"By the power of the dark robe, I commend you into our ranks," declared Kelryn, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, smiling thinly as the supplicant's face was suffused by a glow of inner happiness.
"Now, rise. Take yourself through the door of red. You will serve our god in the ranks of the Faithguards."
"Thank you, Master. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!" cried the recruit. He stood, and Kelryn thought for a distasteful moment that the fellow actually intended to embrace him. Perhaps the expression on the high priest's face was enough of a deterrent, for the supplicant merely stammered something, bowed, and started for the indicated door, one of three exits on the side of the chapel.
"In the Sect of the Dark Robe, we show our gratitude through our actions, through faithful service to the church!" Kelryn snapped as the man made his way to the red door. The high priest hoped his stern words would forestall any other such displays from the remaining supplicants.
The ceremony continued, with the next few men also being sent into the ranks of the Faithguards. These recruits swelled the number of Kelryn's private army to more than one hundred strong, dedicated and ruthless fighters all. The Faithguards were charged with the protection of church property, property that was increasing in extent and value on an almost daily basis. The armed acolytes also served to discourage the efforts of nearby sects that seemed to present too much of a threat to the cult of the black robe. More than one temple in this district had been mysteriously burned, its faithful priests found strangled, flayed, or charred in the ruins.
Several of the supplicants were young men, too slight or benign to serve in the Faithguards. These were assigned to temple duties, cleaning and other servant tasks. One would becofhe the high priest's house servant, replacing a lad that Kelryn had been forced to torture and kill only the previous week, when that youth had fancied himself a manly lover and had dared to visit the quarters of the temple maidens.
Even now Kelryn scowled at the memory of the lad's insolent disobedience. Everyone in the church knew that those sanctified quarters were reserved for the maidens only, except for Kelryn Darewind himself. The priest made a mental note: He would have to warn the new recruits about the restrictions, since he wanted very much to avoid a similar infraction. Indeed, he had rather liked the previous boy, so much so that the high priest had actually required the aid of a burly Faithguard before Kelryn had been able to muster the resolve to gouge out the lad's second eye.
The last three of the supplicants were female. The first, a toothless hag who leered up at the priest with an expression of fawning adoration, was assigned to the sweepers; she would join a group who maintained the temple grounds and the high priest's mansion, insuring that the Sect of the Black Robe presented a gleaming and impeccable facade to this city of so many and varied temples. The second was a younger woman whose large, beaklike nose gave her a rather homely appearance; she was assigned to the Faithguards, and Kelryn knew that the men would make good use of her. No doubt within a few years, if she lasted that long, she would come to resemble the hag he had just assigned to the sweepers.
The final supplicant-positioned at the end of the line by Warden Thilt, who knew his master's tastes-was a young woman of unblemished skin, golden hair, and clear blue eyes. He had her maintain her kneeling posture for a little longer than was necessary and took great pleasure in her smooth voice as she stared into the depths of the bloodstone and reverently chanted the vows.
"You are assigned to the Temple Maidens," Kelryn declared, his voice already thickening with desire. "Pass through the white door. You will find a garden there, wine and fruit as well. Sample the food and drink as you wish. Then remove your robe and wait for me."
"Yes, Master," she intoned, and the high priest pulled away the bloodstone so those blue eyes would rise to regard him. He nearly fell into them, so pure was their color and so willing, so devoted, their expression.
This one really was a beauty, he thought, and he made a private vow that he would take his time with her. Too many times in recent years he had found a treasure like this, only to ruin her with his uncontrolled passion on their first encounter. Afterward, such tarnished beauties were useful only to the Faithguards. Sometimes, in fact, an unfortunate girl had been so frightened and disillusioned by her first encounter with the high priest that he had been forced to sacrifice her in the temple dungeons. Not that such executions were not without their own form of pleasure, but Kelryn Darewind was a pragmatic man and knew that his recruits were always more useful to him alive then dead.
Yes, he repeated silently, I will be patient with this one, that she may please me for a long time to come.
The woman walked to the white door, and Kelryn stared hungrily, watching the smooth curves of her body shifting gracefully beneath the gauzy cotton of her robe. He thought momentarily of dispensing with the rest of the day's business, but quickly he discarded that notion. He could be patient, and there were important matters of the church that needed his attention.
He flopped back into his chair, reflecting that it had not always been so. Had it actually been fifty years ago that he first arrived in this rich, lively, and utterly corrupt city? Kelryn knew it had, though none who saw him would have guessed his age to be much more than three decades. Indeed, he knew he looked very much the same as he did when he had ridden out of Tarsis so many years ago.
Now, however, when he thought back to those days, it seemed that he was recalling an experience from a different life. His hand closed around the stone that pulsed within his fingers, and he knew he owed a great transformation in his own life to his chance encounter with the dwarf, now a half century dead, on the Pax Tharkas road.
Except that he did not believe, had not even believed then, that it was really a chance encounter. It was the stone-or, more accurately, the spirit that throbbed within the stone-that had brought Cantor Blacksword into his path, that had summoned Kelryn up the steep gully to the Theiwar's smoldering fire.
The bloodstone had known that the raving dwarf had served his purpose. A pariah to his own kind, terrified and suspicious of everyone else, Cantor had been unable to carry the powerful artifact into the centers of life and vitality that it craved. Kelryn Darewind, on the other hand, with his easy social grace, his handsome smile, and his flowing, charismatic speech, had been a much better choice.
When the man first held the stone, he had felt its compelling power; even more, he sensed that the artifact was appealing to him personally. Then, when he had replied, had offered his acquiescence-for a price-he understood that the gem had respected Kelryn's strength. The stone needed the man, and the man needed the stone. Together they had helped each other for many years.
And Kelryn Darewind, for his part, had no complaints as he proclaimed himself a high priest. He knew he was a tool for the power within the stone, but he had been quick to grasp that his role called for him to maintain a position of great wealth and high status. He had strong men who would obey his every command and as many women of all ages, shapes, and sizes as he could possibly desire. And there had been another benefit as well, one that he had not perceived for many years after the founding of his sect. But now the truth could not be denied: Since he had been carrying the bloodstone, he had not been subject to the ravages of age that were the lot of every mortal man.
It had been that fact that accounted for so much of the sect's recent success in recruitment and donation. In an age when the gods had abandoned Krynn, when the pseudo-doctrines of charlatans hailing the virtues of false gods could be heard on any of a dozen street corners in Haven, even the barest suggestion of a miracle was enough to bring people flocking to his door. And word of a sect presided over by a young man who had been a young man for fifty years was clear enough evidence that he was a wielder of supernatural power.