"So we meet again, your majesty," he said, and bowed. There was little mockery in his tones; he seemed straightforward and businesslike.
Hildaborg did not answer. She stood with her beauteous form in its ragged soldier's tunic pressed against the wall. Her sweat-dampened black hair clung to her forehead, fell down her shoulders in a shining wave. In the restless torchlight, her face was white and drawn, streaked with blood and dirt and the tracks of tears, but she gave the High Priest glance for glance and her lips were steady.
Therokos looked Alfric's tall form up and down. "And so you are the conqueror of the prophecy," he murmured. "A mighty man—but just how did you think you could do it? Who are your allies in the city? What was your plan?"
"I am Alfric of Aslak, and I came here without friends or plan, knowing nothing of any prophecy," answered the barbarian coldly. "And you are a misbegotten son of a she-garm, with whose head I will yet play football."
"Come now," said Therokos softly, "surely you do not expect me to believe you are here by mere chance? Your cause is lost, you are doomed, but you can save yourself the inquisition and die easily if you will tell us what you know."
"I know nothing, you jerrad!"
"You may know more after the inquisitioners have worked on you awhile," said Therokos coldly. Then turning to Hildaborg, his voice suddenly rich and warm, throbbing with love and pity: "My lady, my lady, you do not know how I regret this. That the Empress of Valkarion should, even for dire necessity, be thus humiliated is the greatest sorrow of my life."
Hildaborg's lip curled. "I see you weeping," she said coldly.
"But I do, my lady—my heart is ashes within me. Only need drove me to this—and it is not yet too late to repent, your majesty. What the Moons have taken, the Moons can restore.
"Surely, my lady," said Therokos reasonably, "you can see the absolute necessity of my actions. Under the law, you could not rule, and there was no Imperial heir. Without a strong hand, leaderless Valkarion would have split under the quarreling of the nobles and the lawlessness of the commons, easy prey for barbarian enemies such as this man—and the Sibyl's warning would have come true. With the Imperium gone, the Temple, sole remaining pillar of Valkarion, must bear the burden of state."