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and regal man. He had been the best friend of the late High
King, and now continued to support Jameson as loyally as he had his
father. His hair was completely white, and a long beard reached
down almost to the middle of his chest. He wore the robes of the
priesthood, the dark blue bringing out the deep blue of his eyes.
His nose was long and crooked, a result of an accident from his
time in the army as a youth. Most men who became priests did so
because they weren’t cut out for the King’s army. Although that
could not be said of the High Priest—he was as great a warrior as
he was a spiritual leader—he insisted the church life had been
better suited for him than one of fighting. Elisa’s father had a
close relationship with him as well, so he had always been like
another father to her.
    “Come sit down, my dear,” he said, gesturing
to a chair. “I have made tea and set up my chessboard. Let us have
a quick game.”
    During her first year of training, she would
come here on a daily basis to play chess with Alistair. Back in the
days when she was still too young for the blood offerings, she
could come and go as she pleased. He told her that chess was a good
mind exercise, which would help her in her training. It would teach
her to think strategically, and always plan her moves ahead of
time, while still anticipating and watching those of her opponent.
He was right, of course.
    Walking over to the small table that sat by
the window, she settled down for a long stay. Their games would
normally go a long time. His chamber was a large room, the walls a
warm beige stone. A large fireplace covered the west wall, which
was always filled with a comforting flame. The bed sat against the
opposite wall, with two chairs at the end, facing the hearth. Past
his bed was the large window, which looked out into the sanctuary’s
gardens. A small chess table sat there, made of glass, with the
pieces all carved from green marble. The set had been handcrafted
by the Sand People in the deserts, a gift to the High Priest.
    The two of them began to play in silence,
Elisa waiting for him to bring up the subject that hung in the air
between them. Finally, after ten minutes of concentration, he
looked up at her and smiled.
    “Won’t you ask me why you’re here?”
    “I didn’t want to seem disrespectful,” she
shrugged back. “I figured you either wanted someone to play a game
of chess with, in which case there was nothing to talk about, or
you were waiting for the appropriate time, which I was leaving to
your discretion.”
    “Why are you always so politically correct?”
he asked, sitting back with a smug look.
    She smiled at him. “I had good teachers.” He
laughed out loud then, and nodded his head in agreement.
    His face turned suddenly serious, and he
leaned closer to her. His voice was lower as he spoke. “I have a
job I need done, and your father and I have agreed that you are the
one to do it.”
    Excitement began to build inside her, as
well as pride. It was not every day that her father or Alistair
would think to send a woman on a mission over a man. Especially
something that appeared to her to be important. He explained the
mission to her, and told her when she should go. After all the
details had been explained, they continued their game in silence.
He won, of course: after all the games they had played, she had yet
to win one.
    “Go in peace, my dear.” He placed a hand on
her shoulder before she left.
    “I will, Alistair.” She smiled, placing one
of her hands over his. The priest who waited outside for her, the
same one who had led her there when she arrived, sucked in his
breath, most likely in shock when she addressed the High Priest so
informally. Neither of them took notice.
    “Be safe,” he said kindly. She nodded her
head, and left with the other man.
    Now as she sat at the base of a tree, she
thought again about how lucky she was to have been given the task
she now carried out. Her father had been