremely gratifying. We will present you to him formally this evening. But, now”—he interrupted whatever Crysania had been about to say—“I am keeping you from Prayers. Please, do not let me detain you further.”

Bowing to them both with exquisite grace, Quarath walked past, heading down the corridor.

“Isn’t he attending services?” Crysania asked, her gaze following the cleric.

“No, my dear,” Elsa said, smiling at Crysania’s naivete, “he attends the Kingpriest in his own private ceremonies early each morning. Quarath is, after all, second only to the Kingpriest and has matters of great importance to deal with each day. One might say that, if the Kingpriest is the heart and soul of the church, Quarath is the brain.”

“My, how odd,” murmured Crysania, her thoughts on Elistan.

“Odd, my dear?” Elsa said, with a slightly reproving air. “The Kingpriest’s thoughts are with the gods. He cannot be expected to deal with such mundane matters as the day-to-day business of the church, can he’?”

“Oh, of course not.” Crysania flushed in embarrassment.

How provincial she must seem to these people; how simple and backward. As she followed Elsa down the bright and airy halls, the beautiful music of the bells and the glorious sound of a children’s choir filled her very soul with ecstasy. Crysania remembered the simple service Elistan held every morning. And he still did most of the work of the church himself!

That simple service seemed shabby to her now, Elistan’s work demeaning. Certainly it had taken a toll on his health. Perhaps, she thought with a pang of regret, he might not have shortened his own life if he had been surrounded by people like these to help him.

Well, that would change, Crysania resolved suddenly, realizing that this must be another reason why she had been sent back—she had been chosen to restore the glory of the church! Trembling in excitement, her mind already busy with plans for change, Crysania asked Elsa to describe the inner workings of the church hierarchy. Elsa was only too glad to expand upon it as the two continued down the corridor.

Lost in her interest in the conversation, attentive to Elsa’s every word, Crysania thought no more of Quarath, who was—at that moment—quietly opening the door to her bedroom and slipping inside.

5

Quarath found the letter from Par-Salian within a matter of moments. He had noticed, almost immediately on entering, that the golden box that stood on top of the dressing table had been moved. A quick search of the drawers revealed it and, since he had the master key to the locks of every box and drawer and door in the Temple, he opened it easily.

The letter itself, however, was not so easily understood by the cleric. It took him only seconds to absorb its contents. These would remain imprinted on his mind; Quarath’s phenomenal ability to memorize instantly anything he saw being one of his greatest gifts. So it was that he had the complete text of the letter locked in his mind within seconds. But, he realized, it would take hours of pondering to make sense of it.

Absently, Quarath folded the parchment and put it back into the box, then returned the box to its exact position within the drawer. He locked it with the key, glanced through the other drawers without much interest, and—finding nothing—left the young woman’s room, lost in thought.

So perplexing and disturbing were the contents of the letter that he cancelled his appointments for that morning or shifted them onto the shoulders of underlings. Then he went to his study. Here he sat, recalling each word, each phrase.

At last, he had it figured out—if not to his complete satisfaction, then, at least, enough to allow him to determine a course of action. Three things were apparent. One, the young woman might be a cleric, but she was involved with magic-users and was, therefore, suspect. Two, the Kingpriest was in danger. That was not surprising, the magic-users had good reason to hate and fear the man. Three, the young man who had been found with Crysania was, undoubtedly, an assassin. Crysania, herself might be an accomplice.

Quarath smiled grimly, congratulating himself on having already taken appropriate measures to deal with the threat. He had seen to it that the young man—Caramon was his name apparently—was serving his time in a place where unfortunate accidents occurred from time to time.

As for Crysania, she was safely within the walls of the Temple where she could be watched and subtly interrogated.

Breathing easier, his mind clearing, the cleric rang for the servant to bring his lunch, thankful to know that, for the moment at least, the Kingpriest was safe.