business within the Temple took place in the offices along this southern corridor. The residences and guest quarters, servants’ quarters, and all the requisite function rooms, kitchen, pantry, laundry, as well as the baths and meditation gardens, lay on either side of the great courtyard. The sleeping quarters of the clergy and those, like herself, of the martial orders, were situated in a basement hall, below the one she now walked through.
At the opposite end of the hallway stood the office of the High Priestess. The fact that the offices of the two Temple leaders lay as far from one another as was physically possible was not lost on many. Unlike the Father-Bishop’s office, the High Priestess’s had an antechamber, in which sat her personal secretary, one of the Temple priestesses. She looked up as Sandreena entered the room. If she recognized Sandreena from previous visits, she didn’t reveal so.
‘Sister,’ she said softly in even tones. ‘How may I assist you?’
Fighting off a sudden urge to turn and walk out, she said, ‘I am Sandreena, Knight-Adamant of the Order of the Shield. I am paying a courtesy call upon the High Priestess.’
The slender, middle-aged woman stood up regally. She wore the plain robes of her order, a brown homespun bleached to a light tan. Around her neck she displayed the Order’s sign, a simple shield hung from a chain, but it was not lost on Sandreena that they were made from gold and were of fine craftsmanship. A gift from the High Priestess no doubt. ‘I will see if the High Priestess has a moment for you.’
Sandreena quietly prayed that a moment was indeed all she had to spare, for she knew that an invitation to sit and ‘chat’ meant a long and tedious inquisition. A moment later Sandreena’s worst fears were justified when she was ushered into the main chamber and found two chairs flanking a table with a fresh pot of tea.
High Priestess Seldon was a robust-looking, stout woman in her fifties. She had rosy cheeks and hair so light a grey it bordered on white, which made her dark sable eyes all the more dramatic and penetrating when she fixed her gaze upon Sandreena, as she had on more than one occasion. ‘Ah, Sister,’ she said beckoning Sandreena to take the empty chair. The High Priestess was also an ample woman, who seemed to grow in girth each time Sandreena met with her. ‘What brings you to Krondor, child?’ she asked.
Sandreena almost winced. If ‘girl’ meant the Father-Bishop had put aside his authority, ‘child’ meant the High Priestess was asserting hers. Despite the fact that Sandreena had served for four years as a Squire-Adamant in the Temple, had been trained in every weapon blessed for use by the Order, and for the last three had been wandering the Kingdom and Northern Kesh as a weapon of the Goddess, the High Priestess was ensuring that she remembered who held the authority in Krondor, and reminded her that she was a traitorous girl for giving up the path of the Priestess and preferring to take up arms to bludgeon the unworthy.
As Sandreena was about to answer her, the High Priestess said, ‘Tea?’ and without waiting for her guest to answer began to pour the hot liquid into fine porcelain cups.
Sandreena examined the cup handed her by the High Priestess and said, ‘Tsurani?’
Her hostess shook her head and said, ‘From LaMut. But it is of Tsurani design. Real Tsurani porcelain is far too costly for us to use here. The Goddess provides, but not to excess, child.’
Even that tiny explanation felt like a reproach to Sandreena.
‘So, again, why are you in Krondor?’
Sandreena knew she did not have to explain. She could claim it was mere happenstance that had brought her to the capital of the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles. But she was certain that the Mother Superior already knew of her summoning to the Father-Bishop’s office. She would not trust coincidence when a conspiracy was possible.
‘I was in Port Vykor, High Priestess.’
‘Visiting Brother Mathias?’
Sandreena nodded. He had brought her to the Mother Temple in Kesh where she had been tutored and expected to become a priestess. He had come into her life again in Krondor when she had changed her calling from that of a novitiate in the priesthood to a Squire-Adamant of the Order of the Shield of the Weak. Mathias had stepped in to take her as his squire when the debate between the High Priestess Seldon and Father-Bishop Creegan had grown contentious. Sandreena now knew that she was a useful tool for Creegan and whatever personal affection or desire he might possess for her, was easily put aside. Seldon saw her as a stolen possession, another setback in her endless struggle with the Order and those associated with it, especially the Father-Bishop. It was rare for anyone to rise from the martial orders to a position of authority within the Temple proper, but Creegan was a rare man.
‘He is … content,’ said Sandreena slowly. ‘The illness that takes his memory has not lessened his pleasures in most things. He’s content to fish when allowed, or to walk in the gardens. He sometimes remembers me, sometimes not.’
‘He is well otherwise, then?’ asked High Priestess Seldon and for a brief moment, Sandreena saw a hint of genuine concern and affection. Brother Mathias had refused rank and position over the years, but had gained great respect in the Temple.
‘The healers at the retreat say he is healthy and will abide for years. It’s just difficult … to not be remembered by him.’
‘He was like a father to you,’ said the High Priestess in a flat, almost dismissive tone, and whatever spark of humanity Sandreena had glimpsed was gone. Sandreena was Creegan’s creature, and the High Priestess would never forget that, or forgive her betrayal. Sandreena knew that much of the friction between the High Priestess and the Father-Bishop was because Seldon believed Creegan had usurped too much authority in Krondor, rather than being caused by losing a talented novitiate to the Order. It was rumoured that the High Priestess saw herself as a viable candidate for the most holy office in the Temple when the current Grand Master’s health failed. And if that were true, Creegan would be her biggest barrier to the office of Grand Mistress.
Sandreena resisted the temptation to remind the High Priestess that she had no idea what a father was like, given that her mother had no idea who her father had been; and that from what she had seen of other fathers while growing up, they were generally poor at best, and drunk, abusive, womanizing, brutal monsters at worse. No, Brother Mathias had been closer to a saint than a father. He had become, and remained to this day, the only man she trusted without reservation. Even Father-Bishop Creegan was viewed with some reservation, because his needs always trumped hers or indeed anyone else’s.
She simply nodded and made non-committal noises.
‘So, what is next for you, my child?’
Sandreena knew it was best not to equivocate. The High Priestess would have sources in the Temple. Yet, she didn’t have to tell the complete truth. ‘Word has reached the Order that pirates are troubling a village along the Keshian coast. It seems that the imperial court is too busy to be bothered with the problem, so as I am the closest Knight-Adamant to the village, I’m to go.’ Using her title reminded the High Priestess that despite her rank and former position of authority Sandreena visited her only as a courtesy, nothing more. Draining her cup, she rose and said, ‘I should be on my way, High Priestess. Thank you for taking time from your very busy day to see me.’
She stood waiting for a formal acknowledgement, as was her right, and after an awkward moment, the older woman eventually inclined her head in consent. She could expect any priestess or novice to remain until dismissed, but not a knight of the Order. As Sandreena reached the door, the High Priestess said, ‘It is a shame, really.’
Sandreena
