Torl came back out to the fort a couple days later, and he had a peculiar expression on his face when he entered Sorgan's chamber.
"Are we having a problem, cousin?" Sorgan asked him.
"You wouldn't believe what's going on in that main temple, cousin," Torl replied. "Those people have all gone crazy."
"Exactly what do you mean by 'crazy,' cousin?" Sorgan asked.
"Right at first they were falling back on simple murders—all the usual ones like knife in the back, cutting throats, and bashing out brains with clubs or big rocks. They've been killing each other by the dozens. I'd say give it another day or so and there'll be open war over there. There's already a lot of blood splashed on the walls, but there'll probably be an ocean of blood when they move on to a fullscale war."
"Were you able to locate Aracia's goldroom?"
"Not yet. I came back out here to warn you that things are very dangerous in that part of the temple."
"I appreciate that, Torl. I've already got men blocking off every corridor that leads to the main temple."
"Good thinking, Sorgan. Have you heard anything from Veltan yet?"
"Not a word. I'd say that he's got a family emergency on his hands right now. His older sister just vanished—or just stopped being anyplace anymore, and that might bring down a whole lot of trouble. Get on back to the main temple, cousin, but watch your back. We really want to find that gold storeroom. We're nailed down here until we locate it."
Chapter Two
It was about midmorning on the following day when the fat priest called Bersla came around the outer wall of the temple to Sorgan's makeshift fort. Sorgan was just a bit surprised by the fact that Bersla was traveling alone. If the oarsman Platch had been right, Bersla never went anywhere all by himself.
"Well, now," Sorgan called from the outer wall of his makeshift fort, "if it isn't Holy Takal Bersla. Does Lady Aracia want to talk with me about something?" He watched the Fat Man closely, and, as he'd more or less anticipated, Bersla's face suddenly went very pale. Then he pulled himself together. "I speak for Holy Aracia in a matter of some urgency, mighty Sorgan. It would appear that the foul servants of ThatCalledtheVlagh have infiltrated the Holy Temple, and even as we speak, they are creeping about with murder only on their minds. Now, I, of course, would be more than willing to face the foul servants of the Vlagh alone, but Holy Aracia has commanded me to speak with you."
"I'll be more than willing to listen, Takal Bersla," Sorgan declared. "Let's keep this sort of to ourselves, though. One of my men at the gate will show you the way to my quarters, and I'll meet you there."
Sorgan was rubbing his hands together as he went down the narrow flight of stairs toward the central yard of his fort. If anybody in the whole temple would know exactly where Aracia's gold was hidden, it would be Fat Bersla.
He went into the room where he usually slept, and a few minutes later a burly Maag escorted the priest into Sorgan's room. After the sailor had left, Sorgan squinted at the priest. "I hadn't heard that the bug-people had managed to get inside the temple, and I've got men watching just about every square foot of the place. How did they manage to get past my people?"
Bersla floundered for a moment, and then he said, "Tunnels, I've been told. As I understand it, these creatures can chew their way through solid rock."
"Indeed they can, Takal," Sorgan replied. "During the first war off to the west in Lady Zelana's Domain, thousands of bug-people came swarming up out of tunnels that'd taken them centuries to chew through solid rock. Tunnels are the most effective way to get under walls and buildings without being seen. Now, then, let's get something out of the way right now. These sneaking bugs aren't spiders, are they? If I even mention the word 'spider,' I'll be lucky to have a dozen men left by morning."
Bersla looked a bit startled. "I'm sure they aren't spider-bugs. Spiders have eight legs, don't they?"
"That's what I've been told," Sorgan replied.
"We're safe, then. The bugs crawling through the tunnels under the temple have six legs, not eight."
"That's a relief. Now, then, how are we going to go about this? If I put several thousand men in the temple hallways, they should be able to push the bugs off balance."
"You are the warrior, mighty Sorgan," Bersla replied. "I know little or nothing of such things."
"All right, then," Sorgan said. "How much will you pay me to keep you alive?"
"I know very little about money, brave Sorgan," Bersla admitted. "I do, however, have access to many blocks of the yellow metal your people call gold."
"There's the answer right there, Takal Bersla," Sorgan said. "Each evening when you're still alive, give one of those blocks to my cousin Torl. One is an easy number to remember, so neither one of us will be confused. Let's start with a couple dozen of my men. If Torl thinks that won't be enough, I'll send more to guard you."
Bersla heaved a huge sigh of relief, and his hands almost stopped trembling.
"I'll send an escort with you back to the main temple, Takal," Sorgan said. "You won't have to go back outside the walls now. I've got men blocking off the corridors, but they'll let you pass. After all, you and I are friends now, aren't we?"
"Indeed we are, mighty warrior," Bersla declared. "Indeed we are."
Sorgan probably should not have been particularly surprised the next morning when the tiny priestess Alcevan came out to the fort with a request that was almost identical to the one Takal Bersla had made the previous afternoon. At least, unlike Bersla, she didn't try to foist on Sorgan an absurdity about bug-people creeping through tunnels as Bersla had. "The Church of Divine Aracia is now divided, Captain Hook-Beak," she declared. "The one who elevated himself to 'High Priest' believes that he alone can speak for Holy Aracia, and he has dispatched assassins to murder those of us who know full-well that his self-aggrandizement did not come from Holy Aracia. Since I live only to serve her, Bersla has commanded his henchmen to concentrate on me in advance of all others, for I am the true leader of the clergy in Aracia's holy temple. I cannot permit him to usurp my position. So I must be protected from Bersla's villains. I will pay you much to defend me. Name your price, and gladly will I pay."
"Oh, I don't know," Sorgan said. "How does one gold block a day sound to you?"
"Most reasonable, Captain Hook-Beak. Should I send the gold here?"