"Explain, pray."
"Sir, since the High Priestess Lazdai came to power, the Bákhites have striven to suppress all rival cults and to force their creed upon all Chilihaghuma, on pain of cruel punishment. Now, on the pretext that we Yeshtites practice human sacrifice, she hath persuaded the Dasht to outlaw our holy cultus and declare forfeit the lives of its votaries."
"What do you want of us?" said Reith.
"I've heard that in some Terran lands, governments are forbidden to interfere with religion."
"Yes; that's the case in my native country. But why—?"
"Then, sir, I can count upon your sympathy, can I not? I must needs flee Jeshang. Learning that you twain are on the way to Kubyab, I bethought me that I might join you."
"In what capacity?" asked Reith.
"Oh, I can offer prayers for your safety and by divination warn you of bad luck and stormy weather."
"Does your cult in fact practice human sacrifice?"
"Nay! That is a vile falsehood," said Nirm indignantly. "Never would the god of justice countenance the shedding of innocent blood."
"We have heard of such rites at the Temple of Yesht in Zanid."
The priest raised his hands. "For aught I know, that may be sooth. The worship of Yesht in Balhib is independent of that in Chilihagh. We know little of their practices, for we and they are not on terms of friendship. Belike the Balhibuma have fallen into evil ways."
"If I understand him," said Marot in English, "this little Krishnan seems worthy of our sympathy. Could we not let him join us?"
The Yeshtite peered in anxious incomprehension from one Terran to the other. Reith said: "No, sir! Now that we're on the good side of the Dasht, it's our business to stay there. Besides, we don't even know if this lad is telling the truth. He might be a plant."
"A plant? He does not look like a vegetable—"
"I mean, he may have been sent, perhaps by the Dasht, perhaps by the Temple of Bákh, to see if we're playing a double game."
"Such suspicion! And you once called me paranoid because I accused Foltz of plotting to impede us."
"You may have been right about Foltz. It just means we must be wary of everybody: Foltz and this little fellow both. In several years on Krishna, I've had more narrow squeaks than I like to remember. So I don't take more chances than I can help." To the Krishnan, Reith said: "It grieves me, Father Nirm, but I fear we cannot accommodate you."
"Oh, good my lords, I beg you—"
"Leave off the begging, for it will do no good. For one thing, we shall work in the western part of the Dashtate, where the Bákhites could still lay hands upon you. When we're finished there, we shall return through Jeshang, where your enemies could seize you. I fear, my good Nirm, that you ask the impossible."
The Krishnan's shoulders drooped. "Ah, me! Then I may end up in Lazdai's Kettle after all."
"What's that?"
"The Cauldron of Repentance, it is called, wherein convicted heretics and unbelievers are boiled to death."
"Why don't you quietly quit the priesthood and take up some less risky trade?" suggested Reith.
"What, abandon my holy faith from motives of self-interest? That were base and cowardly! I may not be Qarar reincarnate, but I can face my doom with becoming dignity!"
The little Krishnan turned to leave, then froze as another knock, more emphatic, rattled the door. " 'Tis the priests of Bákh, come to hale me hence!" he whispered. "Save me!"
"Get under the bed," said Reith.
As Nirm scuttled beneath the bed like some great gray cockroach seeking shelter from the housewife's broom, Reith stepped to the door and again opened it a crack. Before him stood a Krishnan in a black-and-white habit, similar in form to Nirm's garb.
Ostentatiously yawning, Reith mumbled: "What is it? What—who are you? You awoke me ..."
"Your pardon, my masters," said the one without. "Have you seen a small knave slinking about in garb of an outlawed priesthood?"
"No, we have seen no one," said Reith, smothering another yawn. "My fellow Ertsu and I were sound asleep until you knocked."
"None hath sought admission to your chamber?"
"If any knocked earlier, we failed to hear it." 'Then, forgive the intrusion. Bákh bless you!"
The Krishnan made a benedictory gesture and departed. Closing and bolting the door, Reith turned to Marot. "It was a priest of Bákh all right, and I don't mean Johann Sebastian. Our little fellow had better stay under the bed for a while, till we're sure the other priest has gone for good."
"Who is this Qarar of whom he spoke?"
"The Krishnan Herakles. There's a whole cycle of legends about his labors—six according to some, nine according to others. Qarar is supposed to have slain assorted monsters and impregnated an astronomical number of females, including a she-yeki."
"I find impregnating a female of my own species quite sufficiently taxing," said Marot. "Do you ask me to gratify a lioness or a she-bear as well!"
Reith peered under the bed. "Come on out, Nirm. Why don't you go somewhere where your cult still flourishes and you'd be welcome?"
Nirm crawled out and dusted himself. "The Temple of Yesht in Jazmurian is said to retain the pure worship. But how can I get thither? A riverboat leaves in two days, but the fare is twenty karda. Because of the persecution, the offerings of the faithful have been meager; and my entire wealth is sixteen karda." He withdrew the small hoard from his purse and displayed it.
Marot took four silver coins from his purse. "Here, my friend, take these," he said, ignoring Reith's disapproving frown. "But do not, I pray you, tell anyone from whom they came."
"I understand, my lord!" said Nirm, dropping to his knees and touching his forehead to the ground before the scientist.
"Come, come," said Marot. "Terrans do not like such excessive homage. Get up, I pray!"
"I am eternally grateful! I shall offer prayers to Yesht for you all the rest of my life!"
"That's fine," said Reith, "but right now we'd rather see you on your way. Change into ordinary garb, and get aboard your boat as soon as you're allowed." He opened the door, and the priest, glancing nervously about, disappeared.
"I hope they don't boil the poor little devil," said Reith. "But half the Terrans who get killed on Krishna do so as a result of well-meant interference in Krishnan affairs. My former wife is such a meddler; if it hasn't killed her yet, it probably will. So don't let your generous heart lead you down that garden path."
Reith had calculated that the journey to Kubyab would take three days. They spent four days on the road, however, because for most of a day a storm imprisoned them in their tent. It began as a sandstorm. A black wall of sand and dust swept across the sky and sped towards them. Preceding the storm were clouds of whirling black specks, flocks of bat-winged bijars and aqebats fleeing the storm.
Reith and Marot hastily set up their tent, driving the pegs extra deep against the anticipated gale. Before they had quite finished, the air began to churn with flying sand. For the next several hours they huddled inside, hearing the howl of the wind and wondering how soon the bellying canvas would be whirled away. Then thunder boomed, and the sand gave way to a downpour, beating against the tent walls like a regiment of drummers. During lulls, they peered out to see whether their ayas had broken loose; but the animals stoically stood in a clump, facing down-wind, with lowered heads and closed eyes.
When the storm was over, the floor of the tent was a morass of mud. Although there were but a couple of hours left of the long Krishnan day, Reith and Marot packed their soggy gear and moved on in hope of finding a drier spot to spend the night.
The farther west they went, the sparser became the vegetation. Between rare stands of trees, mostly along creeks, stretched open terrain. The Krishnan equivalents of grasses and herbs, plants with stems and leaves of green and blue and gold and crimson, provided a ragged cover for the red, clayey soil.