Sword of the Gods - Bruce R. Cordell [108]
“He’s alive. Or animate at least.”
“What, undeath? Do you really think it’s gone that far?” Tarsis asked. “I mean, we’re all servants of Oghma, whether you want to call us namers or lorekeepers. Both factions believe they serve their lord in the proper fashion, and that the opposing faction is the one who has wavered from true faith.”
“They’ve had more than a century to make nice,” Demascus said. “I’ve seen fanaticism play out like this before.”
“And now it’s come to this,” said Tarsis, shaking his head. “If only we’d found some way to compromise.”
“Something more significant than a doctrinal difference is in play,” Demascus said. “Trust me; the gods don’t call on my services merely to serve as an arbiter for misbehaving children. Your factions may have quarreled for decades, doing slow damage to the overall faith. However, something truly dire must have occurred recently if my intercession is necessary.”
“Then I wish the avatar would have simply explained as much,” said Tarsis.
He must be tired to openly criticize his god, Demascus thought.
On the other hand, maybe not. He’d learned in the tendays since he’d accepted his latest commission that it wasn’t unusual for an Oghmanyte to question pat answers, especially newly revealed knowledge. They were also given to discussing facts that others accepted without question. Tarsis, Brenwin, and even Landrew didn’t seem like dogmatic adherents of “ancient truth” like so many other religious authorities he’d dealt with. For that reason, the Oghmanyte faith was like a breath of fresh air, regardless of whether it called itself the Orthodox Church or the Church in Exile.
Which made the emergence of factions all odder. If differences in interpretation of the observed world were celebrated and discussed in the church, the long divide over doctrinal differences was more than an anomaly. It was a fundamental sickness.
Actually, it was probably an assault.
Which explained why an aspect of Oghma had finally contracted Demascus to put an end to the troubling division, and had explicitly chosen one faction over the other when he’d aimed the Sword of the Gods at the former leader of the Church in Exile. Sort of the ultimate “no confidence” vote, really.
“How much longer do you think we can keep Landrew guessing?” Tarsis said.
Demascus shook his head. “I’d hoped the man would slip up on the passage from Procampur, and provide me some actionable intelligence.”
“Still nothing?”
Demascus shook his head.
Tarsis said, “It doesn’t surprise me, I guess. Landrew’s played the part of a loyal lorekeeper to perfection. Just last night he, Brenwin, and I traded anecdotes of the faith. I went further than I’ve gone before; I called out the old decrees of Undryl Yannathar as blasphemy. Landrew didn’t bat an eye; he joined in with me and Brenwin denouncing the so-called Great Patriarch.”
“I heard.”
Demascus rubbed his eyes. Lords of light, he didn’t know what to do next. What use was an avenging sword and assassin’s contract when the target refused to show himself, and his one lead failed to slip up?
He said, “This entire trip may be a bust, Tarsis. Undryl Yannathar may not even be in Akanûl.”
“But the avatar said he was!”
“No, the avatar said that Undryl’s ‘most dangerous agent’ was in Akanûl.”
Tarsis opened his mouth as if to disagree, but paused. Then he said, “Binder forfend! Enough with the pretense. Let’s just grab Landrew and … and make him tell us what he knows!”
“Don’t think I haven’t considered that. A half-dozen times, truth be told. And doing so still remains my last resort, though I have a feeling that even if we put Landrew to the question, he’ll refuse to give up anything. Fanatics are like that, even in the face of persuasion.”
The priest’s features went pale. “Wait, do you mean torture?”
“That, or magical inducement. Neither works particularly well in my experience. The innocent end up implicating