"Keep our sister off balance as much as you can, Sorgan," Zelana told him. Then she looked at Dahlaine. "I've found that the unexpected always seems to startle Aracia," she said.
"I pretty much agree with the scheme to drop horror stories on Aracia—and her priesthood," Dahlaine replied. "If it goes the way I think it will, the priests will be so frightened that they won't be able to deliver all those flattering orations, and that alone will shake Aracia right down to her roots."
"Your sister has roots, Dahlaine?" the beautiful lady called Ara asked with a sly smile. "If she does, then maybe we could transplant her—in the middle of the night, probably. When her priests wake up and find that she's gone, they won't have any idea at all about where she's gone—or why—and it's likely that their minds will shut down."
"I'm not at all sure that something like that would work, dear lady," Dahlaine replied. "Aracia's priests spend all their time groveling in her throne room whether she's there or not. Groveling is an art form among the priests of Aracia."
"Doesn't that make them sort of meaningless?" Ara's husband suggested.
For the life of him, Andar could not think of any reason at all just why the two neighbors of Lord Veltan were present here on the Victory—except, perhaps, for the glorious food Ara presented to Narasan and his friends when mealtime arrived. Without a doubt, Ara was probably the finest cook in the whole world, but why did she and her husband always participate in these serious meetings?
"Build good forts, friend Narasan," Sorgan said then. "I don't want the bug-people sneaking up behind me when I'm busy swindling holy old Aracia."
"We'll do the best we can, Sorgan," Narasan replied with a grin. "Swindle away for all you're worth, and we'll keep the bug-people out of your hair."
The weather was holding—probably because Dahlaine told her to—so the remaining ships in the fleet made good time as they sailed on down to the mouth of Long-Pass. The ships that had carried Sorgan's Maags down to Aracia's temple had turned around and they'd passed Narasan's fleet two days ago, and they were probably picking up the numerous cohorts that had stayed behind. It wouldn't be much longer before the entire army would be reunited and marching up the pass toward whoever—or whatever—would soon be invading.
THE TEMPLE OF ARACIA
Chapter One
It was late afternoon when the hundred Trogite tubs Sorgan had borrowed from Narasan hauled into the harbor of the temple-town of Zelana's elder sister. Sorgan, Veltan, and Padan were standing in the bow of the Ascension, the lead ship, and Sorgan was more than a little astonished by the enormity of the temple. Narasan had told him that the silly thing was about a mile square—which might be easy to say—but Sorgan realized that saying and seeing were altogether different. "It seems to go on forever," he said to Veltan in an awed sort of voice.
"I'm sure that Aracia likes to think so," Veltan replied.
"Most of it's empty, though," Padan advised. "It's not what I'd call jam-packed with priests and her church hangers-on. I nosed about when we first arrived last autumn, and there aren't really that many people living there."
"Fat Takal Bersla was probably responsible for the overdone size of the silly thing," Veltan added. "It's one of the many myths he's foisted off on my big sister. He claims that there are thousands and thousands of priests living in that absurdity. Aracia's absolutely certain that she has worshipers beyond counting living here, but she never bothers to look. There might be thousands and thousands of creatures living here, but most of them are probably mice."
"Or spiders," Padan added. "I roamed around in that foolishness last fall, and most of the corridors in 'Holy Temple' are jammed to the ceiling with cobwebs."
"It's nothing but a hoax, then?" Sorgan asked.
"A 'holy hoax,' Captain Hook-Beak," Veltan corrected. "Aracia devoutly believes that the absurdity her priests have foisted off on her is a sign of her overwhelming importance."
"That's pathetic," Sorgan declared.
"That's a fair description of my sister, yes," Veltan agreed.
"We've got company coming," Padan said, pointing across the bay. "I'd say that it's most probably fat old Bersla coming out here to find out what we want."
"That thing doesn't look at all like Longbow's canoe," Sorgan observed.
"It's not really the same thing, Sorgan," Veltan agreed. "Longbow's canoe is designed to carry one man. The ugly thing coming out here to meet us is designed for show. Bersla yearns to be important, and he thinks that having hundreds of men paddling him out here makes him look important."
Sorgan squinted at the approaching boat. "It looks to me like it was made out of a single tree trunk."
"That's fairly common here in the Land of Dhrall," Veltan said. "They're called 'dugouts,' probably because making them involves scraping out most of the log with sharp stones. I've never actually seen one built before, but I'm told that most of them are partially hollowed out with fire—very well-controlled fire, of course. There are certain advantages, though. A boat made from a single log wouldn't leak, would it?"
"Maybe not," Sorgan said, "but if it doesn't have a keel, it'll probably roll over any time one of the paddlers sneezes or hiccups."
"That has happened here fairly often, Captain Hook-Beak," Veltan said, smiling. "Stately—but not very bright—Bersla doesn't understand why just yet but it might come to him—eventually."
"That's pure stupidity!" Sorgan declared.
"I'd say that's a fair description of Bersla, yes. You've already met Aracia herself back in my Domain, so you don't really need Bersla to introduce you to her. He's terribly impressed with himself. He'll demand to know why you're here, but I'd suggest that you tell him that you're here to see Aracia herself, not some servant."
"Won't that offend him?"
"Probably, yes. I'd say that you should tell him that you're too important to talk to servants. When we reach the temple, I'll introduce you to my sister and tell her that you'll defend her temple if she'll pay you enough."
"That sounds good to me," Sorgan replied. "How should I behave? Am I supposed to bow to her or any of that other nonsense?"
"A certain amount of arrogance wouldn't hurt. Tell her that you're the mightiest warrior in the world, so you're worth your weight in gold—that sort of thing. One thing you should always remember. Don't let her give you orders. Tell her that you'll do what's necessary to defend her, and you. don't want any interference from her or her priesthood. Get that established right away. You're going to be tearing down a. large part of her temple, so there'll be a lot of screaming from the priests. Tell them that you have her permission, and that they should mind their own business. Pull out your sword, if you have to."