Pallian was deeply asleep when the image of his father's face formed above the pedestal just to the right of his door. He snapped awake when it spoke his name, rolled off the bed, and knelt. "Father," he said. "I hear and obey."
He tried to, anyway. His throat was dry, and the words came out in a mumbled croak. His father barely seemed to notice.
"The Black Knight will attend the Wizard-King at the fallen city of Marinul. We will join our forces with those of Edrias when we arrive, and you will lead the search for this emissary."
"I hear and obey," Pallian said, lowering his head in acknowledgement of his father's rank and power.
"Depart immediately, then. The carriage has its instructions already." The image winked out.
Pallian rose, still in his smallclothes, and drew on shirt, pants, belt, and boots. He didn't hurry, but neither did he delay; he kept his movements deliberate as he waited for his body to shake off the weight of sleep. He didn't need to be fully alert just yet, but he couldn't afford to be logy, either.
He was halfway to the chapel before he realized that he had left the glowstone lights behind in his chambers, and the halls of the crypt were pitch-dark. Stupid, clumsy... Pallian Teres should not be able to see without light, and if he could then nobody else should be allowed to realize it. His survival depended on his father never learning that he had gone to visit the Grandmother, and been changed by her. Fortunately, none of the servants had seen him...
...Until now. Someone was approaching with a glowstone lamp. Pallian moved back, found a door, and slipped into it.
It was a linen closet. Wooden shelves were set just inside the walls and loaded with folded cloth, and baskets of bes-rice had been set out to pull the moisture from the air. More importantly, there was a sconce just inside the door; a glowstone waited beneath a simple wooden cover for some harried servant to uncover it and so light the room.
Pallian stood in the dark and watched the light pass by outside the door; then he lifted the wooden cover and claimed the glowstone underneath. The servitors would replace it as soon as someone realized it was missing, and now he could continue his journey to the chapel without giving himself away.
Better, he decided. Much better. He opened the closet door, and found himself face to face with one of the servitors.
He managed not to shriek, but it was a near thing. Fortunately, this one was dead; it would not say anything about his actions or his presence here. It might even set a replacement stone itself. But that was also why it was carrying a stack of linens along a night-black hallway; the dead had no need of light to find their way. They knew this place as the living never could.
He stepped around it and continued on. He needed to be wearing the armor and climbing into the carriage right now; his father might notice even the slightest delay.
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