Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [98]
“You fear the Duuk-tsarith. Of which I am one.”
“True, but you have always been of an independent nature Mosiah, and were not afraid to go your own way, if you thought the other way wrong. That was why Her Majesty chose you to accompany us. You are the only one of her Enforcers she felt she could trust.”
“What is it you fear the Duuk-tsarith will do?”
“Why, try to seize the Darks word, of course,” Scylla responded.
“So that is why we’re here,” Mosiah said thoughtfully. “ ‘I am prepared to take the responsibility,’ the Queen said. Eliza means to use the Darksword. And Father Saryon knows where it is.”
“Certainly. Didn’t Her Majesty explain this to you before we left?”
“Perhaps Her Majesty does not put as much faith in me as you do,” Mosiah said wryly.
Scylla sighed. “One can hardly blame her—after all that’s happened. Emperor Garald believes that the Duuk-tsarith are under his control and will obey his commands. Certainly, they’ve given him no reason to think otherwise, but still . . .”
“You don’t trust them.”
“The Darksword is a great prize. It could give them enormous power, especially if they discovered the secret to making more swords.”
“I don’t see how. No one with Life can use it. The Darksword would drain them of their magic and leave them helpless.”
“That bump you took must be severe,” Scylla said. “Or maybe it’s a recurrence of those injuries you suffered in the collapse of Lord Samuel’s house during the battle. Whatever it is, you’re obviously not thinking straight. The Dead among the Duuk-tsarith would wield the Darksword. You were the one who told me that is why the Dead were recruited in the first place. And then it’s widely known that the Duuk-tsarith don’t believe in the Bishop’s prophecy. Like many others, they think it’s a political device cooked up by the Emperor and Radisovik to frighten the rebels.”
“My head throbs,” Mosiah said, and he sounded very plaintive. “Remind me of this prophecy.”
Scylla lowered her voice, spoke solemnly. “That the Devil himself was raising an army against us. Demons armed with Hell’s Light would come down on us from the skies and destroy every living thing in Thimhallan.”
So startled and alarmed was I by this prophecy that I turned in consternation and stared at Mosiah.
“The Hch’nyv!” I signed.
“What?” Scylla demanded. “I don’t understand. What is he talking about?”
“A previous conversation we had. It is not important.” Mosiah made a swift motion with his hand, counseling me to keep quiet. “This prophecy . . . when is it to be fulfilled?”
“This time tomorrow, the demons will launch their attack. Thus Bishop Radisovik was told: ‘Only the Darksword in the hands of Joram’s heir can save us.’ “
“And who gave the Bishop this infor—this prophecy?”
“A being of light,” said Scylla, sounding awed. “An angel sent from the Almin.”
“I can understand how my brethren in the Duuk-tsarith could be skeptical,” Mosiah said. “I must admit I find it hard to believe.”
Scylla drew in a deep breath, seeming about to argue or reprimand. Slowly, however, she released it. “This is not the time for another of our theological debates. Though I do worry about your soul and pray for you nightly.”
Mosiah appeared considerably taken aback by this statement and didn’t seem to know what to say. Scylla was also silent, preoccupied.
I was watching them and listening as best I could while keeping one eye on the path ahead. He started to speak, but she interrupted him.
“I wish Her Majesty had discussed this with you!” she said, then added decisively, “Still, it is only right that you know. But this must be kept secret. The Emperor sent a message to Earth, to General Boris.”
Scylla paused, expecting Mosiah to look shocked. He accepted this news very calmly.
“What is wrong with that? General Boris and King—I mean Emperor Garald are friends, after all.”
“Hush! Never say such a thing aloud! Don’t even think it! It would be worth the price of the Emperor’s life if it were known that he had ties