By Robert Silverberg
Suffering from nightmares of Majipoor besieged through blizzards and earthquakes, Lord Valentine believes those omens sign an encroaching struggle among his humans and the Shapeshifters who as soon as governed the planet. for hundreds of years they've got conspired to regain their stolen global and lately, they have been came across impersonating contributors of the kingdom's internal circle.
Since coming to strength, Valentine has made peaceable overtures to the Shapeshifters, activities that experience many within the royal courtroom wondering his reasons and loyalties—and led them to think about removal him from his governing tasks in order that he may perhaps ascend to the better ceremonial place of work of Pontifex.
But if Valentine accepts the mantle of Pontifex and surrenders his place to his successor-in-waiting, he can be remembered as a pace-setter who refrained from his responsibilities—and shattered the peace that has reigned for 8 thousand years...
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Additional resources for Valentine Pontifex (Majipoor: Lord Valentine, Book 3)
Drekkenoth leaned forth. " Dennagon hated rhetorical questions, especially when they did not address the true issue at talon. Drekkenoth ranted on, yet his voice commanded a respect that shielded its rambling attribute from consciousness. "The future must be heeded. There is not much time left in t his Wor l d . C a n y o u f e e l the e s s e n c e in t h e air, the uncha nging f a t e of the World that shall draw it to its inescapable end? The future must be heeded, for the rise of Totality is coming.
Dennagon shook his head, petrified. "They have retained the avarice and alignment of the humans, but are not at a ll human anymore. Far more powerful are their souls. Should we attack, they will bring us to death as the waves bring shored stones to the ocean. Speak you to me about the future? I am an eternal ancient. I have had many, many futures . " It was the first time he had ever heard Drekkenoth speak in such a way, yet the perfunctory inflection of his voice still did not change. Nor did his faceless visage appear to display any emotion still.
Trigonometry and dynamics shuffled in his consciousness, guiding him with the mathematics of physical laws so tha t he could optimize his efficiency. To his aggravation, hordes of comrades bustled past him, jarring him from side to side as he tried to catch the plummeting entity that could devastate the entire legion. Enraged, he shouted. "GET OUT OF MY WAY! " In the rumbling night, he could hardly hear his own words. Nevertheless, he sheathed his blade and started punching sentries that were stupid enough to get in his path, making certain that they were clear of the potential l y expl osive r a n g e o f the descending e n e m y proj ectile.