"The Thirty-ninth Dynasty was the last family with any pretensions to even a trace of the legendary Imperial blood, the line of Dannos himself. And Aureon was the last of them--his sons slain in war, himself an old man without relatives. The Imperial line had been weakening and dying for generations--inbred, enfeebled, degenerate, the blood of Dannos running thinner in each new birth. Aureon had sense enough to take a second wife of different stock--myself, princess of Choredon. Thereby he gained a valuable ally for Valkarion--but no children, and now he is dead." Hildaborg sighed. "So the Imperium is gone, the Temple is the sole power, and a strong and unscrupling High Priest rules Valkarion. I think the Priest, Therokos, intends to proclaim Valkarion a theocracy with himself as the head. But first, for reasons of politics and personal hatred, he must get rid of me." "Why should he hate you?" Hildaborg smiled twistedly. "He disapproves of barbarians, and my mother was from Valmannstad. He disapproves of my laxness in religious matters. He knows I stand between him and absolute power. I gave Aureon strength to oppose him and thwarted many of his measures. The commons think well of me, I have done what I could to improve their lot, and he hates any hold on Valkarion's soul other than his own. "I knew that with Aureon dead and no heir of the blood, Therokos would feel free to strike. I could not hope to match him for long, especially since the law is that no woman may rule in Valkarion. My one chance seemed to lie in the new conqueror who was to come. Yet I could not approach him openly--the Temple spies were everywhere, and anyway the prophecy was that he would be a destroying fury, worse perhaps than the priests. I had to sound him out first, and secretly. "So I put a trustworthy guards-captain in charge of the gate today, with instructions to direct the stranger to the Falkh and Firedrake. The landlord there was paid to make sure you would stay, and would take the room where I was in my guise of tavern girl. "So you came. But now it seems the priests were ware to my plan. They have acted swifter than I thought, striking instantly at my men--I expected at least a few days of truce. And I played into their hands by thus cutting myself off from all help. Now they need only hunt us down and kill us." "'Twill take some doing," growled Alfric. "Ha, we may yet pull their cursed temple down about their shaven skulls!" "And so the prophecy would be fulfilled--you would blow out the last dim flicker of light--" She stopped, staring at him, and her voice came slowly: "Valkarion, the last citadel of civilization, the last hope of the dying world, to be wasted by a heathen bandit--perhaps the priests are right, Alfric of Aslak. Perhaps you should die." "Luigur take your damned prophecy!" he snarled. * * * * *