The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [180]
“They’d also need some reason to defend the temple lands,” Salamander said. “If I lived under that temple’s rule, I’d desert the moment I saw the least sign of danger.”
“Me, too,” Neb said. “I suppose the priests could be asked to help provision an army in time of war. Maybe that’s what vexes their miserly hearts.”
Dallandra took a few steps away, then stood staring up at the distant temple.
“Or is it more than that, Dalla?” Salamander spoke softly.
“It may be, it may not.” Dallandra kept staring at the temple. “I don’t see any astral seals over the place.”
“Would they bother to raise seals?” Arzosah joined in. “They may not know there are dweomermasters among us.”
“If they were studying dark dweomer, they’d know. Believe me, they’d know. They’d have sentinels of a certain kind posted. I’ve not seen any.”
“Ah, but what if they’re being clever?” Salamander said. “They may have withdrawn all their workings so we won’t spot them.”
Dallandra let out her breath in a puff of frustration.
“We can draw reasonable conclusions all night,” Salamander went on, “but alas, alack, and welladay, we won’t know if they’re true or false.”
“Just so,” Dallandra said. “But I think me I’d best find out.”
“Dalla, you’re not going to try to go up there, are you?” Neb said. “The priests will never let you in.”
“Oh, that’s true enough.” Dallandra glanced his way with a smile. “But I don’t intend to ask their permission.”
Although Neb couldn’t put his insight—or memory—into words, he suddenly guessed what she was planning. “Dalla, are you sure it’s safe? The feel of that place—there’s somewhat gravely wrong up there. It’s almost enough to make me believe in evil dweomer.”
“You should believe in it, because it’s real, sure enough.” Dallandra said. “As to whether or not someone in that temple is working it, well, that’s what I want to find out.”
Dark dweomer? Neb shivered in revulsion. He desperately wanted to believe that no such thing existed, but deep in his mind he saw memories, mere bits and flickers of images barely formed, but enough. It existed, then, the evil perversion of dweomer, and he realized that he’d never really doubted it. Other memories struggled to rise, and this time, he could give them words. “The high priest might well be walking that path,” Neb said. “He was trying to ensorcel Voran.”
Salamander caught his breath in a gasp of surprise. Arzosah swung her head around to look Neb’s way.
“I take it he didn’t succeed?” the dragon said.
“He didn’t,” Neb said, “but Govvin was staring at Voran the entire time, and trying to manipulate his—his—ye gods! I’ve forgotten the word.”
“Aura.” Salamander supplied it. “This Govvin must not be very skilled.”
“True spoken,” Dallandra said. “But let’s not rush to underestimate a man who might be an enemy. Although—” Again she paused to gaze at the temple. “He might merely know a few mental tricks.”
“And where would he have learned them?” Arzosah said.
“From someone who takes coin for his dweomer teaching.” Dallandra turned away from her study of the distant temple and glanced at Salamander, who nodded his agreement. “There are silver daggers of the soul as well as of the sword. The ones with the swords are far more honorable, of course.”
“Secrets like that don’t come cheap,” Salamander said. “It would explain the miserliness, if the high priest were bartering his taxes for tricks from one of the dark masters.”
“That’s true,” Dallandra said. “If I’m wrong, and they’re all merely coldhearted misers, then getting in should be easy enough.”
“And if they’re not?” Salamander quirked an eyebrow.
“Then it will be difficult, of course.” Dallandra laughed, a brittle little bark. “I need to plan this very carefully.”
“I’ll be flying over the temple later tonight on my way to those cows,” Arzosah said. “I’m no match for you or for Salamander, but I do know a few bits and pieces of dweomer. I can take a look around, if you’d like. A scouting expedition, we may call it.”
“I would like, and my thanks.” Dallandra suddenly grinned. “And may you have luck on your cow hunt, too! Neb,