that. It appeared to him as though the Hother was going to leave him with the priest. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“I will, Hother. But you will bring this one inside before you unlock him.” The Hother pirate growled with impatience and picked up the man, stiff as a board and threw him roughly inside the temple.
“There! Inside he is. Nah, PAY ME!” shouted the pirate. Hugh knew this Hother must be a powerful Smiter to talk to a priest of Qra’z in that way. Not because the priest was more powerful in magic than this Smiter, although that might be the case, rather it was that priests of Qra’z commanded respect under Arnathian law. Arnathians would tolerate no less.
The priest shot the Smiter a dark look and reached into his pouch producing a handful of Arnathian gold crowns.
“Nah, nah, priestie. Tha’ won’t do at all! I need stone currency. I’m for tha Eastern Kingdoms affer hare! Pay up!”
“Indeed,” said the beady eyed priest. Hugh did his best to remain silent and forgotten as the pair haggled. He hoped the Smiter would unlock him without binding his hands. A wild hope. His eye muscles had been unaffected by the spell and he was able to glance around; the temple was completely empty. A lone brazier smoked with incense on the altar at the far end of the sanctuary. The temple was lavishly decorated in the fashion of temples elsewhere in the empire. Hugh had never set foot in this temple, he somehow had never given any thought to what it looked like on the inside. The floor of the sanctuary was covered with luxurious carpeting and on the walls hung fine tapestries and paintings, while large golden statutes watched from alcoves. Clearly, sermons in this room were meant to remind the faithful of the ever-present greed of their god, he thought wryly. It seemed to Hugh that everywhere he looked the eyes in the paintings and on the statutes watched him, was a threat -daring him to act. With thoughts of defiance, Hugh vowed to act and hoped he could kill one of these men in the process.
The priest opened a pouch that had been hidden deep inside his robes and paid the Hother in gem currency. Consisting of small disks, or coins, made from rough emerald and ruby stones not fit for jewelry, gem currency had been used in Hybrand prior to occupation and was still in use in the Eastern Kingdoms. Nothing more was said between the two as the Hother strode toward the door. Before stepping out the surly man waggled a finger at Hugh and muttered something unintelligible before flinging open the door and leaving. Feeling his muscles suddenly relax as he was unlocked, Hugh shoved his hand into his pocket to reach for something that would help him end this situation. He was amazed at how much his joints hurt with the movement, even though he had only been under the spell for a few minutes. He pulled the wormwood rod from his pocket and held it to his throat as he rolled on the floor. But he hesitated before speaking the incantation.
Maybe I can escape , he thought . This is just a priest .
Fool, you know the routine! End it, now! he answered himself. With renewed determination he chose to do his duty. He forced the tip of the rod into his throat and tried to utter the incantation, but no sound came out. He almost cried with desperation, but his voice made no sound. He shoved the rod back in his pocket.
“Hmm, hmm,” mumbled the priest. “Why do you try to speak in my sanctuary? I wonder. No use. There is a silence spell at work here. Only I may speak, and those whom I choose to allow.” The skinny priest chuckled and grabbed the Cklathman with unusual strength, hoisting him to his feet. Beady black eyes in a flat face trying to read him over a hooked nosed made the man look something like an owl. “Sacrilege is not tolerated in here. Hmm.”
With one hand on his golden dragon pendant, and the other on Hugh’s arm, the skinny man led him to a staircase behind the altar. Hugh had already
“I will, Hother. But you will bring this one inside before you unlock him.” The Hother pirate growled with impatience and picked up the man, stiff as a board and threw him roughly inside the temple.
“There! Inside he is. Nah, PAY ME!” shouted the pirate. Hugh knew this Hother must be a powerful Smiter to talk to a priest of Qra’z in that way. Not because the priest was more powerful in magic than this Smiter, although that might be the case, rather it was that priests of Qra’z commanded respect under Arnathian law. Arnathians would tolerate no less.
The priest shot the Smiter a dark look and reached into his pouch producing a handful of Arnathian gold crowns.
“Nah, nah, priestie. Tha’ won’t do at all! I need stone currency. I’m for tha Eastern Kingdoms affer hare! Pay up!”
“Indeed,” said the beady eyed priest. Hugh did his best to remain silent and forgotten as the pair haggled. He hoped the Smiter would unlock him without binding his hands. A wild hope. His eye muscles had been unaffected by the spell and he was able to glance around; the temple was completely empty. A lone brazier smoked with incense on the altar at the far end of the sanctuary. The temple was lavishly decorated in the fashion of temples elsewhere in the empire. Hugh had never set foot in this temple, he somehow had never given any thought to what it looked like on the inside. The floor of the sanctuary was covered with luxurious carpeting and on the walls hung fine tapestries and paintings, while large golden statutes watched from alcoves. Clearly, sermons in this room were meant to remind the faithful of the ever-present greed of their god, he thought wryly. It seemed to Hugh that everywhere he looked the eyes in the paintings and on the statutes watched him, was a threat -daring him to act. With thoughts of defiance, Hugh vowed to act and hoped he could kill one of these men in the process.
The priest opened a pouch that had been hidden deep inside his robes and paid the Hother in gem currency. Consisting of small disks, or coins, made from rough emerald and ruby stones not fit for jewelry, gem currency had been used in Hybrand prior to occupation and was still in use in the Eastern Kingdoms. Nothing more was said between the two as the Hother strode toward the door. Before stepping out the surly man waggled a finger at Hugh and muttered something unintelligible before flinging open the door and leaving. Feeling his muscles suddenly relax as he was unlocked, Hugh shoved his hand into his pocket to reach for something that would help him end this situation. He was amazed at how much his joints hurt with the movement, even though he had only been under the spell for a few minutes. He pulled the wormwood rod from his pocket and held it to his throat as he rolled on the floor. But he hesitated before speaking the incantation.
Maybe I can escape , he thought . This is just a priest .
Fool, you know the routine! End it, now! he answered himself. With renewed determination he chose to do his duty. He forced the tip of the rod into his throat and tried to utter the incantation, but no sound came out. He almost cried with desperation, but his voice made no sound. He shoved the rod back in his pocket.
“Hmm, hmm,” mumbled the priest. “Why do you try to speak in my sanctuary? I wonder. No use. There is a silence spell at work here. Only I may speak, and those whom I choose to allow.” The skinny priest chuckled and grabbed the Cklathman with unusual strength, hoisting him to his feet. Beady black eyes in a flat face trying to read him over a hooked nosed made the man look something like an owl. “Sacrilege is not tolerated in here. Hmm.”
With one hand on his golden dragon pendant, and the other on Hugh’s arm, the skinny man led him to a staircase behind the altar. Hugh had already
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