"Good. Come on."
The girl obeyed, as he led the way back toward the Inn of the Seven Stars. He kept to the shadows and back alleys as much as possible and looped around the marketplace, giving it a wide berth. These tactics were fairly successful; the few passersby they encountered gave them no more than a passing glance.
This journey was hard on Garth's nerves; he kept expecting to hear someone shouting out the presence of the wanted thief and committer of sacrilege. Eventually, however, the pair reached the inn without being accosted, and crept through the archway into the stable. Dugger the stable-boy was still on duty; Garth motioned for him to be silent, and he assented with a grin and a nod.
Koros was curled up asleep but still occupied most of his stall, which had been designed with smaller animals in mind. Garth stepped in and settled comfortably on the straw on the other side, beside his supplies and the concealed loot from his first two thefts; with only a slight hesitation the girl obeyed his gesture and sat down beside him. He found a sponge in his pack, wetted it with water from one of his canteens-he would have to fill them soon-and said, "Get that thing off so I can clean your wounds."
She obeyed, untying the gambeson and pulling it over her head; despite the delicacy she displayed in this, Garth saw that several of the cuts beneath had been rubbed raw by the garment and were bleeding anew. He began washing away the blood and dirt as gently as he could but she still twitched away occasionally when the contact of water or the pressure of his hand stung her.
As he attended to this task he asked, "Now, girl, who are you?"
"My name is Frima." The girl's voice was high, but not unpleasant; she spoke timidly.
"Are you Dыsarran?"
"Yes, of course!"
"How did you come to be a sacrifice to Sai? Are you one of her devotees?"
"Oh, no! I worship Tema. The priests of Sai kidnapped me from my father's shop last night."
"How is it that the ceremony was being held at that hour? I had heard that only the cults of Tema and Andhur Regvos lived by night."
"That's right; that's why the sacrifices to Sai are-ow!-always at night."
"I do not understand"
"The cult of Sai is secret; its members do not-ooh!-do not admit their allegiance. Therefore, they hold all their ceremonies at night, when-ooh!-when the darkness provides cover, and when they will not be missed from their daytime occupations."
"Are the other cults equally secretive?"
"The day-dwelling cults are, yes. Ouch. That's part of why the night-dwellers avoid them; would you want to associate with someone who worships pain-ow! Damn them!-or disease? It is said that many of the day-dwellers worship no gods at all, but that's not much better, and there is no way of knowing which are which."
Garth finished his cleaning, and rummaged in his pack for the pouch of healing herbs he carried. "Your city has a very complicated way of life. Are kidnappings such as yours common?" He located the herbs, and worked some into the sponge.
"Oh, yes; people disappear all the time."
"Your overlord allows this?" He began rubbing the herbs gently along each cut; the girl cooperated by remaining as still as she could while she answered.
"There is nothing he can do. The bodies are never found, and there is no way of knowing which cult is responsible."
"Then why does he not destroy all those cults that practice human sacrifice?"
"Oh, that must never happen! The gods themselves have chosen Dыsarra; the Dark Gods must have temples here, or there would be a great disaster! Besides, nobody knows which cults have human sacrifices and which don't."
"It would seem obvious," Garth said as he finished spreading on the healing compound, "that the cult of The God Whose Name Is Not Spoken must practice human sacrifice; cannot the overlord at least destroy that one? I have noticed that even in Dыsarra most people want nothing to do with that god."
"There is no cult to destroy; no one worships the Final God but a single old priest. The god himself calls sacrifices to his temple, and no one who has entered the shrine has ever been seen again, except the priest. No one knows what is inside; no traces are ever found. No clothing, no bodies. Whenever a Dыsarran wishes to die, for whatever reason, he merely goes to the god's temple, and when the god is not satisfied with the number of suicides, he turns men mad, so they go to the temple without knowing what they are doing. The overlord would not dare to harm the priest or the temple, for then he himself might be called."
Garth made no further comment on the subject; instead, he said, "I am afraid I cannot properly bandage your wounds; they are too many, and I have not the necessary cloth. I hope they will not trouble you" He sat back to consider his situation, and the information Frima had just given him.
Frima, hesitantly, asked a question of her own. "Who are you? Why did you rescue me?"
"I am Garth of Ordunin, and I came to Dыsarra to steal whatever I found on the seven altars. You were on the altar of Sai, so I am stealing you, and will take you back to Skelleth with me."
"Are you going to ravish me?"
Garth looked at her in surprise. The question explained her behavior when he had stripped off his gambeson for her use, but the ignorance it implied was startling. "I couldn't if I wanted to. We are different species, as different as Koros, here, and an alley cat. Overmen take no interest in anything but overwomen."
"Oh." He was unable to see her blush in the darkness, and would not have understood its significance if he had.
"I am taking you to Skelleth because you were on the altar of Sai; I have no other interest in you." He wondered if her sexual expectations were justified by her appearance; she seemed fairly clean and healthy, with little excess fat but no bones showing, but beyond that he had no more idea of whether she was attractive than a bull would have. Overwomen were as noseless, flat-chested and furry as himself; they relied on scent for stimulation, not appearance, and Frima held no more interest for him than any other animal. He supposed men would like her, although her chest seemed rather overdone even for a human.
She was silent for a few seconds, and then burst out, "I don't want to go to Skelleth! Besides, if you're from Ordunin, why are you taking me somewhere else? And where is Ordunin, anyway? And Skelleth?"
"Ordunin is in the Northern Waste. Skelleth is in Eramma. I have undertaken this task for someone who dwells in Skelleth. I care very little whether you want to go or not, and I suggest you not argue. It was not specified that I bring you back alive." Garth was not seriously annoyed, but merely wanted quiet to think in and spoke harshly to silence the girl. His ploy succeeded; Frima shut up and shrank back into the straw. He had not intended to kill any of the followers of Sai, though he was repulsed by the use of torture and human sacrifice; he hoped the high priest, scum that he was, survived. He regretted snapping the other priest's neck, not so much out of respect for the life lost as because it would undoubtedly please the cult of Aghad. It had been inevitable, though; he had been attacked, and had responded appropriately. Besides, the man's death had cowed the others very nicely.