'So the strangest part of it all, after the last caravan left and the girl paid her fine to the Witherer's altar-and you can be sure that the arkhon had a long talking to old Silk Ears-!'
Silent snickered.
'— then we in the village were thinking it would be all the travelers until the flood rains passed, and we two were leaving anyway to come down here Olossi green land way for our three year, and what do we see as we start out the walk? Heya!'
Kesh barely had time to open his mouth for the polite reply before Talker rushed on.
'We go passing an envoy of Ilu, walking up the long west-facing slope as cheerful as a redbird and him walking west on the Barrens Road he told us because we did stop and ask thinking he was headed for the village or maybe Falls or maybe Dritavu, because you know that everyone knows there's a Guardian altar up past Dritavu way that is forbidden but sometimes we see a light up there.'
'He talked as much as you do!' said Silent with another appreciative grin, although this one had no lascivious edge to it.
'I do not! That envoy, he'd have talked all five seasons from then until now if that reeve hadn't flown patrolling overhead and scared the donkey! So we must run after, and the envoy must go on his way west over the Barrens Road. I wonder if he's still alive, or come back to the Hundred as a living man, or only his bones! Say. Did I remember to tell you how we came to get that donkey?'
'We're here,' said Kesh with relief.
Dast Olo rested on a huge platform that some said was a natural escarpment of rugged rock but which Sapanasu's clerks and the Lady's mendicants claimed was the base of an ancient fortress whose pillars and roof and walls had long ago been obliterated by wind and rain and the passing of years. The high ground kept the feet of the village out of the waters, even during a ten-year flood. Dast Olo boasted also a lucky five-set of inns catering to pilgrims.
'Straight to the pier,' he said as they paused at the base of the wagon ramp. 'I'll give you vey for beer at the inn once we get back from the island. In addition to your hire.'
'Seeing so much water makes a man thirsty,' agreed Talker as they trotted up the ramp, not even panting. They had a funny way of loping that made the litter skim smoothly over the ground, never jarring. Their legs looked as thick as pillars. Kesh's legs had begun to sweat freely. He was glad he'd stripped down to a simple knee-length tunic and leather sandals, with nothing to chafe as he walked.
Dast Olo's villagers were farmers, fishers, or marketers catering to the flow of pilgrims. The village was already awake. Most of the fishing boats were long since out on the waters.
'Only a city man sleeps abed after the sun is risen!' proclaimed Talker cheerfully as they trotted through the streets to the pilgrim's pier.
Used to everything and anything, none of the folk out on their errands gave the curtained litter a second glance. The transaction at the pier-the price of a half leya per person was fixed by the temple-went swiftly. He handed two leya to an uninterested man with a flat-bottomed scow. The boatman tucked the coin in his sleeve and waited as Talker and Silent hoisted the litter in and settled themselves cross-legged in the rear with practiced ease, barely rocking the boat. Kesh had an ungainly time of it. He was shaking. Every surface seemed slick under his hands. Once the boat stopped rocking, the boater sighed, then poled away from the stone pier, and pushed along the channel toward the temple island. The closest pier flew the silk lotus banner that marked every temple to the Merciless One. Red petals on white linen: passion and death. Kesh shut his eyes as if by keeping them open he might force the island to recede by dint of the intensity of his desire. The boatman hummed a tuneless melody. Talker said nothing. The wind hummed at Kesh's ears in descant to the boatman's song. Once, they hissed through a stand of reeds. He hung a hand over the side and let it trail through the water, which was gaspingly cold except where they passed through a warmer, saltier eddy.
At last, the boat nudged up against Banner Pier. Kesh scrambled out as soon as the boatman tied up the scow. From here, he could not see Leave-taking Pier. The Devourer told no secrets. Those on their way to worship were shielded from the sight of those departing, in the same manner that those departing could expect to skim home without being seen by every arriving pilgrim.
As Talker and Silent got the litter onto the pier, a bare-chested, dark-haired lad dressed in a novice's kilt walked up to Kesh. He was yawning as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
'You're early.' He grinned skittishly, as if he had just recalled that hierodules dedicated to the Merciless One cast no judgment and made no comment. He gave Keshad the once-over up and down, nodded genially to Talker and Silent as if they came here all the time either as bearers or supplicants, and finally looked over the featureless curtains that concealed the interior of the litter. 'My old aunt spent five years as a Devouring girl before she married,' he added, 'and she used to say that no person comes concealed for any good purpose. 'Who is ashamed to be touched by the Devourer's lips'?'
'It's nothing to do with shame,' said Kesh, a tide of heat and anger swelling over him. His head throbbed, and he wanted it all to be done with and him walking away with what he had come for.
'Eiya! No harm meant! Which house is yours?'
'I'm here to see the Hieros.'
The lad's mouth formed a circle.
A raucous cry split the air. Keshad actually jumped because he was already so on edge, but the others only tipped back their heads as folk always did to mark a reeve passing over along the northern edge of the delta and circling in toward Olossi.
'Uncle Idan says there were more of them reeves back when he was a lad,' said Talker. 'Bad days, since that drought. It just goes to show that when folk don't keep order in their own houses, pretty soon the land begins to suffer. So the gods teach us.'
'Bad luck on them who deserves it,' muttered the lad under his breath, making the cross-fingers sign against ill fortune close against his body, as if he didn't want the others to see. He saw Kesh watching him, flushed, and turned his attention to the two bearers. 'If you will wait in the outer court, I'd much appreciate it.'
'I need the litter brought with me,' said Kesh. 'Then they can go and wait wherever you wish.'
'Are you sure?'
'That I need the litter brought with me?'
'That you want an audience with the Hieros. No one ever asks for that. If you knew her, you'd know-' He flicked hair out of his eyes and sidestepped away. 'No one in sight. Not a soul come so early, and there's none to leave.'
'Damn all,' said the boatman. 'First come in the morning means a long wait, or a return trip made empty. My old arms!'
'Sorry, old man,' said the lad. 'It wasn't a lantern night, last night. You know the rules.'
'I won't be long,' said Kesh, 'as I'm not here to worship the Devourer, just to conduct a bit of business. If you'll wait at Leave-taking Pier, I'll pay you passage back, same as came here.'
The boatman grinned, showing brown teeth and gaps between. 'Over there, then. Same number as coming. That's fair.'
The lad hopped from one foot to the other. It was evident he wanted to ask what was going on, but novices did not ask about the business or predilections or desires or identities, if veiled, of pilgrims. It was against the rules.
'The Devourer eats secrets,' he said at last, with a hopeful glance at Kesh, as if encouraging him to confide a pair or three of mysteries.
'I'm ready to go,' said Kesh.
Unlit lanterns hung from the parallel ranks of posts that marked the path up to the outer court. To one side of the posts, the ground sloped down to the water's edge and a thin strand of pebble beach. To the other side, rockier ground had been manicured into a pleasing arrangement of rock, moss, and pruned miniature trees, these islands separated by raked sand. A big ginny lizard-one of the Devourer's acolytes, as they were called-perched on top of a rock, sunning itself. As they strode past, it cracked open its mouth just enough to show teeth.
A tall lattice fence grown thick with herboria and red and yellow falls of patience marked the beginning of the outer court. They passed through a gap in the lattice fence and walked toward the great gates between rows of benches. The outer court filled the wide space between the workshop wing and the long kitchen hall, which had a thatched roof but no walls. A dozen men and women chopped vegetables at tables, or sweated over hearths and
