Sentinelspire - Mark Sehestedt [120]
All this was true, but Berun simply said, "Yes."
"Yes," said Chereth, and he resumed his pacing. "Besides, I did not want to draw you into the petty bickerings of the Circles, of men and women whose minds were too small to see what ought to have been plain as summer sun before them. And so we left, you and I, wandering, doing what good we could in the lands where I continued my search for the final keys that would allow me to accomplish my desire.
"Five years ago, during our wanderings through the Ganathwood, I found the last piece I needed. I knew that to begin my plan, I had to return to Sentinelspire-the one place in all the world you could not go.
"And so, return to Sentinelspire I did, anticipating a great battle. I even prepared for my own death. But other events had happened in my absence. I'm sure that the death of Alaodin's god sixteen years ago was a severe blow to his power. His faith was shaken, but the lack of power also shook his authority within the Fortress. An old half-elf druid managed to enter the heart of the Fortress itself, kill many of the Old Man's blades, and rob the place of a valuable magic item on the way out, then when the Old Man's best assassin was killed in quest for retaliation… well, the resentment and ambition that had been building for years boiled over. While you and I were wandering the wild, the Old Man had to put down two rebellions among his own people. He won both times, but the last one was particularly savage, and almost half the blades of Sentinelspire ended up dead. Good for me, since they were still cleaning up the mess when I arrived. Already weary, both physically and emotionally, from slaughtering their brothers, the surviving assassins were in no position to offer much beyond a token resistance to my powers.
"To make a long tale short, I killed the Old Man. Killed him not far from where void now sit. Rather than seeking to avenge the death of their master, most of the assassins hailed my arrival. For I brought the thing they lacked-vision. I promised them a new way, a new vision of the future, in which my followers will rule as kings and queens of a new Faerыn."
Berun shook his head. It was all too much to take in. "A new way? A new Faerыn? I have no idea what you mean."
"Ah, and here we came to the thing for which I have labored and hunted all these years. My final solution. But for that, I must have a witness. Someone I am sure you will be gladdened to see." He looked up, his gaze fixed on the shadows gathered round, and said, "Bring the boy."
The shadows moved, taking form, and Berun recognized the creatures that had met him in the corridor and brought him here. They bowed to their master and disappeared down the stairs.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Surrounded by at least a dozen of the dark creatures, Lewan stood once again before the courtyard of the Tower of the Sun. The rain had slackened to a heavy drizzle that seemed to hang in the air. The grounds were much as Lewan had last seen them. The bodies of the assassins and the tiger still lay amidst the foliage. Rain had diffused the blood, but there was so much. Most of the inner courtyard was soaked in it, looking more black than red on the wet pavement, and much of it was slowly seeping into the street. Lewan was shocked at his utter lack of revulsion. Had he changed so much already? Seen too much death for it to have an effect upon him? He did not like the thought of that.
"What happened here?" Ulaan whispered. "Did… they