"I didn't have any problems with the authorities for these murders. However, my peace of mind did not last long. One night, an assassin broke into my room and tried to kill me in my sleep; unfortunately for him, the service at the front have given me the habit of sleeping with a dagger. After slaying him, I discovered on his body the characteristic black patterns of Burdahan's men, a known trafficker in the slums. It is his organisation that runs the 'dream powder' business. Everyone knows it and whispers it with fear, but no one dares to accuse him openly: Burdahan is a great and powerful trader, it is said that he supplies treasures to K'lim himself.

 "To antagonise Burdahan is to condemn yourself to death, as you can see," he added cynically. "This man sent several assassins after me, all 'dreamers'; I was able to get rid of some of them, but I had to stay hidden the rest of the time. The merchant then made a grave mistake: he went after my foster father to flush me out – the poor man perished in terrible torment. By doing this, he had already signed his death warrant, but he was unaware of it. As I was still nowhere to be found, giving up the idea of eliminating me with his own hands, the scoundrel invoked justice for the murder of his subordinates."

"And you ended up here," murmured Thalia.

"No, that's not how it happened," replied the horseman. "I didn't show up for the summons. I ambushed him on his way to the trial. Have you ever seen Burdahan? He was more of a creature than a man, fat and hideous, always dressed as a lord with a gold ring on each finger. His thunderous laughter, recognizable among a thousand, was bloodcurdling. He never went out without a very young girl under each arm, probably 'dreamers' too. He lived surrounded by guards who were as fanatical as they were subjugated by his drug. A man even more detestable than his relentlessness against me would suggest.

"I was then perched on a roof. I had my bow with me. I aimed at his skull. The bolt hit his temple and he fell dead. Before the guards could react, I also eliminated his eldest son, present in his entourage and proud heir to his evil trade. With this act I avenged my father, my friend Hadam, this nameless woman and many other victims we will never know of.

"The crowd howled in horror. After all, Burdahan was favoured by the king. The fear of terrible reprisals from the Inquisitor was legitimate if nothing was done. I was quickly spotted, identified and dragged to the gates of the prison where my former friends and brothers-in-arms chained me with their own hands and promised me an early execution. The same people who had also seen Hadam's heart burst in his chest. Yes, I acted against the principles of the gods and the laws of my king, I killed individuals from my people without the sanction of justice, but I have rid this country of bloodthirsty and despicable scumbags who were allowed to live peacefully. I believe that even if I went through the twelve hells[1], I would not regret my deeds. What do our creators think, High Priestess?"

He looked up at Thalia, his eyes suddenly bright with hope, as if his previously dull soul had been revived. The High Priestess felt unease creep over her. He wanted divine absolution, and she had the power to give it to him. He must have had immeasurable faith in her impartiality, to confess so knowing that she was not merely the intermediary of the gods, but also the daughter of the Inquisitor who had approved his death. Thalia hesitated. All she had to do was say, "The gods support you". His salvation depended on it.

The girl closed her eyes and asked the creators to dictate the answer; but she heard nothing but the muffled beating of her heart and her unsteady breathing. Why didn't they give her a sign in the midst of the commotion? She tried to think quickly, by herself. This man had killed, yes, but not without reason. He had been hunted and had defended himself. His vengeful act had brought down two traffickers and saved victims from certain oppression. Even if he deserved to be punished for his crimes, should he climb to the scaffold? His confession sounded sincere. Thalia could decide to revise her father's punishment to make it less severe and final. But in the girl's skull the religious precepts resounded, including that of the god Ball: "YOU SHALL NOT KILL OUR WORSHIPERS WITHOUT THE HAND OF JUSTICE".

By murdering citizens in his bloodthirsty quest, the prisoner had broken this sacred agreement. So, responding to her function as High Priestess and putting her heart aside, she took the hand of the condemned man. It was forbidden, but neither of them took notice.

"I will pray for you tomorrow at the execution".

Lucas Amia Verdon's eyes lost their sparkle as he realised that his last hope was gone. He closed his eyes and sighed slowly. It was as if life had already left him. After a few moments, he thanked her and asked for a blessing, which she granted him. Looking resigned, he let himself be carried away by the other two other soldiers.

Thalia could not sleep. Although she used various means known to all, Fraven, the god of rest, would not welcome her into his kingdom. In truth, not a second passed without the prisoner's dejected face appearing in her mind and weighing her down with terrible guilt. Yet she had fulfilled her duties, as always, like so many others before her. How did judges managed to look at themselves after sending condemned men to the scaffold? She tried to convince herself that the guilt would be temporary, that she had simply been seduced by the young man's speech. After all, criminals were known to try to make themselves look good in order to escape death. How was Lucas Amia Verdon different from these smooth talkers? Yet her heart felt that the prisoner had told her the truth. This filled her with displeasure, for while she knew she had done her duty as a priestess, she felt she had failed as a human being. This distinction was new to her. Today, to fulfil a precept, she was going to have a man killed who perhaps deserved the whip or the prison, but by no means the sabre.

Every time she thought about it, Thalia pulled herself together: no, she had done according to the divine will. Killing one's own kind, outside the paths paved by the law, was a crime. But immediately the same thought struck her: wasn't she committing murder, too? Even if the judges had chosen the sentence, even if the king had approved it, and even if it was the executioner who would bring down the sabre... Was it not with her consent that he was to be killed? Thalia was too pure to bear it.

As the moon reached its peak, the girl slipped out of her room. She was still wondering, within herself, what madness she was getting into. But it was too late to turn back and her legs carried her further down the corridor. A few minutes later she found herself in the princely quarters, which were sparsely guarded that evening. Trying the paradox of being discreet and audible at the same time, Thalia knocked on her elder brother's door. Nare soon opened the door defiantly, a dagger glinting in the back of his side, before displaying pure surprise when he saw his younger sister on his doorstep, shivering in her light nightgown. He opened the door wider. Thalia noticed a feminine silhouette waiting in her brother's bed, which perhaps explained the absence of guards at that moment. Nare's wife was the princess of Amiresh, a small kingdom whose narrow borders laid between Dana and Bonse. But she had returned to her homeland to visit her sick father, and Dana's laws forbade polygamy and adultery. It was obvious that the crown prince was flirting with this law and this mysterious lady at the same time. However, Thalia refrained from making the slightest remark, knowing that she would be much more at fault than him if her exit was revealed. Moreover, she did not want to offend her brother, whose help she wanted.

"My sister, what...," began Nare, her eyebrows furrowed with the same expression of sternness and wrath as their father.

"My brother, escort me to the prison," Thalia asked breathlessly. "The one for those condemned to death."

"Is my hearing failing me? What right have you to give me orders? Since when do you speak to me familiarly and forget to kneel before me? Do you think I am at your disposal to satisfy your childish curiosity in the middle of the night? Go back to the temple or tomorrow the king will hear of your nocturnal escapades."

"I beg you, K'warith-ma[2]!" pleaded Thalia, raising her voice a little higher and kneeling hastily, not having time to give him all the obsequiousness intended for the heir to the throne –  after all, he didn't bother to give her proper deference either. "I have made a grave mistake today, in the performance of my duty, and Fraven will give me no rest until I make amends. I need you to accompany me to the prison. Our little brother Lucas is not yet an adult and I cannot leave the temple without a man of the family..." As for soliciting the king... she didn't dare to consider it, and her elder sibling didn't suggest the idea either.

"Can't it wait until the morning? You are bothering me."

"He will be killed at the first hour! Please, K'warith-ma," she repeated, bowing her head to the ground, "help me and you can return to your mistress as soon as we return."

Nare frowned his bushy eyebrows, jaws clenched.. Was his youngest sister blackmailing him, threatening to bring shame on him by revealing his profane encounters to the entire court? He probed her with his gaze, thoughtfully rubbing his short beard, as their father did. No... Thalia was probably not cunning enough for that. Besides, he had never seen her so desperate as to forget propriety. The matter must be of the utmost importance, and it was urgent to protect her reputation as High Priestess before the marriage was sealed with the Corentians. With a strained curse he ordered her to wait outside the room while he readied himself.