Chapter 1: Outcast

"And so the Gods of Kath stretched forth Their hands, drawing the ships of our revered ancestors to Them across the abyss between the worlds." The somewhat nasal voice of the young Priest, Shenfu, droned on hypnotically in the gloom of Kathool's temple, telling again the ages old story of how the Gods of Kath had tricked the Mad One.

Some driven by boredom, others lured by rumors of a special treat, nearly all of the people of HighVillage were there. Shantar squatted near the entrance with several other young men, the only one among them allowed to do up his hair in a warrior's braids. His thoughts were fixed on far more pleasant things than this tale of ancient treachery. The story was one he'd known since he was a small child, and he had better things to think about. Like Chenji, Shenfu's wife. She was also the reason why he wasn't seated with the other warriors. A few more moments to let the ceremony get well under way, and he would be out of the circular door...

"The Gods waited until Kathool was asleep in His house under the sea. Using the powers that were Theirs, They sent the souls of two men and two women to dance in His dreams. As They had planned, Kathool's mad fancy was caught by His new toys, and He slept on..."

Shenfu had done well in the months since he and Chenji had come to HighVillage. Between the time of planting and the beginning of harvest season, he had hired men to rebuild the nearly ruined temple. During the cold winter days, aided by a spate of earth tremors, Kathool's blood thirsty rites had caught the interest of many villagers who had nothing better to do with their time. The crowd's interest quickened as a dog was led before the altar, a plump, half grown pup donated by one of the faithful.

"To keep Kathool from waking, souls of animals as well as people..."

They watched avidly as the dog was chained to the low altar, falling silent to better hear its shrill yelps as the first ritual cuts were made in its tender hide. Shantar took this opportunity to slip out through the round door, circling around to the hut where he'd lived alone since his fourteenth year, the winter his parents had been caught by an avalanche.

Chenji was waiting for him, keeping well inside where no one could see. Older than her priest husband, she was strikingly handsome rather than merely pretty. He reached for her, eager for her embrace, but she pushed him away.

"Shantar, you must flee at once! Hurry, I've already started gathering up your things."

"Flee?" He stared down at her in blank astonishment. "But... but why, my Chenji?"

"Shenfu, of course. Someone told him about us. We both knew that this would happen, sooner or later. He's long suspected something, but had no idea who to blame. Now he knows for sure, and he is boiling with rage that it should be you, a mere youth. He expected it to be at least one of the sub chiefs of HighVillage. His vanity is wounded, and all that he can think about is to strike back. He would have beaten me, had he dared." She straightened her shoulders proudly. She might only be the wife of a low land priest, but she was still a woman of the High Hills.

"And so I am to flee from Shenfu?" Shantar's laugh was loud in the tiny hut. For all his youth, he was a full head taller than any of the other warriors in HighVillage. His sword, a wickedly curved blade heavier than most, was feared and respected, as was his skill with the bow. "He is only a fat village priest, keeper of a ramshackle temple and some clumsy idols of wood and clay. I spit on his God, and on the ceremonies that draw the ignorant and fearful to him. I will not run from such a one!"

"Don't be such an idiot!" She looked like she wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. "Won't you understand? As soon as the first part of the ceremony is over, and the sacrifice has been made, he will charge that you are a heretic who blasphemes against the Gods. He will declare your life forfeit, claiming you for Kathool's own. There are enough men who hold grudges against you, or who owe him favors, to support his claim. The rest of the villagers will keep silent while your body is tortured, your soul sent to serve Kathool at the bottom of the sea!"

"If I must go, then come away with me. I will lead you forth from these barren hills and lay the marvels of all Kath at your feet, from frozen Sian to mighty Talai of the tropics. I will show you the emerald islands of the WesternSea, gleaming under the three moons..."

"You will lose that thick head off your brawny shoulders if you don't go, and quickly," she interrupted, a trace of a smile tugging at her lips. "We've both had our fun, but now it's over. Shenfu would declare us both outcasts, and the life of a wandering fugitive is not for me. I can calm his rage, once you've gone and he has had time to forget. Now, hurry and go. He will suspect, of course, but he mustn't know for sure that I came to warn you."

Most of Shantar's belongings fit easily into his saddle bags. Fuming, he buckled on his sword, hung his short recurved bow and round shield from his saddle, donned his light iron cap over coiled braids, and was ready to go. Chenji stood all this while by the door to the little dome shaped hut, watching. She gasped as Shantar crushed her to his chest, returning his kisses as fervently as they were given.

"Now go! Go, before they come for you."

"I'll go, but I'll always remember Chenji, who came to warn me of danger."

Keeping a growing anger under stern control, he led his pony cautiously between neighboring huts, keeping as much space as he could between himself and Kathool's tall cylinder of a temple. He passed close to the barred entrance to the gronch caves, hurrying to avoid the musky reek of the giant lizards and the smoke from the slow fires protecting them from the springtime chill. He'd lost count of how many times his youthful pranks had earned him spells of tending the gronch fires, and shoveling lizard droppings. He could hope for no such merciful fate if they caught up with him, not this time.

At least the men of the High Hills wouldn't stand for the use of the low landers' slave drug, though even that might have been preferable to the fate that Shenfu planned for him. He shuddered at the thought of the probable, no, the certain alternative to his successful escape. He'd attended a few of the first ceremonies after Kathool's temple had been rebuilt. They had been enough to make him stay away, except for a few times lately when he'd looked in to make sure that Shenfu would be kept busy. He had seen small animals put through the lengthy, painful ritual that sent their souls to serve in Kathool's dreams. Far better to die a clean death by sword or arrow than that!

"Find him!" He winced at the cry raised by Shenfu, in the doorway of his temple. "Kathool's favor to the man who brings him to me. Alive, if you can, but bring him!"

Safely past the edge of the village, Shantar swung into the saddle and kicked his pony into a gallop. The trail out of HighVillage was narrow and steep, winding its way up the side of a barren ridge before beginning its long drop to the low lands. He looked back as a shrill yell of fury echoed across the thawing fields, then dug his heels into his pony's ribs. Behind him, a mob of villagers poured out from between the huts, led by green clad Shenfu. Another backward glance showed him the priest, a tiny splotch of green against dark rocks, beginning the ancient chant for the casting out of a heretic.