Blood of the Fold (Sword of Truth 3)

Verna read the message again, just to be sure she was reading it right. Nathan with a sword? The man was even more deranged than she had thought. The Prelate must have her hands full.

Ann, you said I must find out who are sworn to the keeper. I have no idea how to do this. Can you help?

If I knew how to do it, Verna, I would tell you. A few made me suspect them, but most did not. I was never able to find a way to divine who were the Keeper’s. I have other matters I must deal with, so I must leave this one to you to solve. Keep in mind that they can be as clever as the Keeper himself. Some, who I was certain were against us, because of their disagreeable nature, were loyal to us. Some who revealed themselves and escaped on the ship, I would have trusted with my life. I would be dead now, had I.

Ann, I don’t know how to do this! What if I fail?

You must not fail.

Verna wiped her sweaty palms on her dress.

But even if I can find a way to identify them, then what am I to do with this information? I cannot fight Sisters with the power they have.

Once you accomplish the first part, Verna, I will tell you. Know that the prophecies are vulnerable to tampering, and in danger. Just as Nathan and I use them to help us influence events so as to take the proper fork, so too can our enemies use them.

Verna sighed in frustration.

How can I work to identify our enemies, when there is so much work to do as Prelate? All I do is read reports, and yet I fall farther and farther behind. Everyone is depending on me, and waiting on me. How did you find the time to accomplish anything, with all the reports?

You read the reports? My goodness, Verna, but you are ambitious. You certainly are more conscientious as Prelate than I.

Verna’s mouth dropped open.

You mean that I don’t have to read the reports?

Well, Verna, look at the value in reading them. Because you read the reports, you discovered that the horses were missing from the stables. We could have easily bought horses after we left the palace, but took those instead so as to leave a sign. We could have paid for the bodies instead of going through the complicated arrangements we did, but then you wouldn’t have been able to talk to the gravedigger. We took care to leave signs you could follow so as to discover the truth. Some of the signs we left were quite troublesome, such as the one with the discovery of our “bodies,” but were necessary, and you did a good job in figuring it out.

Verna felt her face flush. She had never thought to look into the matter of the bodies being discovered already prepared and in winding sheets. She had completely missed that clue.

But I must confess, Ann went on, that I hardly ever bothered to read reports. That is what assistants are for. I simply told them that they were to use their judgment and wisdom and, in keeping with the best interest of the palace, handle the matters involved in the reports. Then, every once in a while, I would stop before them and pull out some reports that they had dealt with and read their disposition. It always kept them diligent in their task, for fear I would read their instructions given in my name, and find them unsatisfactory.

Verna was astonished. You mean to say that I can simply tell my assistants, or advisors, how I wish matters managed, and then have them handle the reports? I don’t have to read them all? I don’t have to initial them all?

Verna, you are Prelate. You can do as you wish. You run the palace, it does not run you.

But, Sisters Leoma and Philippa, my advisors, and Dulcinia, one of my administrators, all told me how it must be done. They are so much more experienced than I. They made it seem I would be failing the palace were I not to handle the reports myself.

Did they now, Ann wrote almost instantly. My, my. I think that if I were you, Verna, I would do a bit less listening, and a little more talking. You have a fine scowl. Use it.

Verna grinned at that. Already she was picturing the scene. There were going to be some changes in the Prelate’s office come morning.

Ann, what is your mission? What are you trying to accomplish?

I have a small task in Aydindril, and then I hope to return.

It was plain that Ann wasn’t going to tell her, so Verna thought about what else she wanted to know, and what she needed to tell the Prelate. One thing of importance came to mind.

Warren gave a prophecy. His first, he said.

There was a long pause. Verna waited. When the message finally came, its hand was a bit more carefully drawn.

Do you remember it, word for word?

Verna could not forget a word of that prophecy. Yes.

Before Verna could begin to write the prophecy, a message suddenly began to splash across the page. The scrawl was huge and angry, the letters drawn in big blocks.

Get that boy out of the palace! Get him out!

A line snaked across the page. Verna sat up straighter. It was obvious that Nathan had taken the stylus away from Ann and had written the message, and Ann was in the process of getting it back. There was another long pause, and at last Ann’s handwriting appeared again.

Sorry. Verna, if you are certain that you remember the prophecy, word for word, then write it down so we may see it. If you are unsure of any of it, tell me. This is important.

I remember it word for word, as it pertains to me, Verna wrote. It says:

“When the Prelate and the prophet are given to the Light in the sacred rite, the flames will bring to boil a cauldron of guile and give ascension to a false Prelate, who will reign over the death of the Palace of the Prophets. To the north, the one bonded to the blade will abandon it for the silver sliph, for he will breathe her back to life, and she will deliver him into the arms of the wicked.”

There was another pause. Hold, please, while Nathan and I study this.

Verna sat and waited. The bugs outside chirped, and the frogs peeped. Verna stood, keeping an eye to the book, and stretched her back as she yawned. Still, there was no message. She sat and rested her chin in her fist, and her eyes drooped as she waited.

At last, a message began to appear.

Nathan and I have been going over this, and Nathan says that it is an immature prophecy, and because of that, he cannot fully decipher it.

Ann, I am the false Prelate. It troubles me greatly that this prophecy says I will reign over the death of the palace.

An immediate message came back. You are not the false Prelate in this prophecy.

Then what does it mean?

There was a shorter pause this time. We do not know its full meaning, but we do know that you are not the false Prelate named in it.

Verna, listen carefully. Warren must leave the palace. It is too dangerous for him to remain any longer. He must go into hiding. He could be seen leaving in the night. Tomorrow morning, have him go into the city on the pretense of an errand. In the confusion of people it will be hard for anyone to follow him. Have him get away through that confusion. Give him gold so he will not have any trouble doing what he needs.

Verna put a hand to her heart as she gulped a breath. She bent back over the book. But Prelate, Warren is the only one I can trust. I need him. I don’t know the prophecies like he does, and will be lost without him. She left unsaid that he was her only friend, the only friend she could trust.

Verna, the prophecies are in danger. If they get their hands on a prophet The hastily scribbled message halted abruptly. After a moment it resumed, more carefully written. He must get away. Do you understand?

Yes, Prelate. I will see to it first thing in the morning. Warren will do as I ask. I will trust in your instructions, that it is more important for him to leave, than to aid me.

Thank you Verna.

Ann, what is the danger to the prophecies?