Amber and Ashes - Margaret Weis [100]
The death knight’s red eyes fixed on the piece, and flickered, dubious. “I don’t understand you, my lord. Why should the goddess care about a khas piece? Even if it does look like her son—”
“Because it is her son, Krell,” said Chemosh. He leaned back in his chair, put his elbows on the arms, and placed the tips of his fingers together.
Krell’s hand twitched and he nearly dropped the piece. He set it down hastily and drew back away from it.
“You can touch him, Krell. He won’t bite you. Well, he would bite you, if he could get hold of you. But he can’t.”
“Ariakan is dead,” Krell said. “His mother took away his body—”
“Oh, yes, he’s quite dead,” Chemosh agreed complacently. “He died, by your treachery, and his soul came to me, as do all the souls of the dead. Most pass through my hands as fleeting as sparks rising to the heavens, on the way to the continuation of their journey. Others, such as yourself, Krell, are bound to this world in punishment.”
Krell growled, a rumble in the coffin of his armor.
“Still others, like my lord Ariakan, refuse to leave. Sometimes they cannot bear to part from a loved one. Sometimes they cannot bear to part from someone they hate. Those souls are mine.”
Krell’s red eyes flickered, then understanding dawned. He threw back his helmed head and gave a great guffaw that echoed throughout the Abyss.
“Ariakan’s thirst for vengeance against me keeps him trapped here. Now that is a fine jest, my lord. One I can appreciate.”
“I am glad you are so easily amused, Krell. Now, if you can stop gloating for a moment, here are your orders.”
“I am all attention, my lord.”
Krell listened to orders carefully, then asked a few questions that actually bordered on the intelligent.
Satisfied that this part of his plan would proceed, Chemosh dismissed the death knight.
“I trust you will not mind returning to Storm’s Keep, Krell?”
“Not so long as I am free to depart when I want to, my lord,” said the death knight. “I can leave once my duty’s done?”
“Of course, Krell.”
The death knight picked up the khas piece, stared at it a moment, sniggered, then stuffed it into his glove. “Truth to tell, I’ve kind of missed the place.”
“Keep that khas piece safe,” Chemosh warned.
“I will not let it out of my sight,” Krell returned with a chuckle. “On that you can count, my lord.”
Krell stalked off, still laughing to himself.
“Mina,” said Chemosh, displeased, “were you spying on me?”
“Not spying, my lord,” said Mina, coming to him from the darkness. “I was concerned. I do not trust that fiend. He betrayed his lord once. He will do so again.”
“I assure you that I am capable of dealing with him, Mina,” said Chemosh coldly.
“I know, my lord. I am sorry.” Mina moved close to him. She slid her arms around him, nestled near him. Her head rested on his breast.
He could feel her warmth, smell the perfume of her hair that brushed against his skin.
She will be less trouble to you dead than alive.
It was, after all, a consideration.
“Why are you concerned about Zeboim, my lord?” Mina asked, unaware of his thoughts. “I know that there is this monk who has been nosing about, but all you would have to do is to give me leave to deal with him—”
“The monk is a nuisance,” said Chemosh. “Nothing more. I threw him onto the pile just to let the goddess know that I know what she has been up to. And also to distract her from my true purpose.”
“And what is that, my lord?”
“We are going on a hunt for buried treasure, Mina,” said Chemosh. “The richest cache of treasure known to man or gods.”
Mina stared, perplexed. “What need do you have of treasure? Wealth is as dust to you.”
“The treasure I seek does not consist of such paltry things as steel coins, or gold crowns, silver necklaces, or emerald gewgaws,” Chemosh returned, scoffing. “The treasure I seek is made of material far more valuable. It is made of—myself.”
She gazed at him, looked long into his eyes. “I think I