"Not necessarily," noted Athgar. "We don't know how well organized this army of theirs is. The duke appeared to take great delight in showing up the father general. Do you think it's a weakness we might exploit?"
"And here I thought I was the tactician. What have you got in mind?"
"We try to sow distrust amongst the leaders, maybe cause them to believe that the other seeks to take all the credit for their success."
"That's not a bad idea," said Natalia. "We'll keep our ears open tonight for anything we might be able to exploit. If nothing else, we should be able to get a better idea of their numbers."
Athgar nodded. "It sounds like we have the beginnings of a plan. Now all we have to do is spy on the enemy while avoiding getting killed ourselves." He chuckled.
"What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking about what will happen if they discover our secret."
"Which is?"
"They'll try to kill us. I told you coming to the city wasn't a good idea!"
The estate occupied by Father General Hargild was situated on the edge of town, close to the western gate upon a large plot of land. The carefully manicured lawns encircled a house that formed a solid block of two floors. From the exterior, there was little to mark it as the property of the Church, but once they drew closer, they saw the guards, their distinctive grey tabards easily identifying them as Temple Knights of Saint Cunar.
When the carriage came to a halt, Athgar immediately climbed down. Natalia, however, lingered for a moment at the top of the single step, using the height advantage to see over the other guests.
"Coming?" he asked.
She stepped from the carriage. "Yes, I was just looking for the duke."
"And did you find him?"
"I did, as a matter of fact. He's over to our left, along with a group of knights."
"In that case," said Athgar, "we'd better seek him out. If we want to learn more about the army, that's the best place to start." He took her hand, guiding her through the crowd. There were soldiers here in the livery of the duke, but the rest of the guests favoured less military-styled clothing, preferring instead to dress in their finest clothes.
"I feel a little underdressed," noted Natalia.
"As do I, but there's little we can do about it. We'll simply have to make the best of it. Who are all these people?"
"Likely his knights, though he might have a baron or two who serves under him as well."
"I suppose it only makes sense. He can't command an army all by himself."
They passed by a group of Temple Knights, resplendent in their plate armour.
"How many of those do you think they have?" asked Athgar.
"I don't know," she confessed, "but the night is early yet. Tongues are bound to loosen once the drink starts flowing."
"You think the Temple Knights will get drunk?"
"No, but the duke's men might. With any luck, we'll be able to pry some information from them."
Natalia halted, leading Athgar to almost run into her. "Something wrong?"
"I've lost sight of the duke. I could have sworn he was just over that way."
"You must be the mages Sir Raynald was talking about?" came an unfamiliar voice.
Athgar turned, coming face to face with a man wearing brown robes, the axe of Mathew firmly emblazoned on his chest.
"And you are?" asked Natalia.
"Brother Rickard," the man replied, "lay brother of the Temple of Saint Mathew."
"Not a Temple Knight, then?" asked Athgar.
"Alas, no. I am here to treat the wounded, not fight."
"We have wounded?"
"Saints, no," said Brother Rickard. "I meant with the army."
"I thought this get-together was for the warriors," said Athgar, "though I mean no offence."
"I have taken none," the Mathewite responded. "The fact is I doubt I would even be here, but the father general wanted it known our order is here to give support where needed."
"So I take it you'll be marching with the army?"
"I will, though it pains me to do so."
"Pains you?" said Natalia. "That's a strange thing to say."
"It is," the man continued, "but I must confess I see the entire crusade as being antithetical to the teachings of the Church."
"Then why travel here at all? Surely your superiors didn't send you?"
"That is correct. I volunteered, and before you ask me why, let me explain. It is my calling to look after the sick and wounded. Though I disagree with this crusade, I cannot, in all consciousness, sit by and ignore the suffering that often results from such conflict."
"I admire your convictions," said Athgar. "Are there others who share your views?"
The Mathewite smiled. "I imagine there are, but I am not here to answer for such things."
"Tell me," said Natalia, "you say you disagree with the crusade. I'm curious as to why?"
"The Church was built on acceptance, and yet here we are attacking others because of their beliefs. Mind you, the enemy deserves what's coming against them."
"Why would you say that?" she asked.
The brother displayed a stunned expression. "Has no one told you?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"They are worshippers of Death Magic."
"Where did you hear that?"
"It's true," he continued. "They pray to their goddess of death, Rikasi."
Natalia was about to ask another question, but she was interrupted by a man in brown robes calling from across the room.
"You must excuse me," said Brother Rickard. "My captain calls. Perhaps I'll see you again later? If not, I'm sure we'll see each other once we march."
"Certainly," said Athgar.
Natalia turned to her husband. "Tell me about Rikasi. I'm not familiar with her."
"Neither is he if he thinks she's the goddess of death."
"What is she the goddess of, then? And is she really worshipped by the Therengians?"
"Rikasi is not the goddess of death," insisted Athgar, "at least not in the traditional sense. She guards the gates to the Underworld, making sure only those of bad character pass. Should a Therengian find himself there by mistake, they can rest assured
