Venessi's faded blond hair, cropped just below her ears, waved in uncertain curls around her round face. Her eyes, which appeared green in some light, were frigid blue in the early morning. Hederick saw in Venessi's face the same round nose and protruding eyes that he bore.
'That's your mother?' the priest asked beneath his breath. 'The round one with the nervous hands?'
'That's her.'
'I'd certainly not take her on unarmed,' Tarscenian said sotto voce.
Hederick waited for Venessi to order the attack. Could even a man such as Tarscenian stand long against the united villagers? The priest had spent a few moments ear shy;lier in special prayer, muttering rhymes and tracing fig shy;ures on the ground with colored sand. He seemed to think that would evoke his Seeker gods to protect him. But Hederick pulled at the stranger's hair. 'Tarscenian, maybe we should …'
'Hush, lad. I'm well-armed, and with more than a sword.'
Tarscenian's pack was too small to hold more than food, bedroll, and perhaps a small hand weapon or two. 'A knife?'
'Ah, you disappoint me. I am a priest; I have my gods at my back. Follow my lead.' Tarscenian's head swung to the left. 'That's the building where the precious icons are stored? The stone-and-daub hovel?'
'The prayer house.'
'It is locked?'
'Only from the inside, when someone is within. It's for the use of the common folk. Mother prays in her own house.'
The priest grunted. Then the convivial Tarscenian of the night before was back.
'Greetings, people of Garlund!' he boomed. 'I bring you joyous news! I am Tarscenian, Seeker priest. I have news of wondrous gods who can ease your lives of strife and trouble and promise you immortality!
'What a splendid community, and what pious residents. I am fortunate to have the opportunity to visit with you and bring you the word of the New Gods.'
'Stranger,' Venessi said coldly, 'you are not welcome here. Nor is this boy.'
Tarscenian stepped back as if slapped. Anger colored his face. 'You are Venessi-the one who dared to banish this brave lad? This boy who last evening helped me beat off a deadly predator thrice his size? Truly he walks in the grace of the New Gods-yet you reward him with banish shy;ment? Don't you care about your soul, Venessi?'
Tarscenian stood taller. His voice was so deep that it growled like thunder. 'Have you no idea how much you-and these poor folk who have followed you in inno shy;cent trust-have sinned in the eyes of the New Gods? Do you intend to make that sin even greater?'
'Kill them,' Venessi snarled to the villagers.
Hederick closed his eyes. Certainly Tarscenian could not hold off so many armed villagers. No doubt the priest was afraid-he was mumbling distractedly. The villagers had formed a ring around Tarscenian, Hederick, and Venessi, but they had not yet made their move. Hesitantly, Hederick opened his eyes again.
'Kill them!' Venessi screamed. 'Tiolanthe orders it!'
The men and women shuffled their feet. They ex shy;changed nervous looks, yet none dared act. When the Seeker priest finally spoke, his voice was gentle. 'Good people of Garlund, has Venessi ever shown you a sign from this supposed god, Tiolanthe?'
No answer came from the villagers, but Venessi shouted, 'I order you to slay them!'
Tarscenian ignored her. 'Has this Tiolanthe appeared to any of you? Has he given you a personal sign of his regard? Have you any evidence that he is more than this deluded woman's imagination?'
Furtive looks passed between husbands and wives. Venessi's face grew livid in her rage. 'Begone, stranger!'
she shrieked. 'And take that sinner of a boy with you.'
'I challenge you, heretic,' Tarscenian said, facing her anger with calm confidence. 'My Seeker gods demand a duel. You speak for this Tiolanthe. Do you consent to a duel?'
Venessi, the paleness of her face giving way to mottled pink and red, gawked around the circle of villagers. 'Gar-lunders, you are ensorceled!' she cried. 'He is a witch! You have pledged your lives to me and my god!'
'I'm no witch, and no mage, either, Venessi,' Tarscen shy;ian responded. 'I am only a priest for the real gods. Do you accept my challenge? My gods will act through me, yours through you. Or would you prefer to concede defeat now and allow these poor folk to begin working immediately to save their tarnished souls?'
'Tiolanthe, destroy him!' Venessi raised her fleshy arms, then gestured toward Tarscenian with a flourish. 'Destroy them both'.'
The observers took in a breath and held it-all but Tarscenian. He cocked his head like a bird viewing the curious movements of an insect. After a time, Venessi low shy;ered her arms and smoothed her dress. She looked flushed but stubborn. 'My god speaks when he chooses, not when heretics demand,' she said primly.
Tarscenian set Hederick upon the ground without com shy;ment. The priest held his hands skyward and shouted, 'Omalthea the Motherlord! Sauvay of the blessed revenge! Cadithal, Ferae, Zeshun! Bring hope to this village! The people here long to know you, to feel your approbation. If you are loving gods, give them the sign they so desper shy;ately need!' He swung his hands down and out to the sides.
Fire danced around him in a ring, leaping between him and the watchers. 'Show them your power!' Tarscenian demanded. 'Show them that you, unlike their false god, are not afraid to demonstrate your force to those who would
believe.' The fire ebbed and surged. Then it vaulted over the heads of the people and encircled them. Flame crack shy;led.
Tarscenian gestured, and the blaze died. 'The Seeker gods are prepared to accept you, people of Garlund. Renounce this false deity.'
'No!' Sweat beaded Venessi's red face as she hurled a desperate warning at the villagers. 'This is a test, you fools! Can't you see that as soon as you accept this cheat's words, you are through? Has my work been for naught? Have you learned nothing?'
The people seemed barely to hear her. Tarscenian said quietly, 'My New Gods have provided further proof, Gar-lunders. Open your storehouses. At my words, they are full.'
'But they are empty,' one man faltered. 'We've been rationing-'
'No longer. Seeker gods provide for their faithful. Open your storehouses, people of Garlund. Behold your new riches.'
Venessi's eyes bulged, and she made a choking sound. As always when she was having a vision, she fell to her knees and groveled in the dust. 'Tiolanthe, help me!' she cried.
But this time, the villagers paid her no heed. They plucked the keys from her waist, unlocked the swinging doors of the storehouses, and gaped at enough food to feed the village ten times over.
'Praise the New Gods!' cried one scrawny woman. The crowd cheered and surged forward, filling their arms, aprons, and pockets with much-needed foodstuffs.
Tarscenian directed his next words to Venessi. His gray eyes were sympathetic. 'You may keep your house, Venessi. I will take up residence in the prayer house. My duty is to tutor the villagers in the true religion. Especially brave, wise Hederick.' He patted the boy's shoulder.
'Hederick will be released from field work. He is too frail for coarse labor, anyway. His talents are more cerebral. He will be my assistant.'
Venessi watched with eyes like stones. Silently swear shy;ing retribution on the evil child who had brought about her downfall, she returned to her house. She remained there, closeted behind locked doors, for four days, while the grateful Garlunders feasted and celebrated.
'… and Sauvay, Zeshun, Cadithal, Ferae, and Omal-thea,' Hederick finished, anxiously watching Tarscenian's face for sign of approval.
The priest nodded. 'You're a quick learner, son-you know both pantheons and their histories by heart, and your prayers are wonders of rhetoric. Your gift of words will stand you in good stead, should you ever consider joining the priestly orders.' Tarscenian reached for a wooden tray that held a half-eaten loaf of bread and a porcelain tub filled with soft butter. 'Another portion of this blessed bread?' he asked.
Hederick nodded eagerly, grateful for the words of praise and the attention he received from Tarscenian. The boy, who had seldom known kindness before the arrival of the Seeker priest, had become the man's near-constant
