A Darkness at Sethanon by Raymond E. Feist Page A

turned slowly to face the squire. ‘What are you thinking?’
    â€˜I’m thinking it’s time to have a chat with Father Nathan. You coming?’
    Laurie put aside his mug of bitter beer and rose. ‘I’ve a horse tied up over there.’
    â€˜We’ve ridden double before. Come along, Your Grace.’
    For the first time in days, Laurie chuckled.
    Nathan listened with his head tilted to one side while Jimmy finished his idea. The priest of Sung the White rubbed his chin a moment, looking more a former wrestler than a cleric, while he thought. ‘There are magic means of impelling someone to tell the truth, but they are time consuming and not always reliable. I doubt we’d find such means any more useful than those presently being employed.’ His tone revealed he didn’t think much of the means presently being employed.
    â€˜What of the other temples?’ inquired Laurie.
    â€˜They have means differing little from our own, small things in the way spells are constructed. The difficulties do not lessen.’
    Jimmy looked defeated. ‘I had hoped for some way to pluck the assassins from the mass wholesale. I guess it isn’t possible.’
    Nathan stood up behind the table in Arutha’s conference room, appropriated while the Prince was overseeing the questioning. ‘Only when a man dies and is taken into Lims-Kragma’s domain are all questions answered.’
    Jimmy’s expression clouded as a thought struck; then he brightened. ‘That could be it.’
    Laurie said, ‘What could be it? You can’t kill them all.’
    â€˜No,’ said Jimmy, dismissing the absurdity of the remark. ‘Look, can you get that priest of Lims-Kragma, Julian, to come here?’
    Nathan remarked dryly, ‘You mean High Priest Julian of the Temple of Lims-Kragma? You forget he rose to supremacy when his pre decessor was rendered mad by the attack in this palace.’ Nathan’s face betrayed a flicker of emotion, for the priest of Sung himself had defeated the undead servant of Murmandamus, at no little cost. Nathan was still plagued by nightmares from that event.
    â€˜Oh,’ said Jimmy.
    â€˜If I request, he may grant us an audience, but I doubt he’ll come running here just because I ask. I may be the Prince’s spiritual adviser, but in temple rank I am simply a priest of modest achievements.’
    â€˜Well then see if he will see us. I think if he’ll cooperate, we might find an end to all this madness in Krondor. But I’ll want to have the Temple of Lims-Kragma’s cooperation before I blab the idea to the Prince. He might not listen otherwise.’
    â€˜I’ll send a message. It would be unusual for the temples to become involved in city business, but we’ve had closer relationships with each other and the officers of the Principality since the appearance of Murmandamus. Perhaps Julian will be kindly disposed to cooperate. I assume there’s a plan in this?’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Laurie, ‘just what have you got up that voluminous sleeve of yours?’
    Jimmy cocked his head and grinned. ‘You’ll appreciate the theatre of it, Laurie. We’ll whip up some mummery and scare the truth out of the Nighthawks.’
    The Duke of Salador sat back and thought on what the boy had said; after a moment of consideration, his blond beard was slowly parted by a widening grin. Nathan exchanged glances with the two as understanding came and he, too, began to smile, then to chuckle. Seeming to think he forgot himself, the cleric of the Goddess of the One Path composed himself, but again broke into an ill-concealed fit of mirth.
    Of the major temples in Krondor, the one least visited by the populace was that devoted to the Goddess of Death, Lims-Kragma – though it was commonly held that the goddess sooner or later gathered all to her. It was usual to give votive offerings and a prayer for the