The Temples Of Ayocan

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 ma

«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 a

«I have followed the warrior's way all my life,» said Blade. «When I first heard the call of the god Ayocan, I asked him if I should forswear that way, and don the robes of one of his priests. No, said the god. That is to waste the strong spirit you have fed all the years of your life as a warrior. Come forward, and put your sword into my service, and in time I shall receive your spirit with joy.» Speaking of a personal dialogue with the god was another gamble. Blade had overheard hints of such things in the temple mounds of Chiribu during his captivity. But he couldn't be sure if Ayocan was supposed to be the kind of god who appeared and spoke to men.

Apparently Ayocan was. Isgon nodded, with a look of great respect on his face. «You were wise to heed the call of the god, and we honor you for your wisdom as much as for your service this day and on future days. Many who come offering to serve Ayocan do not show this wisdom. They try to force their spirits along paths where they ca

He nodded. «Then is it your decision that I may serve Ayocan as I wish, as I have said?»

«Indeed it is,» said Isgon. «Long have we wished such a sword as yourself, to wield against the enemies of the god here in Gonsara.»

«I will not be your only sword for long,» said Blade. «Find me those men that I have described, and there will be many swords to serve Ayocan in Gonsara.»

That seemed as good, an exit line as any, so Blade turned on his heel and strode toward the door of the chamber. The priests who had been escorting him had to scurry to catch him, losing some of their dignity in the process.

That was entirely all right with Blade. He wanted to get the message across that he stood in awe only of Ayocan, not of his human servants. He wanted to establish himself as a man with his own reputation, his own notions of proper ways to serve the god, and a short way with those who would deny him either. The more thoroughly he could establish that reputation, the more freedom of action he would be likely to have. Of course, he might overreach himself and end by being expelled-or even murdered. But if he didn't have reasonable freedom of movement, he would be unable to carry out his mission.

He snapped himself quickly out of this moment of philosophizing, to realize that the priests were leading him down still another flight of stairs. Familiar smells, now, the smells of the prison corridor, where the Death-Vowed and the temple prostitutes and slaves led their miserable existence. Close-packed and unwashed humanity, rancid cooking oil, smoke, a faint but unmistakable hint of the drugs. The priests led Blade along this corridor at a trot. There were only four of them now. Where had the fifth one gone?