"My Lord Ariakas, welcome! Welcome to our temple! We have long been expecting you, but now that you are here the occasion transcends mere words! I trust your journey to Sanction was, er, without major mishap? One could can hardly expect to call it 'pleasant,' I suppose."
The bombardment of words took the warrior by sur shy;prise, but he saw nothing beyond honest welcome in the man's round, guileless face.
"Forgive me," the fellow continued. "I am Wryllish Parkane, High Priest of the temple. I will personally see to the majority of your studies … though of course you will have the freedom of all the specialists, as need arises. We have a personal chamber ready for you, beyond the audience hall, where you entered. Perhaps you would like to freshen up a bit before I give you a tour of the temple?"
Stubbornly Ariakas shook his head, stunned by the extent of the priesf s knowledge, and his plans. He felt a sudden reluctance to immerse himself in his new role, though he knew it was too late to change his mind. "That won't be necessary," declared Ariakas, determined to retrieve some momentum. "I have quarters in the city where I will live, and I came here from there. As to the tour, however, I'm ready for that as soon as we can begin."
"Of course-of course!" If the high priest were dis shy;tressed by Ariakas's news, he gave no indication. Instead, he hurried around the huge desk and placed a firm hand on the warrior's arm.
Ariakas's sense of reluctance gave way to a certain sat shy;isfaction. Obviously, he was not to be treated as some kind of apprentice or lackey. They had expected him- and Takhisis herself had told him that he would sit at her right! Smiling tightly, the warrior allowed the priest to escort him from the room.
In the hallway the young priestess awaited further commands, her posture rigid, her eyes still downcast. "That will be all, Heraleel," commanded the high priest. "You may await me in my chambers."
"Yes, Lord Patriarch," replied the girl before gliding silently away.
Wryllish noticed the warrior's gaze, and chortled softly. "We have numerous young apprentices," he said. "I will be certain to have one appointed to you-imme shy;diately."
Hashes of memory came to Ariakas of the warmth he had shared with the lady in the tower. The memories vanished, replaced by a yearning ache that brought real temptation. Then he recalled the Dark Queen's words and her warning-any such liaison would cost the young woman her life within the year. "Not at the pre shy;sent," he said quietly.
"Now, these are the chambers of our novices," explained Wryllish Parkane, leading Ariakas past a long row of open, well-lighted chambers. In the first they saw a number of young men learning the art of swordplay and parry from a grizzled veteran. Several pairs of youths banged away at each other with mock savagery while a group of students formed a circle around the thunder-voiced teacher.
"They show skill," Ariakas admitted, watching the subtle use of feint and misdirection.
"Ours is a faith that does not disdain the use of force wielded righteously," Wryllish explained. "Some faiths of the ancient gods disdain bloodletting weapons. Our mistress takes a more practical approach."
"I respect practicality," Ariakas remarked.
The patriarch nodded. "Indeed, before the crowning of our queen it will be necessary for a great host to take up arms in her name." Here the priest looked at Ariakas shrewdly, as if measuring his worth for a role in that master scheme. The warrior, in turn, recalled the masses of leaderless men in Sanction-could they be marshaled to the Dark Queen's banner?
"This is our unarmed combat training," Wryllish Par-kane next declared. They had come to an arenalike chamber where a slender woman spoke sternly to sev shy;eral younger students. Barefoot, she wore a blue collar and a silken blouse and trousers. The gauzy material outlined her supple, muscular body.
Abruptly she swung her foot upward, lashing at one student's face before lunging forward to seize another by the crotch and neck. With a quick flip, she threw the struggling young man across the platform.
"Very impressive," Ariakas observed.
"Lyrelee is one of the best instructors we have. The temple is fortunate she chose to become a priestess."
They moved through many long corridors, past other rooms, some light, some dark. Ariakas heard sounds of intense, sometimes confrontational, conversation. Some noises were unintelligible, while others-groans and cries-suggested activities causing either pain or ecstasy.
Eventually Parkane led Ariakas to a high arch. A pair of green-collared men-at-arms, each dressed in red livery and carrying swords and shields of immaculate steel, flanked the opening. Just beyond, a wide stone stairway descended into the depths below the temple. The two guards snapped their weapons to attention and stepped back as the priest and warrior approached.
"But here, milord-here is where you see the true glory of our mistress's plan!" whispered Wryllish, his voice cracking with excitement. "These are the Sanctified Cata shy;combs. Only the most trusted of her servants are allowed here-those of the blue or red collars. Of course, some shy;times we have brought prisoners here as well, but they haven't emerged."
"Why me, then? I wear no collar," the warrior pointed out as they passed the sentries and started down the stairs.
"Why, my lord," the priest said, surprised. "Of course you are the natural exception to this rule.
Ariakas nodded, as if the response were expected. His stony features in fact masked fierce elation that he would have the freedom of the entire temple. He felt tingling anticipation as they descended toward the catacombs. The two guards were the only watchmen he'd seen, and given the deserted appearance of the dark stairway, he decided that these passages must be a well-kept secret to the outside world.
"Tell me," Ariakas pressed as they descended beyond earshot of the two guards. "How did you know I was coming? That I would be here tonight?"
Wryllish shrugged modestly. "We didn't know it would be tonight… but as to your eventual arrival, she told me, of course." "Do you speak to her?"
"Oh, no-not while I'm awake. But often she comes to me in my dreams, and regarding you she was quite specific. I am to train you in the highest calling of the priesthood, though I am assured that as a warrior you are already eminently capable."
"I am a warrior!" Ariakas growled. "I never gave any thought to becoming a priest, and I don't plan to now!"
Wryllish Parkane looked at him in some surprise. "Indeed? But thaf s not what I… well, no matter. Come along down here, won't you?"
The priest's assumptions, if anything, made Ariakas even more curious, so he continued to follow him down the straight, seemingly interminable stairway. The torches in the wall were very far apart, and darkness filled the gaps between them. Ariakas was about to sug shy;gest they take one of the brands with them when the priest astonished him by muttering a few indistinguish shy;able words, causing a bright light to flare into life atop his short scepter. The metal star glowed with a cool but surprisingly extensive illumination.
"The power of our mistress is a wondrous thing," noted the long-haired priest. His strides increased in tempo as the long subterranean corridor continued.
Ariakas kept pace easily, trying to take note of their surroundings as they advanced. He saw several yawn shy;ing cave-mouths branching to the right and left from the main passage, all of them utterly dark and lifeless. In several cases he felt certain-based on dust and spider-webs-that the passages led to completely unvisited regions below the temple.
Still, perhaps it was only the priest's light that made their current path seem different. Ariakas noticed several chambers outlined in stalactites and stalagmites-nat shy;ural caves in the ancient limestone bed of the Khalkists. The newer lava and basalt of the Lords of Doom fre shy;quently overlapped and buried the bedrock, but in places the two surfaces met. The temple of Luerkhisis was obviously one such juncture.