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"As would I. The point is, the Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor are here, and they are trouble enough."
"I've told you before, Campbell, you shouldn't worry about magic. The emperor has clipped the claws of magic."
Dalton carefully folded his fingers together before himself on the desk. "You say that often enough, Stein, and as much as I wish to, I find little comfort in mere words. I, too, could promise things, but you expect results that can be seen."
Stein waved his knife. "I've told you before, the emperor intends to end magic so men of vision can lead the world into a new era. You will be part of that. Magic's time has passed. It is dying."
"So is the Sovereign, but he's not yet dead."
Stein went back to cleaning his nails, paying exaggerated attention to them. He seemed undaunted by Dalton's doubts and went on to try to dispel them.
"You will be pleased to know, then, that unlike your beloved Sovereign, the bear of magic no longer has fangs-it is toothless. It is no longer a weapon to be feared."
Stein lifted the corner of his cape made of human scalps. "Those of magic's talents will contribute to my collection.
I take the scalps while they are still alive, you know. I enjoy their screams while I'm cutting it off them."
Dalton was unimpressed by the man's boasting and his attempts to shock, but wished he knew what Stein was talking about when he alluded to the end of magic. He knew from Franca's inability to use her gift that something was going on, but he didn't know what or, more important, the extent to which it was impaired. He didn't know if Stein was telling the simple truth, or an ignorant version of wishful thinking layered over some Old World superstition.
Either way, the time had come to act. They could ill afford to let it go on as it was. The measure of how far they dared go in showing their opposition to joining Lord Rahl was the problem Dalton faced. It was necessary to take a stand in order to fire people into saying no to Lord Rahl, but a weak stand was as good as- no stand. On the other hand, it was far too dangerous to reach through the bars and twist the nose of the bear if it still had its teeth and claws.
Dalton wondered if he might be able to press Stein into being more forthcoming. "It sounds then as if we have a serious problem."
Stein looked up. "How so?"
Dalton opened his hands in a gesture of befuddlement. "If magic is no longer a weapon, then the Dominie Dirtch, in which we all have invested so much faith, is of no use, and all our plans will fail. I would call that a serious problem."
Stein took his feet from Dalton's desk and slid the knife back into its sheath. Putting an elbow on the desk, he leaned forward.
"Not to worry. You see, the thing is, the emperor still has control of his Sisters of the Dark; their magic works for him. From what they've told us, something has happened, though. From what I gather, something of magic has gone awry and caused the power of those on Lord Rahl's side to fail.
"Jagang has learned that Lord Rahl no longer has magic backing him. His magic is going to fail. The man is, or soon will be, naked to our blades."
Dalton was now at full attention. If it was true, that would change everything. It would mean he could implement the full extent of his plans at once. It would mean he could take the necessary action and not have to worry over the repercussions or even reprisals from Lord Rahl.
Better yet, Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor would have to place even more of their hope in the vote, while at the same time Dalton, without fear of their actions, insured their loss.
If, that was, it was true about magic failing.
Dalton knew one way he might find out.
But first, the time had come for Dalton to pay a visit to the ailing Sovereign. The time had come to act. He would do it that very night, before the feast pla
As hungry as she was, A
She had long since been staked to the ground and the grimy tent erected around her, so she knew it was getting to be about that time. At any moment she expected a burly Imperial Order soldier to storm in with her bread and water. She didn't know what had happened to Sister Alessandra; A
The soldiers disliked the duty of feeding an old woman. She suspected their comrades made sport of their domestic duty. They would come in, grab her hair in their fist, and push the bread in her mouth, packing it in with stubby filthy fingers, as if they were stuffing a goose for roasting. As A
It was an unpleasant experience, one over which A
Once, the soldier who came to feed her had simply thrown the bread on the ground and set a wooden bowl of water beside it, as if she were a dog. He seemed proud of himself in that he had shown her disrespect and saved himself considerable trouble all at the same time.
He didn't realize it, but A
The tent flap opened. A dark shape stepping in blocked out the campfires beyond. A
Sister Alessandra pressed the candle into the dirt to the side. The woman was not smiling. She said nothing. She didn't meet A
In the dim candlelight, A
A
Alessandra raised one shoulder in a gesture of feigned indifference. She wasted no time in bringing a steaming spoonful of sausage soup to A
A
"I feared greatly for myself, too," A
"I know the feeling," Alessandra said under her breath.
"Alessandra, are you… are you all right?"
"Fine." She seemed to have retreated to an emotionless place.
"You're not badly injured, then?"
"I'm better off than some of the others. If we… if we get hurt, a bone broken, or something like that, Jagang allows us to use our magic to heal one another."
"But healing is Additive Magic."
Sister Alessandra brought the spoon to A
A
As Alessandra fed A
A