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most zealous of paladins may learn to his horror that his holy end does not justify
his every bloody mean."
"I will remember this, sire. In all candor, however, I do not understand your
point."
Zalathorm rose and looked deep into the young jordain's eyes. "I have
learned many things since the battle's end. I cannot yet tell you how this
knowledge came to me. This much I can say: Queen Beatrix was once known as
Keturah, the woman your friend Tzigone sought so desperately. No one alive
knows this but me, not even the queen herself. So tell me now, jordain, what will
you do now?"
The ground shifted under Matteo's feet, and his head hummed like a swarm
of captive bees. He swallowed hard. "The same, sire."
"And if I tell you that Keturah could open that door for you, so that you could
march into hell after your friend? Would you be tempted to save them both at any
cost, or would you cling to truth even then?"
"Even then," he said in an anguished whisper.
The king nodded slowly. "Well, perhaps you have a chance at success. You
have twenty days."
Zalathorm turned and strode swiftly away, no longer able to meet the young
man's burning eyes. He understood all too well the pain written there.
Keturah's daughter. He closed his eyes and brought to mind the image of the
girl with the shorn brown locks and impish grin whom he had seen at Basel
Indoulur's side. It was she who had brought the magic mouth device into the
queen's workroom, thus getting the evidence that would condemn her own
mother for treason. Would she have done this, had she known? Or would she
cling to principle as firmly as did Matteo?
With a sigh, Zalathorm made his way down a hidden stairwell into the
deepest and most secret part of the palace. As he walked, he cast a powerful
magical disguise over himself. He never approached this hidden chamber without
this disguise, though it had been many years since he'd worn this face outside
the palace. The lines of necromancers who stood like sentries outside the door
knew him only by his assumed face and nodded to him as he passed.
Zalathorm shut and warded the door, then turned to the enormous gem that
floated precisely in the center of the room. It was vaguely star-shaped, redder
than garnet, with hundreds of smooth, glittering sides. Light pulsed within its
heart.
The king bowed his head before the sentient gem, more in apology than
supplication, and whispered, "The Heart of Halruaa seeks your counsel." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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most zealous of paladins may learn to his horror that his holy end does not justify
his every bloody mean."
"I will remember this, sire. In all candor, however, I do not understand your
point."
Zalathorm rose and looked deep into the young jordain's eyes. "I have
learned many things since the battle's end. I cannot yet tell you how this
knowledge came to me. This much I can say: Queen Beatrix was once known as
Keturah, the woman your friend Tzigone sought so desperately. No one alive
knows this but me, not even the queen herself. So tell me now, jordain, what will
you do now?"
The ground shifted under Matteo's feet, and his head hummed like a swarm
of captive bees. He swallowed hard. "The same, sire."
"And if I tell you that Keturah could open that door for you, so that you could
march into hell after your friend? Would you be tempted to save them both at any
cost, or would you cling to truth even then?"
"Even then," he said in an anguished whisper.
The king nodded slowly. "Well, perhaps you have a chance at success. You
have twenty days."
Zalathorm turned and strode swiftly away, no longer able to meet the young
man's burning eyes. He understood all too well the pain written there.
Keturah's daughter. He closed his eyes and brought to mind the image of the
girl with the shorn brown locks and impish grin whom he had seen at Basel
Indoulur's side. It was she who had brought the magic mouth device into the
queen's workroom, thus getting the evidence that would condemn her own
mother for treason. Would she have done this, had she known? Or would she
cling to principle as firmly as did Matteo?
With a sigh, Zalathorm made his way down a hidden stairwell into the
deepest and most secret part of the palace. As he walked, he cast a powerful
magical disguise over himself. He never approached this hidden chamber without
this disguise, though it had been many years since he'd worn this face outside
the palace. The lines of necromancers who stood like sentries outside the door
knew him only by his assumed face and nodded to him as he passed.
Zalathorm shut and warded the door, then turned to the enormous gem that
floated precisely in the center of the room. It was vaguely star-shaped, redder
than garnet, with hundreds of smooth, glittering sides. Light pulsed within its
heart.
The king bowed his head before the sentient gem, more in apology than
supplication, and whispered, "The Heart of Halruaa seeks your counsel." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]