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DRAGONLANCEVillains Volume 4HEDERICK THE THEOCRATby Ellen Dodge SeversonThis book is lovingly dedicatedto the memory ofWilliam Olmand Max Earl Porath

PrologueAstinus, leader of the Order of Aesthetics, surveyed the three apprentice scribes before him. Thehistorian's face, as usual, wore the expression of a man taken unwillingly from his beloved work forsomething annoyingly trivial.The three scribes, a middle-aged woman and two younger men, shifted from foot to foot beneath hisgaze and darted cautious glances at each other. Each was sure the other two possessed extraordinarytraining and expertise. Each was sure that it was his or her mere presence in the Great LibraryofPalanthas that had brought the dissatisfied gleam to Astinus's eyes. They all were convinced thattheir own appointments as apprentices to the premier historian on Krynn would soon be found to bea mistake. All that work, all those years of preparation and study, would be found inadequate. Theywere unworthy. Each steeled for disappointment, afraid of being sent home in humiliation tobecome a store clerk or street vendor.In truth, Astinus was not annoyed with the apprentices but merely anxious to be back at work,writing down the history of Krynn as it occurred. Even as he stood here assessing the guardedexpressions of these three, details of fact were going unrecorded in the scrolls of the Great Library.It was difficult to catch up once one was behind, as Astinus knew only too well; it was almost betterto skip what one had missed in one's absence and go on to pen whatever was happening at themoment. Unlike the other scribes, who worked in shifts, Astinus had never been known to sleep orto step away from his work for more than a few minutes. There were some among his helpers whowhispered that Astinus was no mortal, for hadn't his name been found upon scrolls dating backthousands of years? Unless, they speculated, every chief historian's name, since the beginning oftime, had been Astinus.Actually, Astinus was well-pleased with this crop of apprentices. These three, however they quailedbefore him now, had come on the highest recommendations of Astinus's far-flung advisers. Theyneeded only seasoning, he'd been told, before they could take their places among Astinus's dozensof assistants in the Order of Aesthetics.What was needed was a task that would test their ability to cooperate as well as to chronicle history,Astinus thought as the three suffered silently before him. It must be something, of course, that thehistorian could check for accuracy against his own knowledge of events as they unfolded. Henarrowed his eyes and nodded as he surveyed the trio. "Hederick," he murmured. "That's it." Thescribes exchanged more glances, each wondering which of the others was named Hederick."Sir?" the middle-aged woman finally ventured. She had the pale ashen complexion commonamong those who spent their lives prowling through the dimly lit corridors of libraries. She was ofmedium height and average build and wore her brown hair gathered with a simple length of blueyarn at the nape of herneck. She wore the same type of sleeveless, togalike outfit that the other two wore—indeed, thatAstinus himself wore. "Sir," she said again hesitantly, "is there something we.?"The remaining two apprentices lost no time interrupting the woman's query. In this competition fora coveted position in the Great Library ofPalanthas, none wanted to be left at the starting line. "Youhave a task for us, master?" broke in the younger of the two men, a tall, red-haired youth withcreamy skin, copious freckles, and blue eyes."We stand waiting to serve you," interjected the other man. He had eyes as black as his curly hairand skin the color of cinnamon, marking a sharp contrast to the youth beside him.Suddenly, all three apprentices were speaking at once.A new frown descended over Astinus's already stern features, and the three apprentices faltered intheir chatter. "You are delaying me," Astinus declared in irritation. "Give me your names, quickly,that I may sort you out and assign you tasks. And be brisk about it."

"Marya," replied the woman."Olven," the dark-haired man said proudly."Eban," the redheaded youth answered last."Fine," Astinus said, noting their names for inclusion in his history of the Great Library. "Your task,then, is this: to chronicle the doings of a man named Hederick, recently named High Theocrat ofSolace. I believe the scheming of this man will someday have great import in Krynn." Hispenetrating stare raked the three aspiring historians. "First you will research Hederick's past and setit out. You, Eban, will take charge of that." The youth stood up straighter and cast a triumphant looktoward the other two.Astinus went on, "All of you are students enough to grasp that without knowing a man or woman'spast, it is impossible to understand that person's present.""Oh, yes," said Eban."Certainly," Marya chimed."Without a doubt," Olven added."You two"—Astinus thrust his chin at Marya and Olven— "will concentrate on recording thepresent exploits of High Theocrat Hederick." He pointed to a wooden desk in the corner of thelibrary. "One of you—and you, too, Eban, when you complete your research—will be seated at thatdesk at all times, day or night. This spot must never be empty."Three pairs of eyes widened, but the historian continued speaking regardless of their surprise."History occurs in times of darkness as well as at noon, as you all know. Even now, events aresweeping on unrecorded as you dally here."Eban gasped and swept up a scrap of parchment and a quill pen from a counter. He scurriedbetween two stacks of books and was gone. Astinus marked the red-haired youth's industry. Surelythe background material would be ready soon at that pace, he thought with satisfaction.Astinus made his way to the door of the Great Library. "I leave it to you to decide how you willdivide the day," he said over his shoulder to Marya and Olven. "Whoever is not recording currentlytranspiring events should help Eban with his research, for that must go first in your written account,of course. Now I must return to my tasks.""Ah. sir?" Olven said quickly. "A question? Quickly?"Astinus halted, his hand on the doorjamb.Olven cleared his throat and looked embarrassed. "How will we know what's happening now, sothat we may record it?" the man asked."After all, it hasn't been written down anywhere yet," Marya added helpfully. "And it appears thatyou want us to stay here. In the library, I mean."Astinus, expressionless, gazed at the two for a long, silent moment, then the briefest of smilescrossed the historian's face."Sit at the desk," the historian said. "You will see, soon enough. If you are meant to work here."Then he was gone.Marya looked at Olven, who gazed back at her. They both swiveled about to thoughtfully survey thepadded chair drawn up before the desk."It looks ordinary enough," Marya said in a small voice. Just a chair.Olven nodded. "Magic, do you think?" he whispered "Has Astinus ensorceled us without ourknowledge?"Marya shrugged, but swallowed twice before going on Maybe. You go first."Olven bit his lips, took a deep breath, and slid into the chair.

Chapter 1The scream invaded Hederick's very bones and blood, coming from nowhere and everywhere.The sound reverberated again. Hederick raced across the prairie toward a grove of trees, where hissister Ancilla had hidden ten years earlier. He was still quite a distance away—too far, by the godTiolanthe! Feet pounded behind him, and with them, thunderclap after thunderclap from theapproaching storm.Time after time, Hederick stamped on jagged rocks and stumbled over upthrust roots. Bloodstainedfootprints marked his passage.Then trees loomed. Hederick dove into Ancilla's Copse as though it were a church and Hederick apenitent—as though whatever tracked him dared not enter such a holy place.His lungs burned. His ribs ached. The boy landed facedown in soft dampness and tensed for the crythat would tell him the creature was upon him. But there was silence; only an intermittent poppingsound broke the hush of the glade.Hederick sat up warily and peered around in the flickering light. Large trees with rough barktowered over him, interspersed with saplings that thrust upward through the ferns. The rich smell ofhickory mingled with the odors of fragrant moss and moist soil. Surrounded by dark shapes thatseemed to dance in the wind of the approaching storm, the boy fearfully scanned one shadow afteranother.The yellow eyes of a gigantic lynx glared at him.The dappled brown beast was easily ten feet from nose to bobbed tail. The great cat crouchedfifteen feet above him, wedged in the crotch of a tree. Its eyes were enormous, forelegs heavy,padded feet huge.Thunder shattered.The lynx and Hederick screamed at the same instant."Begone!" A sword appeared above the boy, interposed between his crouching body and the giantpredator. Red light played on the weapon's edge. A gauntleted hand grasped the hilt; an arm cordedwith muscular sinew held the blade steady. Hederick sat, powerless with fear.The lynx screamed again, and the hand tightened on the hilt. "Leave us, cat!" came that samebooming voice. The lynx tensed to spring, and the man swore fervently, invoking gods Hederickhad never heard of. Just as the giant feline leaped, the man's other hand swept up, raising a flamingtorch.Light exploded. Red and yellow sparks burned pinpricks into the ferns. The lynx twisted away inmidleap and crashed through a maple sapling and onto the ground off to one side. The man droppedthe torch and whirled to meet the cat, sword ready, his body between the boy and the lynx.Then Hederick was up. His left hand caught up the sputtering torch from the wet moss, and he ranto the man's side, bellowing a battle cry. Hederick threw anything and everything his right handcould grasp. Rocks, branches, leaves, mud, moss—all were hurtled toward the snarling lynx.His tall rescuer remained poised with his sword. "By the New Gods, the boy's feisty!" the man said.The only thing left was the torch; Hederick prepared to throw that as well. The man swore again,fumbled at his belt, and tossed something at the cat just as the boy released the fiery brand.Another explosion of scarlet and topaz flashed through the trees. Bigger and louder than the last, itknocked Hederick flat on his back. When the smoke cleared, there was no sign of the lynx."Did we kill it?" Hederick could barely get the words out. His tongue seemed stuck to the roof ofhis mouth.The man sheathed his sword and laughed uproariously, then shook his head. "By the New Gods,that pussycat must be halfway to the Garnet Mountains by now! If her feet touch the ground everysix furlongs, if 11 be a miracle."Hederick shook uncontrollably. Blood streamed into his eyes from a cut on his forehead. "It's still