‘But everything I own is here.’
‘I’m sure that’ll be a great comfort to you when your toes are on fire.’
‘Do you really think I’m in that much danger?’ Tanjin asked in a weak voice, looking up from his task.
Sparhawk nodded. ‘That much and more. I’d estimate that you’ll be lucky to live out the week if you stay here in Dabour.’
The doctor began to tremble violently as Sephrenia slipped her splinted arm back into the sling. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said as they started towards the door ‘What about that?’ He pointed at the fairy swooping through the air near the window.
‘Oh,’ Sephrenia said. ‘Sorry I almost forgot about her.’ She mumbled a few words and made a vague gesture.
The bumblebee went back to batting its head against the window.
It was dark when they emerged from the apothecary’s shop into the nearly deserted square.
‘It’s not very much,’ Sparhawk said dubiously.
‘It’s more than we had before. At least we know how to cure Ehlana. All we need to do now is to find one of these objects.’
‘Would you be able to tell if Arasham’s talisman has any real power?’ ‘I think so.’
‘Good. Perraine says that Arasham preaches every night. Let’s go and find him. I’ll listen to a dozen sermons if it puts me close to a cure.’
‘How do you propose to get it away from him?’
‘I’ll think of something.’
A black-robed man suddenly blocked their path. ‘Stop right there,’ he commanded.
‘What’s your problem, neighbour?’ Sparhawk asked him.
‘Why are you not at the feet of holy Arasham?’ the robed man asked accusingly
‘We were just on our way,’ Sparhawk replied.
‘All Dabour knows that holy Arasham speaks to the multitudes at sundown. Why are you deliberately absenting yourselves?’
‘We arrived only today,’ Sparhawk explained, ‘and I had to seek medical attention for my sister’s injured arm.’
The fanatic scowled suspiciously at Sephrenia’s sling. ‘Surely you did not consult with the wizard Tanjin?’ he said in an outraged tone
‘When one is in pain, one does not ask to see the healer’s credentials,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘I can assure you, however, that the doctor used no witchcraft. He set the broken bone and splinted it for me in the same way any other physician would have.’
‘The righteous do not consort with wizards,’ the zealot declared stubbornly
‘I’ll tell you what, neighbour,’ Sparhawk said pleasantly ‘Why don’t I break your arm? Then you can visit the doctor yourself. If you watch him very closely, you should be able to tell if he’s using witchcraft or not.’
The fanatic stepped back apprehensively.
‘Come now, friend,’ Sparhawk told him enthusiastically, ‘be brave. It won’t hurt all that much, and think of how much holy Arasham will appreciate your zeal in rooting out the abomination of witchcraft.’
‘Could you tell us where we might find the place where holy Arasham speaks to the multitudes?’ Sephrenia interposed. ‘Our souls hunger and thirst for his words.’
‘Over that way,’ the nervous man said, pointing. ‘You can see the light from the torches.’
‘Thanks, friend,’ Sparhawk said, bowing slightly. He frowned. ‘How is it that you yourself are not at the services this evening?’
‘I – uh – I have a sterner duty,’ the fellow declared. ‘I must seek out those who are absent without cause and deliver them up for judgement.’
‘Ah,’ Sparhawk said, ‘I see.’ He turned away, then turned back. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to have me break your arm for you? It won’t take but a minute.’
The fanatic hurried away from them.
‘Must you threaten everyone you meet, Sparhawk?’ Sephrenia asked.
‘He irritated me’
‘You irritate very easily, don’t you.’ He considered it. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘I suppose I do. Shall we go?’
They went through the dark streets of Dabour until they reached the tents pitched on the outskirts. Some distance towards the south a ruddy glow pulsed up towards the glittering stars. They moved quietly past the tents towards the light.
The flickering torches were set on tall poles surrounding a kind of natural amphitheatre on the southern edge of town, a sort of depression between two hills. The hollow was filled with Arasham’s followers, and the deranged holy man himself stood atop a large boulder halfway up the side of one of the hills. He was tall and gaunt with a long grey beard and bushy black eyebrows. His voice was strident as he harangued his followers, but his words were difficult to understand because of his lack of teeth. When Sparhawk and Sephrenia joined the crowd, the old man was in the middle of an extended and highly involuted proof of God’s special favour – which had, he declared, been bestowed upon him in a dream. There were huge logical gaps in his argument and great leaps of what passed for faith here in Rendor.
‘Is he making any sense at all?’ Sephrenia whispered to Sparhawk in a puzzled tone as she removed the splints and the sling.
‘Not that I can detect,’ he whispered back.
‘I didn’t think so. Does the Elene God actually encourage that sort of hysterical gibberish?’
‘He never has to me’
‘Can we get any closer?’
‘I don’t think so. The crowd’s pretty thick in front of where he’s standing.’
Arasham then turned to one of his favourite topics, a denunciation of the Church. The organized Elene religion, he maintained, was cursed by God for its failure to recognize his exalted status as the chosen and beloved spokesman of the Most High.
‘But the wicked shall be punished!’ he lisped in a toothless shriek with spittle flying from his lips. ‘My followers are invincible! Be patient for but a little more time, and I will raise my holy talisman and lead you into war against them! They will send their accursed Church Knights to do war upon us, but fear them not! The power of this holy relic will sweep them before us like chaff before the wind!’ He held something high over his head in his tightly clenched fist. ‘The spirit of the Blessed Eshand himself has confirmed this to me.’
‘Well?’ Sparhawk whispered to Sephrenia.
‘He’s too far away,’ she murmured. ‘I can’t feel anything one way or the other. We’re going to have to get closer. I can’t even tell what he’s holding.’