“Ridiculous,” said Krysta. “You shall have to do better than that. Everyone knows the villichi are a female sect. There are no male villichi.”
“I did not say I was born villichi,” Sorak replied calmly. “Merely that I was raised in their convent.”
“The villichi would never accept a male among them.”
“They accepted me. They took me in because I had great psionic talent and because I was an outcast. The villichi know what it means to be shunned for being different. The pyreen elder asked that I be given shelter at the convent, and because the villichi honor the pyreen, the high mistress granted her request.” Krysta thoughtfully pursed her lips.
“The villichi follow the Path of the Preserver and the Way of the Druid, as do the pyreen. That much, at least, is true. But I find the rest of your story difficult to accept.”
“Why should it matter to you one way or the other?” Sorak said. “Unless, of course, your interest goes beyond mere curiosity and the matter of my cheating in your gaming house. Why not ask Councilman Rikus to join us so that he can ask his questions for himself? He must be growing tired of standing with his ear pressed up against that door.”
Krysta’s eyes grew wide. Before she could reply, Rikus opened one of the side doors and stepped into the room.
“I was right,” he said. “You never were a mere herdsman. So you were schooled in the Way by the villichi? And doubtless taught by them to fight, as well. That makes you very dangerous.”
“Perhaps, but only to my enemies,” Sorak replied.
“Indeed,” said Rikus. “And how do you regard me?”
“As one who suspects my motives,” Sorak said with a smile.
Rikus grinned mirthlessly. “Well then, if you can read my thoughts, you know what my next question is.”
Sorak briefly ducked under again so that the Guardian could read the former gladiator’s thoughts. They were guarded, but it took less than an instant for the Guardian to perceive what the councilman was thinking, and to see that the mul could be trusted.
“It was pure chance that I came here,” Sorak replied. “I could not have known you planned to enlist Krysta’s aid in having me watched since you had not decided it until after I left the council chamber. It was only chance that brought us both to the same place. Or perhaps it was fate taking a hand.”
Rikus grunted. “Perhaps,” he said. “But I still have my doubts about the rest of what you told us.”
“What I told the council was the truth,” said Sorak. “However, I am sure you will discover that for yourself.”
“I intend to,” Rikus said. “Still, I find it difficult believing your only motive for coming to us was a reward.”
“I do not know how long I shall have to remain in Tyr,” Sorak replied. “In the forest and the desert, I can live off the land. In the city, I require money.”
“I see,” said Rikus. “And if you were to receive your reward tonight, would you be leaving in the morning?”
“If given a choice, I would prefer to stay,” said Sorak.
“Somehow, I thought as much,” Rikus said. “But why? What business do you have in Tyr?”
I came to make contact with the Veiled Alliance.” Rikus looked surprised at his candor, then he frowned. “Are you a sorcerer, as well?”
“No,” Sorak replied. “I seek the Sage.”
“The Sage?” said Krysta. She snorted with derision. “You mean the legend of the so-called “hermit wizard’ who is becoming an avangion? That story is nothing but a myth.”
“You are wrong,” Sorak replied. “The Sage lives, and I must find him.”
“And you think the Veiled Alliance can help you?” Rikus asked.
“I have reason to believe there are those in the Veiled Alliance who may possess information that will help me in my quest.” A quick psionic probe of Rikus’s and Krysta’s thoughts revealed that neither of them had any connection with the Veiled Alliance. Krysta had no strong feelings about them, one way or the other. She was a survivor who looked out for herself first. Rikus had an innate distrust of magic-users, whether defiler or preserver, though this uncertainty was tempered by his experience with the sorceress, Sadira. His concern about the Veiled Alliance was tied in with his concerns about the government of Tyr, of which he was a vital part. He saw the Alliance as a potentially disruptive influence, but he had far greater concerns about the templars, to whom the Alliance was unequivocally opposed.
“Assuming the Sage truly exists, why do you seek him?” Rikus asked.
Sorak saw no harm in telling him the truth. “I seek to know my origins,” he replied. “I do not know who my parents were. I remember nothing of my life before the pyreen elder found me in the desert. I do not know into what tribe I was born, or even which race it was. I know one of my parents was a halfling and the other was an elf, but I do not know which was which. I do not know what became of them. I have been plagued by these questions all my life.”
“And you believe the Sage can help you find the answers?” asked Rikus. He frowned. “Would not any sorcerer do as well?”
“The pyreen told me that only the Sage possesses preserver magic strong enough to part the veils of forgotten memory and time,” said Sorak. “And I could never seek help from a defiler. I may not have been born villichi, but I was raised among them. Their beliefs are my own. I am sworn to follow the Way of Druid and the Path of the Preserver.”
“You are, at least, forthright enough to admit you seek contact with the Veiled Alliance,” Rikus said. “Or perhaps you are merely being naive. In either case, I cannot help you. As a member of the council, I could hardly assist you in making contact with an underground group that functions outside the laws of the city, even if I had any information that would be of use to you.”
“If you did, I would already possess it,” said Sorak with a smile.
Rikus grimaced. “Yes, I suppose you would. Well, so long as you keep out of trouble, you can stay. I cannot say I am at ease about your presence here, but Tyr is a free city now, and you have not broken any laws.”
“What I did tonight was not a crime?” asked Sorak.
“No crime has been officially reported to me,” Rikus said with a quick glance at Krysta. Then, turning back to Sorak, he added, “I advise you to make sure that it remains that way. When the templars have completed their investigation, you shall receive your reward. In the meantime, it seems you have acquired sufficient means to pay for your lodging and your board while you remain in Tyr. What you do about the Veiled Alliance is your own concern. Just see to it that it does not become mine.”
He turned and left the room.
“It would seem you have impressed him favorably,” said Krysta.
“He has a peculiar way of showing it,” Sorak replied.
She smiled. “That is Rikus for you,” she said. “One does not learn charm fighting in the arena.”
“Where did you learn it, then?” asked Sorak.
“There is not much point in trying to keep anything from you, is there?” she replied. “Yes, I fought in the arena. As for my charm, I came by it naturally, I suppose. A female must use whatever weapons she can in this world, especially if she is a lowly half-breed. A full-blooded elf would consider me contaminated by my human blood, and a human male might desire me, but only to satisfy his appetites. He would never accept me as an equal.”
“I know what it means to be different,” Sorak said. “I have seen the way people look upon me in the streets.”
“Yes, we are two of a kind,” she said in a low voice. “And if you know my thoughts...”
Sorak did not need to be a telepath to see what was on her mind. “I am flattered,” he said, “but I have sworn a vow of celibacy.”
“Vows can be broken.”
“Then they are not vows,” said Sorak, “merely self-deluding resolutions.”
“I see,” said Krysta. “Well, it is a pity. You have no idea what you’re missing. Still, a man who makes a vow and keeps it is a man worthy of respect. If you cannot accept me as a lover, then perhaps you can accept me as a friend.”