"Extra meat? Yes?" The beast's lemony eyes gleamed brighter. Were these stupid creatures always hungry?

Hederick fought the urge to barter. After all, the goblins earned little enough as it was. "Yes, extra meat." He was growing faint, affected by the goblin's odor in the oppres shy;sive heat.

"Kill 'em someone?" The wide-eyed goblin asked.

Hederick nodded again. "Tarscenian, the tall man in the courtyard yesterday. Remember?"

"Tall man? Beard with cloak? Mage lady next to? Him that run-run out door when boom take ladymage?" Hederick grimaced. "Yes."

"Not kill 'em, no. Just capture. Bring 'em back temple. Not kill 'em, never, no, never. Not!"

"That's what Dahos told you, I know," Hederick said. "I'm changing his order."

The yellow eyes narrowed. "Change 'em orders?"

"Kill him," Hederick repeated.

"Kill 'em?"

"Yes, kill Tarscenian, the tall man in the cloak."

"No!" Yellow Eyes chanted again. "Not kill 'em, no. Just capture. Bring 'em back temple. Not kill 'em, never, no, never. Not!"

Hederick heaved a sigh. He should have imported hobgoblins first. Certainly they were more vicious and harder to manage, but at least they had brains larger than pebbles. Some even spoke passable Abanasinian. "'By the sword of Sauvay! You idiot, listen. Kill Tarscenian. Yes, kill. Kill him"

After repeating the new instructions five times, Yellow Eyes seemed to catch their drift. "Kill him dead?"

Hederick nodded.

"Eat'em, yes?"

Suddenly Hederick was sweating a river. Nausea thick shy;ened his throat again; his hands shook. But he struggled to maintain control and nodded. "Yes, eat him … No, wait!"

Yellow Eyes looked even more confused. Hederick took a deep breath. "Kill Tarscenian, yes. Do whatever you want with the body. But…"

"But?"

"But bring me the head." Hederick would not trust the goblins to have followed his orders until he had some proof of Tarscenian's death.

He made Yellow Eyes repeat the orders several more times, then he dismissed the goblin. The High Theocrat made his way back to his bed and stretched out. The steamy predawn heralded another sultry day in Solace.

Hederick felt like vomiting.

Discipline, he told himself. Breathe slowly. Loosen your fists. Steady yourself, you fool! "Order is the greatest good," he whispered to steel himself. "The Seekers will rule the world." The thought of all those waiting, needy souls braced Hederick, as it always did. "I will lead them all," he murmured.

Solace had had a modest Seeker church in the center of the city long before Hederick had arrived. When Solace had chosen to join Gateway and Haven in the Seeker theocracy, and the Council of Highseekers had gone on to appoint Hederick as High Theocrat, he had persuaded the high council that a trading center of Solace's stature needed a marvelous monument to the Seeker gods.

"Let us fulfill the prophecies of the Praxis and show the world the glory and strength of Omalthea and the pan shy;theons!" he had argued. One by one, the Highseekers had come around. Only that perpetual troublemaker, young Elistan, had seemed unconvinced. But even Elistan had ultimately gone along with Hederick's plans for Eroly-don.

Hederick forced himself to focus his thoughts. The trouble with Tarscenian was all but solved, and it was entirely possible that for the first time in decades, Heder shy;ick might be free of his sister.

The High Theocrat forced his thoughts through the duties of the coming day. He would join Dahos in the dawn devotions. There were many Seeker rites of devo shy;tion; each god and goddess in the two pantheons de shy;manded a separate rite of adoration. But there were also novitiates to instruct, priests to meet with, and workers to be supervised as they put the finishing touches on Eroly-don. Hederick also planned to step up his inquisitions, and later, during the evening revelations, he would again welcome converts to the cause.

The silk oversheet clung damply to Hederick's skin, and he wadded it up and tossed it in a corner. Later in the day, a pair of Seeker novitiates would spend hours in the airless laundry room beneath the women's quarters. Glorying in the heat and discomfort, they would reverently steam out each crease in the precious fabrics that enhanced the private quarters of the new High Theocrat.

The bedclothes and Hederick's garments were cleaned daily, whether worn or not. The frescoed walls, vallen-wood ceiling, and tile floor were swabbed daily with a solution of herbs and spring water. The room was kept thick with the scent of valley-lily incense night and day to cleanse away impurities in the air. Hederick, in his advancing age, was taking no chances with his health.

His rooms faced Crystalmir Lake, and at this time of day, the surroundings were quiet enough that the slightest sound carried. Somewhere, a horse-drawn wagon rattled over the cobblestones of the eastern courtyard. The scents of daytime began to assail Hederick; the smell of a roast shy;ing side of beef-a gift from a follower-brought saliva to the Theocrat's mouth. Two gnomes argued somewhere. Diverting creatures, Hederick conceded-much like otters. But unclean. They must be outside the gates; Hed shy;erick allowed only humans inside the temple.

"Impure," he muttered, "unblessed by the New Gods."

He felt a familiar wave of piety swell into prayer. "Oh, Motherlord, I will prove myself worthy. In the name of the New Gods, I will rid Krynn of the unclean. Of elves and half-elves and dwarves and gnomes. Of weavers of hereti shy;cal charms. Of witches-of anyone who dares gather the waning powers of the Old Gods to cast their spells! This again I vow!" He sat up and pounded one fist into an open hand.

When the New Gods eventually spoke and named him, Hederick, their chief emissary on Krynn, he would have his revenge-on Highseeker Elistan, on the Old Gods, on Ancilla if she still lived, on everyone. His advanced years would not matter; no doubt the New Gods would reward him with eternal life.

A burst of laughter floated up from the kitchens- coarse female laughter. Women from the poor sections of Solace were allowed inside portions of Erolydon late at night to empty chamber pots and perform the basest cleaning.

Hederick saw the disgusting scullery wenches in his mind's eye-tall, lustful women with knowing eyes, tawdry clothing barely covering breasts and buttocks, legs bare, sandaled feet permanently rimed with dirt. They would be joking as they worked, raising their voices in filthy insinuations as though they hoped to provoke Hed shy;erick, back in the sanctity of his rooms. He could hear them; he could always hear them, even when they were far away.

Sometimes, piqued by a particularly vile exchange, he ordered the entire lot whipped by Erolydon's guards. The guards knew their trade well, but the women would return, apparently undaunted, the next night to scrub the day's dirt from Erolydon and collect their meager wages. In these times, a paying job was not to be abandoned for a mere beating.

The darkness in Hederick's room gave way to gray, although the sun had not yet risen. He heard guards ush shy;ering the women out through the gates. Cursing beneath his breath, Hederick stood and rearranged his damp robe around his thick body. He padded barefoot across the tile floor to his prayer table and sat stiffly on the carved gran shy;ite block that served as a bench. Closing his eyes, grasping each wrist with the opposite hand, and folding his arms in his lap in the manner decreed by the Praxis, Hederick bowed his head and began his morning devotions.

"O New Gods who inhabit the skies above us, hear my prayer," he intoned. "The day begins, and the first thoughts of this faithful follower are of you."

He raised his voice, aware that priests and novitiates would pass his door, hear him, and know that the High Theocrat was communing with the gods. "You are the true gods, ascending at last to your rightful position over the false gods of the past, whose speciousness was re shy;vealed by the devastation of the Cataclysm more than three centuries ago.