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:Perhaps because it's another Herald?: Kantor asked.

He hadn't ever gotten such an odd feeling from anyone else, not even Talamir. :No, it's not just that. She's not an Empath, is she?:

:Not so far as I know,: his Companion replied thoughtfully. :But she does have one rather odd little Gift. She doesn't have to cast the Truth Spell to know if someone is telling the truth, so long as she's in close proximity to them. It's why she's in the city courts, in fact.:

Interesting. Perhaps that was why she seemed to be able to get the people to tell her so much. Perhaps that was why she was so focused on needing to know the why of things. If you always knew that something was true or false, maybe your focus shifted from finding out the truth, to finding out the reasons behind it.

If you knew that something was true, maybe that impelled you to talk to others, as well as listen to them.

:Am I needed up the hill?: he asked. Kantor would know; the Companions always seemed to be more-or-less in contact with one another.

Kantor's reply was immediate. :No. And I've no objection to staying here in this nice, dry stable if you have something you need to do. Shall I tell them you're going to be down here a while?:

:Please do.: Myste might not be the right person to talk to about some of the things that were troubling him, but she was right about one thing. Gerichen was, and if he couldn't take counsel with one of Vkandis' own, who could he speak with? :Tell them —:

He hesitated. :If anyone wants to know, tell them I'm going to visit a friend.:

«»

The Temple of the Lord of Light in Haven was a small one, situated between a saddlery and a chandler. Alberich thought the chandler a particularly appropriate neighbor, all things considered. Candles—next to the Temple of the Light? He wondered if the chandler knew.

He'd gone back to the secret room and donned the garb of one of his more-respectable personae, in no small part because that persona was possessed of a raincape, an article of clothing that Herald Alberich had forgotten to bring with him this evening. Besides, it wouldn't hurt for Lysander Fleet to be seen here. It was one more layer in the persona.

The duties of a Sunpriest began at sunrise and ended at sunset, but Geri would be accessible for another couple of marks—

Candlemarks, he reminded himself. He had to start thinking in Valdemaran terms, or he would never get the hang of this confounded illogical tongue....

The Temple itself, though modest in size, did not skimp on illumination. In fact, it showed itself to be a most hospitable neighbor; at the gates of the forecourt, directly under the two large oil torches, were benches that were, in nearly every kind of weather but rain or snow, occupied by one or more of the neighbors taking advantage of the "free" lighting to read by. The forecourt was illuminated by six more torches, and there were benches beneath them as well, although normally only a member of the temple congregation was likely to venture in there to read. Or socialize; Henrick encouraged people to feel as if the temple was an extension of their household, and there were plenty who lived tightly packed into a couple of rooms with their entire family who were happy to use the space in good weather. The forecourt was a good place for meeting friends, taking very small children to play, or just to get away from the rest of one's family.

They weren't uncomfortable benches either; of wood rather than stone (though wooden benches would have been more in keeping with Karsite custom anyway) and constructed with a subtle curve that welcomed a sitter. They glistened wetly in the rain, like great, sleek river beasts looming under the torches that had been extinguished by the first of the downpour. With the torches out, the only illumination came from two lamps on either side of the door of the temple itself. That wasn't a lot, and Alberich cursed the invisible bumps and cobbles that made for unsteady and slightly slippery footing.

He pulled open the wooden door and slipped quietly inside, trying not to disturb anyone who might be there. But the place was empty, holding nothing more but the Presence Flame on the altar, and the sharp scent of the oils used to polish the wooden interior. The aroma sent a shiver and a pang of homesickness over him. All Temples of Vkandis had this scent, since (except for the Great Temple in Throne City), all Temples of Vkandis were made of wood. Polishing some of that wood had been one of his tasks as a child....

Not that his old priest had any notion of taking him in as a novice. It was only too clear from the very beginning that Alberich had no vocation, and at any rate, he would not have lasted five marks in the cutthroat game of politics that most Sunpriests played.

But the scent brought back memories of his childhood, pleasant ones, in fact, which would have surprised people had they known it.

Well—not his four agents. Thanks to his memories, they now knew what a Sunpriest should be like. A little stern, perhaps, but not unforgiving; a truly upright person.

Geri came in after Alberich let the door fall closed again, and it did so with a hollow thud. The priest—for Gerichen was a full Sunpriest now, just as Alberich was a full Herald—peered toward the shadows enshrouding the door, and made out at least the basic form enshrouded by a rain-cape. "What can I do for you, my s—" Geri began, as Alberich threw back the hood of his cape and stepped forward so that Geri could see who it was.

"Don't call me your son, Geri," he admonished in Karsite, "You're nowhere near old enough to be my father."

"Keep coming at me out of the dark like that, and my hair will soon be white enough to pass for your father," Geri replied. "Of all people, you were the last I would have expected to see tonight."

"A mutual friend suggested that I don't come visit nearly enough." Alberich felt himself relaxing in the familiar surroundings that said safe haven to his younger self, no matter what had happened to him later at the hands of Sunpriests.

"Ah?" Geri raised an eyebrow, and then a hand. "Well, in that case, since this is a social call, shall we take this to my quarters?"

"Lead on." Alberich came up the aisle toward the altar. The sanctuary, the entire temple in fact, was a harmonious construction of carved and shaped wood, from the vaulted roof to the parquetry floor. The bench pews were finished with finials carved in the shape of a torch flame, and the Sun-In-Glory was inlaid in very subtle parquetry behind the altar. The several woods used to create it were of shades so near in color that you had to look for the pattern, and know what you were looking for, in order to see it. More patterns, geometric this time, were inlaid in the backs of the bench pews, in the floor, in the altar itself—and these were anything but subtle. Every color of wood possible had been used here, and Alberich reckoned that the artisan in question was either now a very wealthy man, or else was a devoted member of the congregation doing it for the glory of the One God, for it was quality work, and wouldn't have come cheaply.

Geri led him in past the altar and the door behind the altar itself. This was a kind of robing room, with vestments hung up all over the walls. A door in the opposite wall led to the priests' quarters.