The services were dull and he had never liked the odour of incense. It made him
want to sneeze and go to sleep, both at once. Insofar as he ever gave thought to
religion, he leaned towards a sort of loyalty to the demigod Rander
Rehabilitatus. He endured, and he observed. This goddess’s worship in Sanctuary
included two blind adherents. Both carried staffs. Though only one was white, it
was not in the grip of a left-handed man.
Finding his quarry really was as simple as that. On deserting his partner, the
murderous thief had sneered ‘Theba take you,’ and Moonflower had Seen that
goddess, or at least the likeness of her icons and amulets. She had no more than
forty worshippers here, and only this one (part-time) temple. The thief had also
struck away the terror-stick with his right hand and used his left to drive the
dagger into his victim – and to use the staff on Hanse.
There came the time of Communing In Her. Hanse watched what the others did. They
mingled, and a buzz rose as they said nice silly loving peace-things to each
other in the name of Her. The usual meaningless ritual; ‘peace’ was a word and
life and its exigencies were another matter. Hanse mingled.
‘Peace and love to you, brother,’ a woman said from within her wine-dark cowl,
and her hand slipped into Hanse’s robe and he caught her wrist.
‘Peace and defter fingers to you, sister,’ he said quietly, and went around her
towards his goal. To be certain, he came cowl to cowl with the man with the
white stick and, smiling, made a shamefully obscene gesture. The cowl and the