or how.’
Abruptly, Cappen Varra was impatient. ‘You asked for my advice,’ he said curtly.
‘I have given it to you. Goodbye.’
He walked off into the crowd.
They brought Stulwig before the prince, who recognized him. ‘Why, it’s the
healer,’ he said. Whereupon, he glanced question-ingly at Molin Torchbearer.
The hall of justice was all too brightly lit by the mid-afternoon sunlight. The
sun was at that location in the sky whereby its rays shone directly through the
slanting vents that were designed to catch, and siphon off, rain water … as
the high priest said accusingly, ‘Your most gracious excellency, we found this
follower of Ils in the temple of Vashanka.’
With the brilliant light pouring down upon him, Stulwig started towards the dais
– and the two Hell Hounds, who had been holding him, let him go.
He stopped only when he came to the long wooden barrier that separated the
accused criminals from the high seat, where the prince sat in judgement. From
that fence, Stulwig spoke his protest. ‘I did no harm, your highness. And I
meant no harm. Tell his excellency-‘ he addressed Torchbearer – ‘that your
assistants found me on my knees before the-‘ he hesitated; he had been about to
say ‘the idol’. Uneasily, his mind moved over to the word, ‘statue’. But he
rejected that also, shuddering. After a long moment he finished lamely – ‘before
Vashanka himself, praying for his assistance.’
‘Yes, but a follower of Ils praying to a son of Savankala-‘ Torchbearer was grim
– ‘absolutely forbidden by the doctrines of our religion.’