chanting and a whiff of incense. The crowd parted, and three robed priests bore into view the bloodforge. It was held by an iron tripod and carried on a wooden frame. It glowed and flickered with power.
The canting worshipers placed it carefully on the altar. Now, from the opposite corner of the room, came a loud wailing scream. The crowd again drew back, this time to allow passage of three burly men, stripped to the waist, their faces concealed by hoods. Between them, they dragged a portly man, totally naked, his chins wobbling in fear. His stomach swayed obscenely from side to side. The chanting picked up rhythm, and the crowd began to sway in time to it.
'What are they doing?' whispered Noph to Shar, who stood next to him. She hushed him with a gesture.
The servants placed the man on the altar, face to the ceiling. Two held his arms, the other his legs, even as he struggled and screamed.
A figure stepped forward, red-robed, a silver circlet round his neck. From it dangled a medallion inscribed with designs that Noph could not clearly make out. The priest lifted his hands and face in appeal.
' О Mighty Ysdar, hear this day our prayer. Feel the power of our sacrifice. Join with us as we feast.'
In a circle of motion, he whirled, drawing a long, curved, cruel knife from beneath his robes. He slashed in one quick motion, lengthwise down the body of the victim, who gave a ringing scream of agony. The worshipers closest to the altar rushed forward, their bodies hiding the victim, whose screams grew fainter and finally died away.
In a few moments, the crowd at the altar had cleared. The victim's body was no more than a shredded mass of flesh and bone. Some in the crowd were still wiping their mouths.
Noph swayed on his feet. In his travels thus far, he'd never seen anything this horrible. Next to him, he sensed rather than heard Kern reaching beneath his robe for his sword.
'Wait!' Trandon put a hand out to stay the paladin.
Kern shook his head angrily. 'I cannot watch this any longer, Trandon. It must be stopped.' He looked around at the rest of the party. 'Are you ready?'
Artemis stepped back a pace. 'Not yet. Not while there are ten times as many of them as there are of us.'
'Coward!' Kern hissed at him. 'I always knew you were a coward!'
Shar joined Entreri. 'He's right, Kern. There's no point in just going out there and getting slaughtered.'
Kern ignored her words. 'Noph?'
Noph stood for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he stepped forward. 'You're right. This can't go on. We have to do something. We have to fight for something right, even if we're going to get killed trying.'' He looked at Kern. 'Maybe I was wrong. Maybe ifs not just profit and loss.'
Kern clapped his shoulder. 'Lord Garkim? What say you and your men?'
Garkim smiled tightly. 'As I told you earlier, Sir Knight, I recognize the danger to my homeland. And I can see what will happen to all the kingdoms of the world if these people are not stopped. I do not choose to fight. I must fight.'
From the back of the alcove, a quiet voice said, 'Yes. We must fight.' Ingrar came forward. His face was glowing, and, astonishingly, he was smiling, as if he had become privy to an enormous secret and was bursting to tell it.
'Ingrar! What is it?' cried Noph.
'Go now and fight! Don't ask more! You must go now!' The young pirate's urgency infected even Artemis and Shar.
Kern lifted his sword. 'Ready?'
'No.' Trandon again lifted a hand. 'Kern, you, I, Sharessa, and the guards must create as much of a circle around us as possible. Lord Garkim, Entreri, and Noph, move with us, and when we come near the altar, seize the bloodforge.'
'What then?' asked Noph.
Trandon looked at him, a corner of his mouth quirking cynically. 'Then we try to get to the door. Ingrar, stay here, and when you sense the forge is near, start for the outside. I don't think you'll need anyone to guide you; you seem to feel the forge in some other way.' He lifted his hands. 'First let's see if we can get their attention.'
He spoke an arcane word, and from his fingertips a blazing ball of light leapt forward and streaked across the crowd, exploding against the far wall. Shrieks came from worshipers, who became sudden torches, their robes igniting in a fiery display of arcane power.
'Now!' yelled Kern. The company surged forward. Kern's hammer glowed in the light of the bloodforge as the heavy blunt weapon rose and fell, driving the devotees of the Fallen Temple before him. Trandon had time for a blast of lightning that reduced two worshipers to smoking cinders; then he caught up his staff to defend himself against an onslaught of squealing Doeganers. Sharessa's sword flashed in and out, parrying and thrusting as she tried by the sheer skill of her swordplay to keep the howling mob at bay. By her side, one, then another of Lord Garkim's guards was overborne and dragged away.
Noph, his dagger out, defended himself as best he could against the clutching, bloodstained fingers of the crowd. They fought their way to the altar and surrounded it. Noph, Entreri, and Garkim grabbed the tripod holding the bloodforge and lifted-and stopped in frustration.
'It's too heavy,' Noph yelled to Kern above the din. 'We can't lift it.' The forge glowed malevolently, and Noph realized something with a shock. 'It doesn't want us to lift it. It knows what it wants.'
He looked around him. In Sharessa's face and in that of the remaining palace guards, he saw only despair. Kern was fighting like a madman, his face streaked with blood, his eyes shining with something very like happiness. Trandon's face reflected only cold, calculating concentration as he batted away flashing blades with his staff. Garkim and Entreri had drawn their swords and were helping to hold back the crowd so intent on tearing them apart. The Doeganers fought without skill, but their sheer numbers told in their favor. The fight couldn't last long now.
From the side of the temple came a thunderclap. With a loud crack, a portion of the dome fell, crushing screaming worshipers beneath it. A light shone through from the sky, a more than natural light that bathed the interior of the hellish temple in ethereal radiance. Noph could see the bones in his hand shining red through the skin.
From the side of the temple, Ingrar advanced from the alcove. The light shone directly on him, almost lifted him, so that he seemed to glide rather than to walk. His blind eyes, deep and dark, were opened wide and seemed to be filled with an inner fire.
Around him, as he advanced through the ranks of the cultists, silence fell, and the struggling mass around the altar parted to let Him through. Noph seemed to hear from far off a kind of chanting in a language at once unknown and yet hauntingly familiar.
Ingrar stood beside the bloodforge, its surface now flaring with sparks and flashes of magical energy. He lifted his hands toward the gaping ceiling and to the light that fell upon him The rays increased until they were blinding in intensity, yet even if the viewers shut their eyes, they could still see Ingrar standing in an attitude of total supplication.
The chanting rose in volume until it filled the temple. Now Noph could see that Ingrar was no longer alone. Next to him-impossibly, within him-stood another figure, that of a tall warrior, a flowing beard touching his chest. In one hand he held a great warhammer; his other arm ended in a stump where the hand should have been. From his mouth and from Ingrar's lips came thunderous words that seemed to shake all the temple and the city beyond.
'I am come,' cried Ingrar. 'I am come to purge the land of those who blaspheme in my name. Let all ye who pretend to speak in the name of Tyr beware, for my wrath is righteous and my judgment is harsh.'
Kern was on his knees, shielding his eyes with one hand, the other stretched out in prayer. Ingrar-or was he now the embodiment of mighty Tyr himself? — looked at him, and it seemed to Noph that a smile touched the bearded lips of the man-god.
'Rise, Kern, paladin of Phlan. You have been a hammer in the cause of right. But you — his gaze swept over the worshipers of the Fallen Temple- you have dragged down my name and made it a curse in this land. For you, I have no mercy.'
The figure and Ingrar lifted their hands together. They blazed forth fire that seemed to burn without heat. It swept across the temple; dimly, above its roar, Noph heard screams and saw the adherents of the Fallen Temple claw at their bodies. Some pulled their robes off, and Noph saw that beneath their robes their flesh was melting
