to destroy it. My fault, true. But on the whole, I consider Volis's death to be as great a benefit to me as the temple was a loss. He was getting too ambitious, too curious. He knew too much.
The destruction of the Secret Path in Taela, though, was a much greater loss, but I am not at fault there. No one could have expected that Tier, who was not even a Mage, could destroy in a matter of months what had taken me centuries to build. No one.
It took the whole of humanity, wizards and warriors, to bring down the Unnamed King. I, who will become so much more than He was, will not have it said that I was brought to my knees by a farmer.
I burn with the humiliation of it yet.
I could have defeated them - a ragtag band of Travelers and a Sept's personal army would have been no match for the power I wield. But it would have been the first step in a war that I do not want. What good is it to rule the world when there is no world to rule? That is a question that the Unnamed King should have asked himself. But, I suppose by then he had already burned away most of who he once was and become nothing but an outlet for the Stalker's power. I have a better plan.
I can repair the damage. Rebuild the temple, rebuild my Secret Path. The destruction was not as great as it would seem: there are always ambitious men who will serve me. Tier has caused me no permanent setback; he is not so important.
But he must be punished for what he has done, what his family has done. He will wish he were dead before I am through with him. Perhaps I shall grant his wish.
Chapter 1
"Get that bucket filled for me, Lorra. Tole, bring more charcoal." Aliven knew his voice was harsh, but the world was a harsh place, with no room for people who did not work.
He watched out of the corner of his eye as his daughter snatched the wooden bucket from its place near the forge and left the smithy at a brisk walk for the well.
He would lose her soon, he thought, as he sorted through his store of metal. He'd two offers for her hand from neighboring farmers, but she hadn't made up her mind yet. He hoped she chose Daneel, who was soft-spoken and old enough to have proved his mettle, but she'd been showing a preference for Sovernt's youngest.
He would be happy to see her settled with either, though it would leave him only Tole and Nona, neither of whom was big enough to carry the bucket full of water or half a dozen other chores required to keep the smithy running.
"Step up, Tole," he said to his son, who had only half filled the forge coal bed. "The morning won't wait on your dawdling."
"Yes, Da," muttered the boy in a tone just this side of insolence.
"You watch your - "
Lorra's shrill scream cut through his voice.
"It doesn't look like much of a village, Papa," said Lehr.
Tier smiled at his youngest son, who had somehow crossed over from boy to man these past few months. His ash-blond hair, a legacy of his mother's people, was mostly tucked under a hat, but anyone with an eye to see could tell that there was Traveler blood in him.
Lehr's long strides had no trouble keeping up with Skew, though Tier's old warhorse was walking briskly. Tier shifted in his saddle, hoping to alleviate the steady ache in his right knee. He might believe the adage that any wound that hurt was a sign he wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy it. He took a deep breath of cool forest air to remind himself that he was free and on his way home: a little pain was a small price to pay.
He squinted at the small cluster of buildings in the little green valley. "It's small, but see that first building? There's a kiln behind it. It's either a pottery or a bakery."
"But, Papa," said Tier's older son Jes, who walked on Tier's other side, "Benroln said we need grain, not pots or bread."
"Very true," agreed Tier. "But so near to a great road, they will have trade goods, too."
"There are farms all around here," explained Lehr. "They'll bring grain here where they'll see higher profits from it than if