Role

Chapter 4

Merigan gathered his silks up and grunted as he bent and lifted the large
crate at his feet. It jostled in his arms with a bright tinkling sound, and a
dreadful smell arose from within. He wrinkled his nose, but smiled all the
same.

There was no more need for this paltry collection of poisons that he had
brought from his family's House to the Palace. He had been blessed by Rillan,
and one drop of his blood was more noxious than the entire toxin collection he
had gathered carefully in his youth.

When Rillan had bestowed his blessing upon him, at first the pain had been
agonizing, alternating fire and lightning in his veins. But as his control
over it had grown, it was not pain but a fiery rapture, almost sensuous.

He dumped the wooden crate into a gully near the Balator fields, a shattering
sound breaking the stillness, and looked out at the horizon, stars twinkling
above the cropfields and copses of trees. His faith in Rillan had proven
strong, and he had climbed the ranks of the Empire quickly. He had feigned
obsequiousness to all, but only the Dread Lord had truly commanded respect.
Daerys had proven a capable leader, and Merigan had decided to hitch his
proverbial wagon to him. A necromancer was a formidable ally, and Daerys was
efficient in his orders, and deadly in battle.

As for the High Priest, Merigan had finally been admitted an audience, and
even fought side by side against the waning servants of Fortress with him. The
High Priest was capable enough, sure. But a healer of Joihe leading the Divine
Sect? Merigan would have none of it. The High Priest, through age or lack of
focus, did not wake from his bed enough, nor command the respect of the
Imperial legions. Merigan would depose him soon, as was only proper. A priest
of Lord Rillan should lead the Divine - and would, to victory. The former High
Priest would be graciously allowed to remain within the Sect, but on a tight,
firm leash.

Merigan grinned, his pearly-white, straight teeth flashing in the darkness, as
he held up a finger to eye level. He concentrated upon his faith in Rillan,
and a single drop of hissing, black venom formed upon the tip.

"Soon," he whispered.