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The cleric left me and I looked around the small prayer room. It was very austere, very quiet. I recast my glamorie, in case anyone should accidentally enter the room. I could not be discovered now. I was too close to something. However, as I sat there, I was forced to wonder if Krolaun was all right. The Tyberan were not kind to Outsiders; they might even attack him. I fretted, thinking about all the possible mishaps that could befall the elf. Tybis was a dangerous place for me, but that made it doubly so for the strange, elven foreigner.I became restless in my solitude, and began pacing the small room. The only way to tell the passing of time was by the candles and the melting of the wax. At one point, a soft knock sounded upon the door and I opened it. An alcolyte inquired as to any of my needs, and I only asked him for a pitcher of something cold to drink. These were fasting chambers, and no food would be permitted in them. He obeyed instantly, bringing me a small carafe of some chilled fruitwine. I thanked him quietly and he went on his way. I drank the soothing liquid, still pacing. What if the Brother had been caught?
To prove false my thought, the door opened behind me, and the cleric re-entered the room. He looked at me, his eyes dark with concern. He sat and poured himself a glass of the fruitwine, taking a sip of it. I regarded him, not wanting to demand what he had discovered. Let him tell it in his own time.
"This is not good," he said.
I looked at him curiously, "What do you mean?"
"Zhagon, Brion, and several others amid the Palace members are all under Commander Sharidia Ohlamvae's control."
Shard! I bit my lip and urged the cleric to tell me more.
"Zhagon would not tell me much, but he told me enough. He said it would be good to keep the clergymen aware, so that we would not offer sanctuary to the dark fiend that escaped the prison. He said that they searched for a pale-skinned, long-eared Outsider, for he was in league with one of the Nation's most deadly enemies; a Warrioress of the Veil who was still in possession of the Amulet of Bast."
At this point, he glanced at my neck and the silver Amulet of Bast that was there. I could feel the fear begin to well up in me. He's going to turn me in! He rose and stood before me, looking down at me, for he was taller than I was.
"You are that Warrioress, aren't you?"
I could not lie, "Yes," I stated simply.
"I do not understand. If you are the exile that they claim you to be, there is no way you could be in possession of a Blessing of Bast. He would not allow one who walked the Dark Paths to carry his Gift."
"Which is exactly why Sharidia no longer wears the Amulet," I said.
The cleric nervously scratched at the skin beneath his medallion, "I-I do not understand. The Commander walks the Dark Paths, and you, who are considered the evil one, are blessed by the Bright One. I do not understand--"
I nodded, "Perhaps it is best that you don't, Brother. I will leave you now. I would not wish to get you in trouble with the Priestmaster."
I left the confused cleric in the fasting chamber and quickly made my way out of the Temple. No one impeded my leaving, even at such a strange hour. As I exited, I knew that there was only one person left in this entire city that could help me.
Olan.
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© 1999 E. Angeli Mansfield
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