"You might ask yourself what kinds of things I saw before I fled Moria five years ago, Parrus," I hissed, unable to resist snapping at him. "I've dealt with Witch Hunters before. They're very cunning. Why was that Stalker man so interested in whether the rest of us were family? Because magic runs in families and they know it. It was always their habit in Mangalore to round up and put the blood relations of mages to mind search."
"There is no sin in having magical powers," said Hamel. "Only in using them outside the church."
"All they need to do is subject Tomas to a mind search and all will be revealed," I went on "They might not have the manpower to mind search everyone who comes into Glassybri but put that Stalker in a room alone with Tomas and what's to stop him. He's a priest-mage of some power."
"Aye," said Tomas. "Right then, I say we keep going. We've found out the main thing. That she may be, or have been, in the Great Waste at this Sanctuary place."
"If the dreams take place there," I said, "This Sanctuary is no sanctuary."
Hamel was silent for a moment.
"You're certain? That he was making us like him, I mean?" he asked.
"Oh yes."
"So am I now," said Tomas
"Aumaz! How underhand. I'm with you then. We'll go."
Parrus shrugged his shoulders, irritably. "Well if you want to go about this the most difficult way ..." he said. "She's your sister."
Tomas pushed his chair out from the table.
"Finish your meal. I'll go see to the horses." He squeezed my shoulder as he passed. "Thank you for backing me up, sister. I feel we are doing the right thing."
"Yes," said Parrus crossly. "I'm sure you've been a big help, Dion."
Hamel smiled sympathetically at me.
I couldn't help being hurt by Parrus' remark, and it was not until I was following him out into the courtyard, that I realized why he was so annoyed at me. Of course. I had bested him in magic and his pride was hurt. I'd had experiences like this with Parrus before, each one of them confirming that I had been right not to tell him about my powers. It probably hadn't helped that I had bested him at magic that was traditionally the province of mages too. Mages tended to be very touchy about the difference between healing magic and the far more highly regarded magic practiced by only male mages. That was probably the reason he was so scoffing about Wanderer prophecy too.
When we joined him in the inn yard, Tomas was standing by the horses talking heatedly with a small man with protruding rabbit like teeth.
"No!" Tomas was saying.
"So who's she then?" said the small man nodding at me.
"This is my sister," said Tomas sharply.
"Don't look much like you."
"She's my half sister," snapped Tomas. He grabbed the little man by the shirt and pulled his face up to his. "Look Nab, just push off. The place is crawling with Traps and I've got nothing for you.".
"Customer," muttered Tomas to Parrus' questioning look, as the little man disappeared into the crowded stable yard.
We mounted up and left Glassybri as quickly as we could.
Chapter 5
It was only after we had been travelling for two hours that I started to feel we had got away and stopped looking back for pursuers. That afternoon I rode behind Tomas, in order to give Parrus' horse a spell. Parrus' sulks did not last long and he began pointing out interesting sights and chatting to me which I knew he meant, and I accepted, as an apology.
The rain has stopped though the sky was still cloudy. The country we were travelling through was not so very different from the area of Gallia we had left behind. Low rolling hills were topped with stands of mountain ash and sweet oil trees. I had never travelled in this part of Moria before. I had spent most of my life in the north near the capital Mangalore were the countryside was far less fertile and my foster father and I had left Moria by travelling through the wild and sparsely settled mountains there into the Tyronic Duchies. Here in Middle Moria the wide valleys were full of villages clustered round churches or monasteries and small neat farms surrounded with great wheat fields and fruit trees covered in blossom. The Morian houses were noticeably neater and whiter than Gallian houses. In fact they were noticeably neater and whiter than I remembered them being up north too. It did not take me long to realize why. Almost everyone we passed on the road wore the grey and black of the Church of Burning Light. The presence of so many of these aggressively respectable people had affected the whole look of the countryside.
We passed troops of Militia men, all of them in grey and black, marching along the road or assembling in the fields. After we had passed the fifth or sixth group, I asked Hamel.
"Surely there were not always so many Burning Light worshippers in these parts. I'd thought it was a northern sect."
"Ah, but they have made many converts since the Revolution. The Hierarchs have seen to it that the monasteries hereabouts favor Burning Light believers as tenants. No doubt it is the Hierarchs' plan to have as many loyalists as possible here to act as a bulwark against Gallian influences, but rents are low and it has been an opportunity for many of the landless. And the countryside looks well for it, doesn't it. It's never been so prosperous or heavily settled."
"Aye," said Tomas. "But don't be fooled by the fact that no one seems interested in us. Their beady little eyes are watching. The local Witch Hunters will have a very good idea of our movements."
His words took the shine off the pretty country side. I could not help thinking of the Witch Hunters peering out from behind the shutters of the neat little villages we passed though, like hungry cats peering through the bars of a bird cage.
The Church of Burning Light. They were a sect of extreme Aumazites who believed we could bring about the Holy City of Tansa on earth, by following his teachings to the letter. They wore only black and grey and lived strictly and simply, avoiding finery, drinking and other forms of wild living and attending church several times a week. More importantly they believed that all magic not used by the church was evil. When they had come to power five years before, they had forbidden all non-church mages and healers to practice magic of any sort and had arrested and burned those who had disobeyed. Eventually the only sensible course of action had been to go into exile. What a bitter time that had been. Even when we were refugees in the city of Gallia in the days when it still welcomed members of the Burning Light, they had made my life difficult. When they realized I was a Morian mage they spat at me or cursed me. One or two of them had even sought my death.
This made me think of Darmen Stalker and something he had said.
"What was it that that priest said about reclaiming the Plain of Despair?" I asked Hamel.
"Apparently the Church of the Burning Light have a project to make it fertile land again," said Hamel. "I wish them luck with it. I don't doubt it must be a hard task. Have they got very far with it, Tomas?"
"I can't say. I asked about it when I was down South. Supposedly they are building a monastery out there on the site of Ruinac, the old capital. I've never met anyone who went there by choice. Its one of the things they do with all the prisoners the Hand of Truth takes and in the South they have surely taken a lot."
"Hand of Truth?" asked Parrus
"Aye, the branch of the Witch Hunters that deals with blasphemy that is not necessarily related to magic."
"This Great Waste, this is the place they also call the Plain of Despair, isn't it? The place where Smazor's Run occurred?" asked Parrus. "Why haven't they tried to reclaim the land before? It was the best part of Moria before that disaster, wasn't it?"
Even though Parrus was a Gallian he knew all about Smazor's Run. It was the