Astonema as the High Priestess, but her true title was simply the First Daughter of the Great Mother.
“I still marvel how this imposing building manages to uplift your spirits,” the second Daughter said.
“That is,” replied the First Daughter, “because it was designed to make you feel part of its greatness and not, like the temples or houses of worship of the false gods, to make you feel small, fearful and humble.”
“Shouldn't we concentrate on the matter at hand?” the Third Daughter asked. “Our plans lie in ruins around us.”
“Maybe not exactly in ruins,” the First Daughter mused, “but they are certainly damaged. Let's just hope not beyond repair.”
They went through a door that led to a room with a vast balcony that looked out over the city of Torantall.
“I always feared something like this might happen,” the Third Daughter said. “We have depended too much on too few people. See what has happened. Emelasuntha has disappeared and so has her son. He was supposed to herald the new age of the Great Mother under her guidance.”
“He may not be dead yet,” the First Daughter replied. “And the Ormidonian branch of the Sisterhood is actively looking for his mother. We must consider giving them permission to use disciples of the seventh outer circle.”
“Don't forget,” the Third Daughter countered, “that even if Anaxantis is still alive his medicines will soon run out. What will happen then?”
“He will recover, I suppose,” the First Daughter shrugged. “We can always start the treatment over, or find other means to make him into the king we want. Maybe Emelasuntha has enough influence on him to rule him without any aid. Don't forget that he isn't prepared for the throne. He is more of a scholar, and he has no training in kingship, diplomacy or weaponry. Moreover, as far as we can tell he has no inclination to become a warrior.”
“So were does all this leave us?” the Second Daughter intervened.
“We carry on with those parts of the plan that are not affected. It can't be difficult. The House of Tanahkos is already divided against itself. It will just require a nudge here and there, a little push now and again... and then the Devil's Crown will fall of its own accord into the lap of he who will become the weak king.”
“May the Great Mother help us,” the Second Daughter sighed.
Ehandar's first attempt to get more troops for the defense of the border began with a visit to Mirkadesh. The county consisted of six villages of about equal size, lying closely together. The main activity there was agriculture. The villages all looked about the same, with simple, well maintained houses and farms. The people seemed, if not happy, well contented. He was received with all honors by the Assembly of Elders. He explained that due to several circumstances the county would be expected to defend it's own stretch of the border from now on.
“We have no weapons,” one of the elders said hesitatingly, “and if we had, we wouldn't know how to use them.”
“You can buy weapons and I will provide experienced soldiers to train your men,” Ehandar replied.
“The problem is, your lordship,” the elder said, “that we have no gold or money to buy weapons with. That is probably why the Mukthars have not attacked us for more than seventy years. We produce what we need ourselves and have little to do with people from outside Mirkadesh. What little money our modest trade brings in is just about enough to pay the taxes.”
“You mean you have no treasury, no reserves?” Ehandar inquired. “Whatever do you do when a harvest yields too little to feed yourselves?”
“That is in the hands of the Gods,” the elder replied meekly.
“Maybe I can provide weapons. How many men between twenty and forty five years old can you free for military duties?”
“That is another problem, your lordship. You see, we need everybody to work the fields and herd the flocks or we can't produce
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