She looked stunned. She blinked and then asked, ‘Belasco?’ He nodded once.
She said, ‘I’ll prepare a travel bag. Enough food to take you to the city. You can buy the rest as you go.’
Her sudden change in mood and manner were entirely understandable. Over the many years they had been together, she had listened to the same stories as Brandos while Amirantha chatted over supper. She knew that Belasco was a magician of mighty arts, easily Amirantha’s equal, and that he had been trying to kill Amirantha since before Brandos or Samantha had been alive.
CHAPTER TWO - Knight-Adamant
Sandreen a sat motionless.
She focused her mind on the seemingly impossible task of thinking of nothing. For seven years she had practised this ritual whenever conditions permitted, yet she never reached the total vacancy of thought that was the goal of the Sha’tar Ritual.
Despite her eyes being closed, she could describe the room around her in precise detail. And that was her problem. Her mind wanted to be active, not floating blankly. She resisted the urge to sigh.
On her best days in the Temple, she found something close to nothingness, or at least when the ritual ended she had no memory of thinking about anything and felt very relaxed. But she was still not entirely convinced that having no memory and possessing no thought were the same. Her concern always caused Father-Bishop Creegan some amusement, and the fact she was moved by the thought was another reminder that today she was far from attaining a floating consciousness.
She was still aware of every single object in the room around her. Without opening her eyes, she could recount every detail; her ability to recall it all without flaw was a natural skill honed and refined since joining the Shield of the Weak. Her vows required her to protect those unable to protect themselves. Often, there was little time to ascertain the justice of a claim, or the right and wrong of a dispute, so she relied upon making quick judgment in deciding where and how to intervene. Attention to detail often gave her an advantage in not making things worse, even if she couldn’t make them better.
The smell of the wooden walls and floor, rich with age, and the faint pungency of oils used daily to replenish them, tantalized her, recalling memories of other visits to this and other temples. She could hear the faint hissing of water on hot rocks as the acolytes moved almost silently through the room, bringing in hot rocks from a furnace outside. They managed to carry a large iron basket full of glowing basalt and place it quietly on the floor, then they ladled water over its surface, a sprinkling that caused a silent steam to rise. She remembered her days as an acolyte spent concentrating on moving through a room much like this one without disturbing the monks, priests, and occasionally a knight like herself. It had been her first step on the path towards serving the Goddess. As many as a dozen men and women would sit silently, their clothing folded neatly on benches along the rear wall, and it had been her job to ensure the tranquillity of the room. At the time she had wondered whether a more difficult task existed; now she knew that the acolytes had the simpler role, and those seeking a floating consciousness the more rigorous challenge.
She felt perspiration drip down her naked back, almost but not quite enough of an itch to make her wish to scratch. She willed her mind away from the sensations of her flesh. Sitting with crossed legs, eyes closed, and her hands resting palms up on her knees, nothing was supposed to distract her; yet that drip of perspiration felt almost as if she were being touched. Her annoyance at being distracted by it began a cycle she knew well. Soon she would be as far removed from a floating consciousness as she would be during combat or enjoying a lover. She found a spark of irony in that thought, since in both those cases, she was probably closer. Other parts of her mind seemed to predominate when fighting or loving, and the ever-questioning, ever-critical part that made her difficult for most people to be with, detached.