Free Wrath of a Mad God by Raymond E. Feist Page B

other gods of Midkemia to restore the proper order of things.”
    “We’re working on behalf of the Nameless One?” asked Nakor.
    “In a manner of speaking, yes,” replied Macros. “It is my belief that ultimately we all play a part in the Nameless One’s plans.”
    “That plan being?” asked Nakor.
    Macros’s expression became grimmer than before. “I believe we are seeing a struggle between gods, my friends. And I believe in some fashion we are weapons.”
    “Weapons?” echoed Magnus. “We are just three magicians and a…?” He glanced at Nakor.
    “Bek may be a weapon. There is little about him that is natural.”
    “There is a prophecy,” said Macros. “A Dasati lord will rebel against the TeKarana, and prepare the way for the Godkiller.”
    Pug said, “You think Bek…”
    “Is the weapon,” said Nakor. “It is almost certain.”
    “What I don’t know is if he is the weapon.” Macros coughed, fighting back the impulse even as Pug saw his chest tighten and the spasm hit him. When he finished, he said, “Even the lowest of the low would attack me if they saw such an overt sign of weakness.”
    A servant hurried in, and moments later a warrior in the garb of the Sadharin followed. “Master,” said the servant. “Something—”
    The soldier interrupted. “Word from Martuch. You must flee. Within the hour the announcement will come from the palace. At sundown we shall begin a Great Culling.”
    Macros drew himself up to his full height, his will overcoming his weakened body. “You know what to do,” he said to the servant. “Take only what you must and get our people to the closest sanctuary.”
    “Master,” said the servant, bowing his head and running off.
    To the soldier he said, “Return to Martuch and tell him tomeet me at the Grove of Delmat-Ama as soon as he is able. If possible, have him bring Valko and anyone else he thinks will serve. It is close to the time, I think.”
    The young warrior nodded respectfully, then hurried off. Macros said to himself, “Please the gods they survive.”
    Pug asked, “What is it?”
    Macros said, “Get your things. We leave within minutes. The TeKarana has called the Great Culling, and at sundown everyone within the Dasati Empire will have license to kill whomever they may. All truces are abated, all alliances put aside, murder is the will of His Darkness.”
    “What does it mean?” asked Magnus.
    Macros looked troubled. “It means the Dark God is hungry. It means the usual slaughter of his subjects is not enough to feed him. I fear it means he is ready to begin his invasion into the next realm.”
    Pug, Nakor, and Magnus exchanged glances. Nakor said, “What about Bek?”
    “He’s fine with Martuch,” answered Macros. “In some ways he is more Dasati than any Dasati Deathknight I’ve met. The next night and day will probably be the most fun he’s had in his life. I just hope he leaves Martuch alive.”
    “Why wouldn’t he?” asked Pug.
    “There are no allies or friends, save those arrangements made in the moment. Martuch and the other Lords of the Langradin will have safe houses and provisions put by close to the Langradin Great House, by habit if nothing more. But for most common people tonight is a bloody game of chance, and the prize is survival. If one can survive from sunset tonight until sunset tomorrow, the usual order will return. They may be bloody rules, but they’re rules.
    “But for one day there will be no rules. Want something that belongs to your neighbor, take it. Want to settle an old grudge with someone who is too well protected for you to attack, now’s the time. Or if you’re just ambitious and the death of a few better placed individuals in your own faction, your own battle society, or even your own family would benefit you, sharpen yourblades. Every death will be seen as a gift to His Darkness, and every murder a benediction.
    “Bands of Deathpriests and Hierophants will be on the streets in every town