He was halfway up when the priests came down to meet him. He threw a quick but searching glance at the face of each one, to see if there were any he could recognize-and who might possibly recognize him. But they were all strangers. He knelt and raised his hands in the traditional suppliant's posture. But he didn't want to look or sound too abject. He wanted to impress them as a «strong spirit.» Otherwise they would never admit him, except as someone to be turned into one of their mindless slaves.
«Who are you?» said the first priest sharply.
«One who has sought to serve Ayocan, as I have said. I wrought a picture of the god upon a wall in the Square of the Goldsmiths, and sought to preach to the people. But they desecrated the picture, and all but slew me. I have come to you, that I may continue to serve the god.»
The priests were silent for a time that seemed endless to Blade. Behind him he heard the continued howls of the mob. Although the priests here would have no Holy Warriors to set on him, they could still get rid of him quite effectively. All they would need to do was send a message to the mob below-«We reject this false servant of our god. Come and punish him as you see fit.» That would mean a messy end for Blade.
«You drew a picture?» said the first priest. There was more incredulity in his voice than anything else.
«That is what he said,» put in a second priest.
«I heard him,» snapped the first priest.
Blade tried to look humble without looking abject. «Have I erred in some way, making a picture of mighty Ayocan?»
«No,» said the first priest. «No error. It is just-well, such courage I have heard of, but never seen. To do this in Dafar, the City of the Witless. . As I said, such courage. .» His voice trailed off.
«If he is telling the truth,» put in a third priest.
«Of course he's telling the truth!» snapped the first priest. «What else could have provoked a mob like that? A picture-a picture of mighty Ayocan. Such a brave man. Such a strong spirit.»
«Then will you accept me for the service of the god, the free service?» Blade asked. He managed to sound like a free man who knows his own worth. But his mouth was dry as he waited for an answer.
«How could we do otherwise?» said the first priest. «Ayocan will reward you himself in time. But for the moment we also can reward you by permitting you to enter Ayocan's service. You are welcome, oh, strong spirit.» He turned, and motioned toward the top of the mound.
Blade rose and followed the priest, ignoring the howl of fury that went up from the mob as they saw him being given sanctuary. For the moment he was safe. More important, he had entered the service of Ayocan under better auspices than he had expected-or believed possible. Luck and his professional skills together had done the job.
But as he climbed, he could not help thinking of the irony of saving his life by fleeing to the priests of Ayocan. For him, that was rather like escaping from a pack of wolves by jumping into a pit of snakes.
Chapter 14
The priests hustled Blade up the mound and down the stairs into it at a run, as if they wanted to get him out of sight as fast as possible. Considering that the mob was still gathered at the foot of the mound, Blade didn't blame the priests at all.
The door to the stairs rumbled shut behind him and the familiar smelly darkness of a temple mound closed around him. The priests kept in a close circle about Blade as they led him down the corridor and down more stairs, deeper into the mound. This did not bother Blade. The priests here looked no more athletically inclined than the ones he had seen in Chiribu. If there were actually none of the Holy Warriors in the Gonsaran temples of Ayocan, he had only the Death-Vowed to fear. And the priests would be reluctant to release those within the temple mound merely to stop an escaping prisoner.
Unless they recognized him. That was the thing Blade knew he had to avoid at all costs. There just might be a priest able to recognize him even through his disguise, and then the game would be up. The cult would take almost any risk to bring down the man who had learned their secrets, slaughtered their Holy Warriors, and then escaped being sacrificed to Ayocan by the intervention of their enemy King Hurakun. Once again the notion that he had possibly fled into a snake pit occurred to Blade. And as the priests led him still farther down, he kept at a peak of alertness. His eyes roamed the shadows, looking for signs of guards, memorizing the way back to the surface.
But Isgon, chief priest of the cult of Ayocan in Gonsara, did not remind Blade of a snake. The Elder Brother looked more like an aging hunting dog-a large man for a Chiribuan, graying, flabby in belly and jowls. His voice was vigorous, though.
«I am told by Brothers of this House that you sought to serve mighty Ayocan in the city outside. Is that so?»
«It is, Revered One.»
«Tell me how you sought to serve Ayocan. In your own words, mind you. I have heard how it seemed to these Brothers, but not to you.»
Blade told his story, putting in every detail he could think of that might impress Isgon. He succeeded in doing so. By the time Blade had finished speaking, Isgon looked nearly as awe-struck as the priests who had first met Blade.
«For this I can and shall call you Brother and one to be blessed by Ayocan at the time of his coming, though you are not as yet a priest of the god.» Isgon sat in silence for a moment, chin sunken into his cupped hands. «Is it your wish to become a priest of Ayocan?»
The question was so unexpected that for a moment Blade was at a complete loss for words. Then his mind leaped to the idea of yet another gamble. Mirasa and Hurakun had both said the Gonsarans would not permit the cult to maintain any Holy Warriors in the temple mounds in Gonsara. So the temple mounds there were almost defenseless. They were protected from the wrath of the hostile people by their friends in high places and by the soldiers of a king who might easily turn against them. It would be a miracle if this state of affairs wasn't preying on Isgon's mind to some extent. Perhaps Blade could offer to lighten his burden?
«Revered One, I am ready to become a priest if it is the will of Ayocan. But I have not heard his call in such a manner. It has come to my mind that your temple mounds here in Gonsara perhaps need protection. Suppose the soldiers of King Thambral had not held back the mob that was pursuing me today?» Isgon shuddered. Blade almost grinned. The priest was ready to walk straight into the trap.
«Indeed there is a need for protection for the Houses of Ayocan here in Gonsara,» said Isgon. «But what can you do to help us in that?»
«I have traveled in Chiribu,» said Blade. «I have watched the sacrifices there. I saw that your priests and temple mounds had soldiers to protect them from those who reject or defy Ayocan.»
«They do,» said Isgon. «We call them the Holy Warriors of Ayocan. But King Thambral, may Ayocan curse him, will permit us no such protection here in Gonsara, to stand between the houses of the god and the wrath of his people.»
«Indeed,» said Blade. «This is known to me. But there must be a good number of strong and brave men among those who follow Ayocan here in Gonsara. Perhaps I could take some of the worthiest and most trusted of these men and train them in a warrior's arts. And when they are trained, you will have your own Holy Warriors, and that cursed King Thambral will be none the wiser.»
Isgon's face lit up as if Blade had just announced the impending arrival of the god Ayocan himself. He even rubbed his hands together. Then his face sobered. «Are you a warrior, then, that you can train others so?»