Bek glanced down and realized that the badge given to him by Martuch had been dislodged during the struggle. As he started to answer, Martuch said, ‘He is my retainer. He is Sadharin.’
The first priest raised his eyebrows and his expression became one of interest. ‘A student? From his demeanour and the numbers of dead at his feet I would have thought him at least a master in your ranks, if not a captain.’
‘He has promise,’ said Hirea dismissively. ‘But among those I tutor, he is but another student.’
After a long moment of consideration, the first priest said, ‘Then you will not mind if he leaves your side.’ Pointing at Ralan he said, ‘What are you named?’
‘I am Bek,’ said the human disguised as a Dasati warrior.
‘Bek,’ intoned the Hierophant, ‘you are called!’
For the briefest second Valko and Martuch exchanged glances. Both felt the instinct to attack, to prevent the Dark One’s servants from taking Bek away, but they also both knew that despite not being as powerful in their use of magic as the Deathpriests, these two Hierophants alone could tip the balance against Valko’s group.
Martuch said, ‘You must go with them.’ Softly, so that only Bek could hear him, he added, ‘Do nothing to reveal yourself. We will contact you before the end of this day. Go.’
Bek sheathed his sword and said to the priest, ‘Called?’
‘The TeKarana always needs prodigious warriors. The training is arduous and far more taxing than what you have endured at the hands of your old teacher—’ he stressed the word ‘old’ in a way that would have got him killed had he not been protected by another magic-user and a dozen temple guards ‘—and should you survive, you will earn a place attending the Dark One’s most loyal servant, his personal guard.’
‘Should you achieve special merit,’ said the other priest, ‘you may be chosen to join his most noble order, the Talnoy.’
Bek grinned. ‘Is there killing to be done?’
‘Always,’ answered the first priest with a grin to match Bek’s. ‘Today’s Culling was just a taste. A banquet of death will soon be laid before the faithful.’
‘Then I will come with you,’ said the blood-drenched youth.
He mounted his varnin and wheeled around, falling in with the guards who followed the priests.
As they rode down the boulevard and the first stirrings of normal life returned to this part of the city, Valko said to Martuch, ‘What do we do now?’
‘Get to the Orchard of Delmat-Ama as quickly as we can, and speak to the Gardener,’ answered Martuch. To the others he shouted, ‘We ride!’
They mounted up quickly and moved at a fast pace through a city littered with the dead and dying.
The greetings were subdued. On both sides there were too many questions that needed to be asked and answered for any casual discussion.
The shelter was as Macros had described it, ample but simple. Cots were arrayed along the walls of a long room, perhaps once an underground grain storage warehouse, or even a barracks of sorts, but other than beds, a table and a stack of water jugs at the far end, the room was devoid of comfort. Two lanterns gave out a low light allowing Pug’s vision to register heat once more as if it were something normally seen.
Martuch, Valko and Hirea had all joined Macros and his companions in the hiding place, while the other servants of the White stayed above to ensure that no one below was disturbed. Nakor especially seemed troubled by the news that Bek had been taken by the Hierophants. ‘Why do you think he was taken?’ he asked Martuch.
Martuch shrugged, one of the few very human gestures that always startled Pug when he saw it. ‘For any number of reasons, but none which lead me to think they have an inkling of his real nature; had that been the ease, there would not have been two clerics, but twenty, not a dozen guards, but a hundred. And there would have been no conversation.’
‘They would have attacked without question,’ agreed Nakor. ‘Then, of those possible reasons, which do you judge to be the most reasonable?’
‘Reasonable?’ Again the old Dasati warrior looked very human in his expression of doubt. ‘There is almost nothing left of reason in our land, Nakor. But if you ask me the most likely, it is this: Bek has grown in power since he has been here. It is no longer simply a case of him resembling a powerful young warrior.’
‘Martuch is right,’ Valko added. ‘He exudes might. He carries himself like a nobleman born, the son of some great house, and his strength is apparent. The day I met you I would not have hesitated to cut him down where he stood had I a cause. Today, even the mightiest of our race would hesitate before challenging him. He is not just playing the part of a Dasati any more. He is Dasati to his core. It is daunting.’
Hirea said, ‘If he were in truth my student, I would already judge him the most dangerous I had ever instructed. If I had him on the training floor, I would fear for my head.’