Gordimer still had the vast mane of blond hair mat had given him his nickname. His nature was suitably ferocious both toward his own enemies and those of God.

Else told his tale simply. "Things just went too smoothly for too long. Something like the bogon was bound to happen."

"Rashal. You invited yourself here. Explain that to me."

"A bogon is a shadow entity of great power, almost never seen anymore. It would equate with a count or baron or even a kaif in the mundane world. But harder to kill." Er-Rashal betrayed a tiny sneer. The Kaif of al-Minphet, through his proxy, Gordimer, had been trying to eliminate his irksomely deviationist rivals in Qasr al-Zed and al-Halambra for years. The main result was a missive from Indala al-Sul Halaladin indicating that he would not be pleased if anything happened to his Kaif.

Gordimer accepted the message at face value. The marshal respected Indala al-Sul Halaladin because of his signal successes in the Holy Lands.

Never having met, the men had been allies in wars against the outlanders. Wars that achieved little because whenever the northern Kaifate became involved in the Holy Lands it developed immediate border problems elsewhere. Inevitably, Rh?n would invade Lucidia's northernmost provinces in an effort to recover lost territory. In the east, the Ghargarlicean Empire would start probing the borders there. The Ghargarliceans were very aggressive under their current emperor. Though now they had their own distractions from the Hu'n-tai At.

The Hu'n-tai At were pressing Lucidia from the northeast, too. They were like the Wrath of the One God being vented against everyone.

Some Lucidian clerics believed that resisting the Hu'n-tai At meant defying the Will of God. Those clerics argued that Tsistimed the Golden, warlord of the Hu'n-tai At, was the Scourge of God prophesied in the Written, a pagan fury who

would punish the Realm of Peace for all the indulgences and sins and lapses of the Faithful.

But there were fundamentalist mullahs who believed that living in fixed houses, dwelling in urban areas, living under any but the harshest conditions, constituted a surrender to the seductions of the Adversary.

Gordimer and his Kaif had not abandoned hope of seeing the end of the Kaif of Qasr al-Zed. That Kaif's champion would soon be too busy to hare off on any mission of vengeance.

Fundamentalist priests were more a nuisance in the Lucidian Kaifate than in the Dreangerean. The Lion was the sort who made certain no one became too critical.

Gordimer listened attentively while er-Rashal analyzed Else's journey into the Idiam, to Andesqueluz, and his return with six mummies.

Er-Rashal praised Else's quick thinking and unswerving determination. Praise from the sorcerer was rare.

The marshal interrupted. "All right. He's a paragon. Nobody else could have pulled it off. But that's why I sent him. He doesn't need to stand around listening to a clutch of broad-ass bureaucrats tell him he's wonderful. He needs to know why I wanted him. So he can get to work planning."

Else said, "I did hope to spend some time with my family."

Gordimer scowled. He had no family. Family weighed you down. Family other than the Sha-lug was a weakness. Case in point. Else was distracted. But family were useful as hostages.

Er-Rashal observed, "It wouldn't be good to leap into the flames again, right away, after dancing in the fire as long as the captain has."

Gordimer waved a hand. "It'll be a long mission, anyway. A short delay won't matter."

The Lion relied on er-Rashal's advice but did not always like it. Else thought it might be wise to send his family out of town before he left al-Qarn again.

The horrors he could imagine had happened before, to others.

Gordimer the Lion was a genius on the battlefield but petty and vindictive as a ruler. And extremely selfish. And unable to recall the main reason he had removed his predecessor.

You could not keep pissing people off. They would do something about it eventually.

"My curiosity continues to grow," Else said, as a reminder that he had not yet been told why he had been summoned.

Gordimer said, "I'm sending you to Firaldia, to the Brothen Principalities, to find out what Sublime is up to. Our spies aren't making sense anymore."

Er-Rashal said, "They say Sublime is preaching new crusades. To reverse Indala al-Sul's successes. To drive the Faithful away from the Wells of Ihrian and out of the Holy Lands. To conquer Calzir. The same silly things Patriarchs always preach, but this one may mean it. Though a crusade doesn't make sense. Sublime is on the brink of war with the Grail Emperor. And still has problems with the Viscesment pretenders. In addition to which, he's preoccupied with something known as the Maysalean Heresy, which is strong in an Arnhander province called the Connec. Our spies suggest that the man has no acquaintance with reality. We don't believe anyone of his stature could be that disconnected."

The marshal added, "The only people capable of undertaking a new crusade are the same ones who backboned previous Chaldarean expeditions. The Arnhanders. But they're at war with Santerin. And they'd have to provide any soldiers needed to put down the heretics and anti-Brothen forces in the Connec."

Er-Rashal continued, "Nevertheless, this Patriarch seems convinced that he need only say that something is God's Will and it'll happen."

"Sounds like people should question the Patriarch's sanity."

Er-Rashal agreed. "But those people believe Honario Benedocto became something transcendent when he was elected Patriarch. In an election renown for bribery, blackmail, and at least one murder."

Gordimer growled, "Sublime worships a false god. He worships idols. Naturally, he's mad. But how deep does his madness run? Will crazy talk lead to crazy deeds? We need to know."

That made sense. Goidimer had to guard and preserve his portion of the Realm of Peace. But that could not be the whole story.

Er-Rashal said, "I want to know more about the Collegium. Besides what they're up to politically."

Then Gordimer said, "If Sublime is as crazy as it sounds, there ought to be factions in the Collegium willing to replace him."

"I don't know much …" Else cut himself short. No point offering even an appearance of contradiction. "Can I pass in Brothen society?"

Er-Rashal said, "In Brothe, in the Brothen Principalities, in Firaldia as a whole, yes. Easily. Brothe is as cosmopolitan as Hypraxium. I went there, once, years ago. Without knowing the language. I got by. You won't have trouble as long as you don't claim you're anything but what you are, a professional soldier. Be an unemployed mercenary from somewhere far away. If you don't tell anyone where you're from, you'll never have to deal with someone who wants to talk about the good old days back home. Say you don't want to talk about the past because there's a price on your head. Let the story involve the virtue of a woman whose husband you crippled when he caught you with his woman. That's the kind of crime westerners find amusing."

Gordimer said, "Rashal is as excited as a kid about finding out what the Collegium is up to in the catacombs under the Chiaro Palace. Me, I want to know if anybody can be turned against Sublime. And I want to know Sublime's plans. I want to know who his most likely successors are and what their attitudes are toward Dreanger, the Holy Lands, the Arnhander states, and the Realm of Peace. And I want to know everything I can find out about a man named Ferris Renfrew."

That caught Else from the blind side. "Ferris Renfrew? Who is Ferris Renfrew?"

"Exactly."

Er-Rashal had pity. "Ferris Renfrew is a very odd bird. He's visited al-Qarn twice. He represents himself as an agent of the Grail Emperor Johannes. He's slipperier than a freshwater eel. He wanted information without giving anything back."