The Pillars Of The World

easily to enjoy a handsome stranger, and the Evil One’s face is always handsome when he seduces such a woman. Once she has fornicated with evil, she will become the vessel that will be able to ensnare you . Stay vigilant, do your duty, and the Evil One will not be able to touch your families again.“
    The villagers shuffled their feet uneasily. There was fear in the women’s eyes, which satisfied Adolfo.
    He strode away from the pond, his Inquisitors following. He didn’t stop until he reached the inn. His carriage was out front, already loaded with his trunks. The guardsman, who was his new coachman, nodded to indicate everything was ready for the Master Inquisitor’s departure. A surly man who did not welcome conversation, Adolfo found him to be an adequate replacement for the previous coachman. The fool who had tried to trick him into being on the road during the Summer Moon was dead. One of those unfortunate accidents that could occur on an unfamiliar road in a strange country—especially when the accident was arranged.
    “It will be good to leave this place,” one of the younger Inquisitors said quietly, looking back toward the pond.
    “Yes, it will,” Adolfo replied.
    The young man looked at Adolfo with troubled eyes. “Master Adolfo, we have lost four of our brothers in the past few days, and others have been injured badly enough during the time we’ve been in this land that they’ve had to give up our great work.” He hesitated, then the rest of the words came out in a rush. “
    This isn’t our land. These aren’t our people, our families. Why do we have to be here?”
    Adolfo had wondered when that question would be asked. “We are here because of our land, our people, our families. If we do not cleanse this foul witch magic from Sylvalan, it can creep over the border and root again in Wolfram. There are already indications that the cleansing was not as thorough in Arktos as we had thought. You’ve already seen that the power here is stronger than anything we’ve stood against. The Evil One embraces many here.”
    He studied his men. They were already tired, and they were frightened. The Small Folk didn’t have more than what was considered mischief magic, but even that kind of magic could become deadly when the Small Folk banded together. They hadn’t been able to stop the cleansing of the witches from the Old Places simply because they hadn’t realized what was happening until it was too late. Even so, in Sylvalan they were a force to be reckoned with, and the Fae’s presence was stronger here as well. He had no doubt that this land could be cleansed of the magic that kept men from their rightful place as master and ruler, but the work was proving to be more dangerous here.
    “The safety of Wolfram rests on our shoulders. We cannot put down the task we have been given.
    However, from now on, you must work in pairs so that you can keep watch for each other. You will continue your search for the witches. But seek only the witches. Do not concern yourselves with the females who embrace the witch’s ways and do not conduct themselves with proper chasteness and modesty. They have no true magic and can be dealt with later. Use the power of the Inquisitor’s Gift to seek out the real witches. Crush their magic swiftly, and go on before anything has time to rally against you. At the end of the summer, we will all meet again at Rivercross—and we will go home for the cold months of winter. We will go home to rest and regain our strength so that we may continue our great battle against the Evil One and his whores.”
    He had said the right thing, Adolfo decided as he saw the determination in his Inquisitors’ eyes. They would cleanse the eastern border of Sylvalan to keep Wolfram, their homeland, safe. Then they would go home. And he would never tell them that it wasn’t consideration or concern for them that had decided him; it was the woman on the dark horse who had ridden out of the woods and snatched his nephew’s spirit from his body. He knew the stories about the Fae who were called Death’s Servants. They could guide a spirit that had already left the dead flesh, but they couldn’t take it while the flesh still lived. But there was one who was Death’s Mistress, one who could ride through a village and leave nothing but corpses in her wake. Having Death’s Servants picking around like crows on a battlefield was one thing; having the Gatherer become curious about the deaths