Doom of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [44]
“Your Grace?”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Cardinal. My thoughts wandered. Please continue.”
“This is most important, Your Grace.” The Cardinal’s voice held a hint of rebuke.
“You have my complete attention,” the Prince said gravely.
“The catalyst, Saryon, has been in direct contact with Bishop Vanya.”
“How?” Garald looked immediately concerned.
“The Chamber of Discretion, undoubtedly, milord, although the poor man has no idea what that is. I recognize the description, however. According to him, Bishop Vanya is actively working for our destruction….”
“Hardly news,” Garald murmured, frowning.
“No, milord. What is news is the fact that Blachloch was acting as a double agent. Yes, Highness” — in answer to a look of astonishment from the Prince — “the man was Vanya’s tool, sent to the Sorcerers’ village to lure us into war. Once we were dependent upon the Sorcerers and their weapons of the Dark Arts, Blachloch was to turn upon us and upon them. We would have fallen, defeated at the hands of our enemies, and the Sorcerers would have been destroyed.”
“Clever bastard, Blachloch,” Garald said grimly. “But I note you speak of him in the past tense.”
“He is dead, Your Grace. The young man” — Radisovik glanced at Joram — “killed him.”
“A Duuk-tsarith?” Garald appeared dubious.
“With the sword, milord, and help from the catalyst.”
“Ah, the sword of the darkstone.” Garald’s brow cleared. Then he frowned again, his eyes on Joram. “Truly a dangerous young man,” he remarked, then fell silent, lost in his thoughts. The Cardinal, walking beside him, kept quiet as well.
“Do you trust this catalyst?” Garald asked suddenly.
“Yes, milord, to an extent,” Radisovik answered.
“What do you mean, ‘to an extent’?”
“Saryon is a scholar at heart, Your Grace, a genius in mathematics. Thus was he lured to the study of the Dark Arts of Technology. He is a simple man. One who longs to be sheltered within the safe walls of the Font, spending his life in his books. But something has happened to him, something that casts a shadow over his life.”
“Something tied to the young man?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Simkin said as much — talk of Vanya sending this catalyst after Joram to bring him back to the Font.” Garald shrugged. “But … that is Simkin. I disbelieved most of it.”
“The catalyst corroborates his story, Your Grace. According to him, he was sent by Bishop Vanya to bring Joram to justice.”
“And you think —”
“He is telling us the truth, milord, but not all of the truth. In fact, Your Grace, that is why I believe he is being so free with his information. Saryon appeared pathetically eager to tell me as much or more than I wanted to know about Blachloch. The poor man is transparent. He is obviously fluttering this broken wing to keep me away from whatever it is he has hidden in his nest.”
“What reason does he give for Vanya wanting to apprehend the young man?”
“Only the obvious reason that Joram is Dead, milord, and a murderer was well. The young man killed an overseer. According to the catalyst, Joram had just provocation. The overseer killed the young man’s mother.”
“Bah!” Garald’s frown deepened. “Bishop Vanya would not concern himself with such a petty crime. He would turn that over to the Duuk-tsarith. The catalyst holds with this wild story?”
“And will hold with it, Your Grace, to his death. I note one other thing of interest about the catalyst, milord.”
“And that is?”
“He has lost his faith,” said Radisovik softly. “He is a man wandering alone in the darkness of his soul, without the guidance of his god. Such a man — who has a secret as does this one — will cling to that secret all the more tenaciously since it is the only thing he has left to him.” The Cardinal shrugged, shivering slightly in the chill of the forest. “I don’t know for certain, however. Perhaps