Hederick The Theocrat (24 page)

Phytos looked confused. “The gem they gave you. It's a hag's eye. It's magical. Destroy
it!” Phytos looked in his hand, where the mud-colored jewel still nestled. Then he flung
it to the ground and stamped upon it with his forehooves. Three screams sounded through
the forest. The annis hag clapped her hands over her eyes. “Sisters, I'm blind!” she
cried. The two greenhags reappeared. They, too, were pawing at their eye sockets. It took
but three centaurs armed with clubs and arrows to slay the hags. Mynx found the female
centaur who had been carrying her. “Hurry!” the thief shouted. “We may be too late
already!” Her hand reflexively went to her neck, to where she'd placed the Diamond Dragon
for safe-keeping. Her fingers found... nothing. Mynx immediately cried out and
countermanded her own order. The centaurs pulled up, protesting, as Mynx groped under her
armor for the Diamond Dragon. Perhaps it and its thong had slipped under the armor's
gorget, she thought. Phytos caught the panic- stricken look in her eye and understood
immediately. “Thou hast lost it?” he cried. “The magical artifact?” “I don't know,” Mynx
returned. “I was pushed and shoved in the battle. Perhaps it fell off.” The centaurs and
humans lost valuable time searching for the Diamond Dragon. Finally, Kifflewit Burrthistle
found it, stomped into the mud. “Here it is!” he chirped. He bolted over to Mynx and
handed it to her with a flourish. Hands shaking, she retted it around her neck. “Hurry!”
she shouted. “We've no time to waste.” The slaves remounted. The centaurs leaped into a
canter, and then a gallop. Trees flew by. To the east, a yellow glow announced the arrival
of day. Mynx glanced down; the Diamond Dragon sat serenely atop the gorget of her
mismatched armor. Mynx frowned. One of the diamonds was missing. She found herself hoping
it wouldn't make any difference in the artifact's power. At any rate, there was no time to
backtrack and search some more. “Hurry!” she repeated. “Oh, please hurry!” The longtime
thief found herself breathing the first prayer of her life. Meanwhile, on a nearby
centaur, Kifflewit Burrthistle patted one of his pouches. Yes, the diamond was still in
there. It had sure been loose when he picked up the artifact. What a lucky thing he had
been there to pry the jewel out of its setting and keep it safe. Who knew what trouble
there might be if it were lost, he thought. Outside Tarscenian's cell, footsteps scuffled
on the flagstones. A temple guard. Tarscenian stood and faced the door of his prison cell.
The footsteps stopped. Hands rattled the tiny window in the door and slid it aside.
Hederick's face peered in at Tarscenian. The older man inclined his head and waited for
the High Theocrat to speak first. “I have come to offer you clemency,” Hederick said. “Ah.
But at what price, Hederick?” “Tell me where the Diamond Dragon is,” the High Theocrat
ordered. “If you do this, I will let you go.” As near as Tarscenian could guess, the
magical artifact was probably waltzing through Krynn in the pouch of a carefree kender,
but the old man would die before he'd tell Hederick that. “I do not know, High Theocrat.”
“Of course you do,” Hederick snapped. “If I knew where it was, why would I have ventured
into the temple? Into your quarters?” Tarscenian asked reasonably. He gazed at Hederick.
There was no sign of the frightened boy he once had been. “Remember the giant lynx,
Hederick?” Tarscenian asked quietly. “Remember how we fought it off together? You fought
fair, once.” “Don't change the subject,” the High Theocrat spat out. "If you came into the
temple, it must be because the Diamond Dragon is hidden here somewhere. That's it, isn't
it, Tarscenian? Tell me

where it is, and I'll arrange to have my minions transport you safely away from Erolydon.“
Tarscenian shrugged. ”As a dead body, no doubt.“ Hederick drove his fist into the thick
door. ”I will kill you slowly, false priest! I will torture you, I swear. It will take you
days to die. No one defies me. Everyone in Solace will witness your humiliation."

Tarscenian stood silently. “If you think your friends will come and rescue you, you are
wrong,” Hederick snapped. “Even now, three hags devour them in the forest outside Solace.”
“Ah, Hederick,” Tarscenian chided. “Stooping to using magic. What would your gods think?”
It was the High Theocrat's turn to say nothing. “I am ready to die, Hederick,” Tarscenian
told him. “I wish to join Ancilla.” “Then she is dead.” Tarscenian declined to admit he
wasn't sure. There was still hope of some miracleand of Ancilla escaping from the tree
trunk in the courtyard. “Yes, Ancilla is dead.” “Where is the Diamond Dragon, Tarscenian?”
“I don't know. Nor do I care.” Hederick's tone was silky. “I will have you bound to the
vallenwood trunk and torn, limb from limb, by the mater-bill.” Tarscenian only shrugged at
Hederick's threats. “By the New Gods, Tarscenian, you will beg for mercy before I am
through!” “There are no New Gods, Hederick. I told you that long ago, back in Garlund.
There are only the Old Gods, and they will return somedayperhaps sooner than you know. And
when they do, Hederick, you will suffer for what you have done.” Hederick snorted. “One
last chance. You will not tell me where the Diamond Dragon is?” Tarscenian shook his head.
“By the New Gods, then, I will tear apart every stone in Erolydon to find it! I built this
temple, and I can destroy it if need be!” “As you will, Hederick.” The High Theocrat
slammed the small window shut. A short time later, the temple guards came for Tarscenian.

“There's Crystalmir Lake!” Ceci Vakon cried. Her mount and Mynx's led the thundering
centaurs as they streamed through a clearing just east of the lake and north of Erolydon.
Then a shadow swooped over the women, and they threw themselves to the ground. “Night
hunter bats!” Ceci shouted. “They're the ones who carried us off to the slavers.”

“Everyone stay low!” the silver-haired Phytos bellowed. “We are challenged!” Within
moments, the entire force had taken shelter under low-hanging boughs as a half-dozen of
the seven-foot bats swooped near the ground. The night-hunters could see well in the dark,
but they needed room to maneuver, and the tree branches would hinder their attack. “Arrows
nocked! Bows ready!” Phytos shouted. Mynx crouched with Ceci beneath a pine branch. The
thief felt several small figures nestle against her, and she realized the kender and
Ceci's sons had joined them. “Don't be afraid, Kifflewit,” Mynx said soothingly. “The
archers will take care of them. The bats certainly make big enough targets.” Kifflewit
Burrthistle sniffed with contempt. “Who's scared? Not me,” he said. “I just wanted... to
get closer to the action!”

“Fire!” Phytos cried. The centaurs let loose with their arrows just as the bats dived into
their midst. One night hunter managed to get its claws around a centaur, but the man-horse
was too heavy for the bat, which nonetheless managed to rake the centaur with its
razor-sharp tail before the bat fell dead, pierced by an arrow from Phytos's bow. Another
night hunter died when it dived heedlessly toward the branch under which Mynx and Ceci
Vakon hid. With a shout, Mynx leaped out, stabbed at it, and slit the huge beast from
throat to tail. Ceci darted off, herding her sons under a thicker outcropping of pine
boughs. Kifflewit Burrthistle let out a war whoop and took off in another direction.
Phytos led a charge of centaurs as the last four giant bats massed to arc down toward the
humans and horse-creatures. Clubs beat two of the flying beasts out of the air, and arrows
stopped the last pair. Soon the four were flopping on the ground in their death throes.
The centaurs roved among them, using clubs to hasten their deaths. The battle had taken
only a short time, but the delay was bothersome anyway. Mynx ran to Phytos. “Look!” she
cried, and pointed to the east. “The sun is coming up.” “Hurry!” the centaur shouted to
his troops. He cantered, then ran, through the early morning light, while the others
rushed to follow. A female centaur gave Mynx a hand, pulling the thief onto her back. The
freed slaves quickly found their mounts and chased after Phytos. Through the vallenwoods,
they could just see the northern wall of Erolydon gleaming white in the morning sun.

Phalanxes of temple guards and priests diverted the crowds of Solace residents and
refugees who swarmed toward Erolydon for the dawn service. Instead of the Great Chamber,
the spectators were surprised to find themselves herded into the eastern courtyard, into
the viewing area between the inner and outer walls.

There was no sign of Hederick. Tarscenian stood bound to the trunk of the vallenwood.
Alone in the center of the courtyard, he seemed curiously at peace. “What now?” the people
muttered. “Did you hear what happened yesterday with the black-robed mage?” “Indeed.” “My
cousin was there. She said the wizard blasted Hederick's heart right out of his chest!”
“And yet his gods saved him.” “The Seeker gods work mysteriously.” “I missed yesterday, so
I dared not miss today. Who is today's sinner?” “The old man who was with the lady mage
who challenged Hederick two days ago.”

Then the voices hushed as novitiates moved among the crowd, cautioning people that the
ceremony was about to begin. Two rows of blue-garbed guards entered the courtyard through
the main doors to the temple. Behind them came Hederick, dressed in ceremonial blue
velvet, his pudgy chin up, his face resolute. He could not resist a sneer of triumph as he
surveyed his longtime enemy helpless upon the vallenwood stump.

He hadn't had Tarscenian gagged. The ex-priest wasn't a formidable enough mage, in
Hederick's estimation, to bother with that. Besides, the High Theocrat had long dreamed of
savoring the dying screams of the false Seeker priest. Now he was moments away from that
experience. Hederick allowed a smile of anticipation to cross his face. Then he resumed
his usual emotionless demeanor. Hederick pivoted on one sandaled heel and stepped smartly
to the reviewing stand, erected safely behind a marble wall. He mounted the steps, strode
to a velvet-draped lectern, and, with head bowed, delivered the invocation of the Seeker
gods that began all Seeker services. Then he looked up and addressed the people.

“This morning heralds a special day,” Hederick intoned. “It is a holy time, a time of
reblessing, of renewing Erolydon's sacred charge. Of making clean that which has been
sullied.” “What?” some people in the crowd whispered. “What happened?” “Some centaurs
snuck into the temple.” “Ah, no!” “ 'Tis true; Hederick's own high priest let them in.”
“Was he daft?” “ 'Tis said he hoped to honor Hederick by sacrificing them within Erolydon
itself.” “Fool.”

“Blessed Seekers of Solace,” Hederick shouted, “I present one of the greatest sinners I
have yet encountered. Greater than any witch, than any mage, than any spell-caster,
indeed. For his sin involves...” Hederick waited for the crowd's murmurings to die away.
“For this man threw away opportunity that prayerful people would gladly die for.
Tarscenian, whom you see before you, had the entire kingdom of the Seeker pantheons before
him. He was blessed by the Seeker gods and goddesses. He was himself a Seeker priest.”

“Ah,” several people whispered. “That's the man. I'd heard Hederick was searching for
someone.” “The goblins have been busy these last few days. I did not allow my children
outside at all, for fear of them.” “This man, this Tarscenian, threw off the Seeker
faith,” Hederick said. “He gave uptossed aside! the holy brown robes of the Seeker priest.
And, not content with that sin, he went on to find a new altar to worship atthe profane
altar of the Old Gods.”

The people cried out. Hederick held up his hands, palms outward, until they quieted. “And
still not satisfied, this evil soul entered into a filthy liaison ... with a witch.
Together they devoted their lives to halting the Seekers. They have sought to impede me
for years unsuccessfully, of course. The woman died as a result of my holy
inquisition”Tarscenian started in surprise at Hederick's explanation of Ancilla's
demise“but the man, Tarscenian, escaped.”

Hederick swept his arm toward the figure strapped to the tree trunk. “This man, people of
Solace, would have denied you your only hope of salvation! He would wipe the Seekers, and
the comforts of their holy order, from the world!” Again the noise from the crowd rose and
ebbed. “But I...” Hederick smiled grimly, waiting for the chatter to abate. “I, guided by
the hand of my god Sauvay and the rest of the blessed pantheons, I was too clever for one
who follows the betrayer gods. Sauvay himself warned me of Tarscenian's plot, and I laid a
crafty trapa trap that, only last night, the unrepentant sinner Tarscenian fell into!”

Hederick held out a hand to Dahos, who had waited silently at the base of the reviewing
stand. The high priest climbed the steps and joined the High Theocrat. The Plainsman's
face was colorless and set. “This priest,” Hederick said, “has also sinned. He admitted to
the holy temple Erolydon those creatures who sullied it by their very presence. He sinned
in a great way, but he has sought forgiveness for that sin. Thus, in my generosity, I have
acquitted him.” The High Theocrat nodded formally at the high priest, who returned the
gesture but did not meet his superior's eyes. “Nonetheless, forgiven or not, it is
necessary to reconsecrate the temple,” Hederick continued. “We are here today to ask the
Seeker gods to cleanse it with their holy blessings. To that purpose you are witness this
morning. And to that purpose the blood of a sinner will stain the cobblestones of
Erolydon's courtyard.”

Hederick turned to Dahos. “Release the materbill,” he commanded. The tall priest hurried
to the pulley that controlled the door to the monster's prison. Dahos worked the ropes,
and soon the fiery-maned creature appeared, howling, in the doorway between the dungeon
and the courtyard. All of a sudden another sound vied with the mater-bill's roars. The
spectators turned from side to side as the sound of a hundred hooves, thundering toward
the northern wall of the courtyard, inundated them. “What is it?” a woman cried out. “More
hobgoblins?” Then the people screamed in terror, ducking as the first dozen centaurs, led
by Phytos, hurtled to the top of the outer wall, then leaped from there to the inner wall.
They plunged into the arena with

Tarscenian. Another dozen centaurs mounted by freed slaves followed, and a dozen more.
“Halt!” called Phytos. The mounted slaves jumped off the centaurs then, and swarmed over
the inner wall and into the spectators. As the slaves threw themselves at temple guards
and goblins alike, the centaurs formed a mass and approached Tarscenian. There was another
roar as the last of the freed slaves, who had traveled more slowly because they'd had no
centaurs to ride, came dashing out of the trees and helped each other clamber up the wall.
Two of the slaves raced along the wall and tackled a stubborn hobgoblin guard. Two more
slaves used the creature's own sword to overcome it. Other slaves sprinted along the inner
and outer walls. Many of the freed slaves, both men and women, fell lifeless to the
cobblestones, pierced through by swords and spears. Again as many were able to arm
themselves from the bodies of the slain victims and race back into battle against the
goblins and guards. “For Solace!” some of them bellowed. Mynx stood as straight and proud
as she could in her armor, riding on the back of her centaur. “Tarscenian!” she cried. “I
have the Diamond Dragon!” She broke the thong around her neck and held the glittering
artifact up to the morning sun. People gasped at the sheer radiance of the object. The
centaurs formed a living shield around her as Mynx edged her centaur toward the captive.
“Hold it against the vallenwood!” Tarscenian cried. “Ancilla is inside!” Although she
wasn't sure what he meant, Mynx leaned over and placed the warm artifact against the
vallenwood's roughness. “Ancilla, here it is, the thing we sought for so many decades,”
Tarscenian shouted. “We have the Diamond Dragon now!” The trunk of the vallenwood began to
glow, and Mynx heard the same humming sound that had torn at her when she was trapped
inside the Diamond Dragon. Surprised, she fell back. As soon as the artifact broke contact
with the tree, the glow died away. “Hold it there, Mynx!” Tarscenian ordered. “Let nothing
pull you away, no matter what happens!” Mynx did as he instructed. The incandescence and
the drone resumed. She closed her eyes and waited. But nothing more happened. She looked
at the old man. One of the centaurs had cut his bonds, and he had mounted the largest of
the men-horses. “Something is wrong,” he shouted. “It should have worked by now.” A
grimace of defeat crossed his exhausted features. “Perhaps Ancilla is dead after all.”
Mynx examined the Diamond Dragon. “There's a stone missing,” she said suddenly, pointing
to the arti-fact's back. “Could that be it?” Tarscenian nodded. “Where is it?” he asked
eagerly. She shrugged helplessly. “It was all right before we were attacked by the hags.
Maybe during the battle, we lost it somehow ...” Tarscenian's face fell. At that moment,
the materbill, who had been all but forgotten in the commotion, leaped forward with a
roar, directly attacking the centaurs. People cried out, and the centaurs broke ranks.
“Kill the infidel! Kill Tarscenian!” Hederick shouted to one of the guards flanking him on
the reviewing stand. In a moment, the guard's bow was up, an arrow nocked. In another
instant, the arrow flew toward the vallenwood tree. Mynx's centaur sensed its approach and
lunged against Tarscenian's mount. And then Mynx, not Tarscen-ian, was down, lost among
the legs of the centaurs, clutching her bloodsoaked right arm, the one that still held the
Diamond Dragon. Tarscenian found the sword of a dead guard pressed into his hand by a
centaur. “Murderer!” the old man cried at the High Theocrat. “It is you who are the
infidel, Hederick!” Then he was plowing through the crowd, fighting through dozens of
guards toward Hederick. The centaurs let loose a volley of arrows, and the materbill
howled in agony. The air was filled with smoke and flames, the screams of dying guards and
centaurs, and the terrified cries of hundreds of spectators. The freed slaves were
fighting hand to hand with goblins. Some spectators cheered them on, howling whenever a
goblin went down and rushing forward to tear the unfortunate creature limb

from limb. Kifflewit Burrthistle darted through the riot to Mynx's side. It was the kender
who was able to rouse the wounded thief enough to half-drag, half-push her away from the
tumult to the relative safety of the vallenwood tree. “There's something wrong with it,”
she lamented, her eyes glassy. “With the Diamond Dragon, kender. We lost one of the
diamonds, Kifflewit. By the gods, how could we have been so stupid?” The kender's head
shot up, startled brown eyes searching hers. “Lost it? But I have it, Mynx,” he finally
said. Kifflewit was uncharacteristically somber for a moment. “The diamond was loose. I...
I found it. I was afraid we'd lose it.” He cheered up. “Lucky I did, Mynx. It's safe in my
pouch. Everything will be all right! I have it.” Not for the first time, Mynx had to
control an urge to strangle the kender. “So where is it?” The kender peered through the
sea of humans and centaurs, goblins and guards, battling around them. Gouts of flame from
the dying materbill lit up the courtyard at odd intervals. “I dropped my pouches when I
came to rescue you-----There they are! And there's the one with the gemstone! I remember,
it was the red pouch with the blue string.” He pointed triumphantly but seemed disinclined
to budge from Mynx's side. “Get the diamond, kender!” Kifflewit scuttled off through the
bedlam without a backward glance. Phytos battled nearby, protecting Tarscenian's flank.
Mynx shouted until the violet-eyed centaur turned her way. “Help me up, Phytos,” she
commanded. She put the Diamond Dragon into the centaur's hand and clambered awkwardly onto
his back, her right arm dangling at her side. She strained for a glimpse of Kifflewit
Burrthistle. At first nothing but dust and tangled bodies greeted her eyes. Then there he
was, scooting across the courtyard and through the chaos like a rabbit. The materbill
writhed not more than an arm's length from the kender's red and blue pouch, but Kifflewit
dashed right up and grabbed it. He held up his hand and waved to Mynx. She raised her left
arm. “Throw it, Kifflewit!” she shouted. The kender may not have heard the words, but he
understood the gesture. He flung the missing diamond across the courtyard. Mynx caught it
deftly in her left hand and quickly replaced it in the figurine of the Diamond Dragon.
With Phytos shouting encouragement, she pressed the glittering artifact against the
vallenwood. This time the droning and glowing far overwhelmed what they had experienced
before. Mynx cast a triumphant look back at Kifflewitjust as the materbill roared one last
time and died. The last Mynx saw of him, Kifflewit Burrthistle was looking bewildered as
his clothes went up in flames. “Kender!” she cried. And then the vallenwood exploded.