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the gorthling," Athlone said. He cupped his hands around Gabria's face, and his brown eyes bored into hers. "Don't ever leave me like that again."

The intensity of his quiet words meant more to her than anything he could have said in anger or any statement of his concern for her safety. Warmed to the center of her being, Gabria raised her hand palm up and said, "I promise."

His fingers interlaced with hers, and the vow was made. They stood in the shade of the tree near the council tent, and Gabria told the two men what had happened from the moment she arrived. They could hear the noise stil going on in the camps; the voices of some of the chiefs rose above the cacophony as they tried to assess the damage and calm their people. The council grove bustled with activity, but Gabria, Athlone, and Sayyed were left strictly alone.

Suddenly they heard a voice close by. "I demand to see Lord Athlone. My right as a Khulinin cannot be denied."

The chieftain groaned when he saw Thalar, the clan priest. Lord Sha Umar was trying to distract the priest, but Thalar grew louder and more insistent by the moment.

"I will not leave," Thalar shouted, "until I speak with my chieftain!" Athlone nodded to Sha Umar, and the Jehanan stood aside. The priest came striding over. "What is it, Thalar?" the chieftain asked, the irritation clear in his voice.

The priest ignored his tone and planted himself before his chief. "Lord Athlone! You have finally come. I'll have you know that the gods-cursed heretic, Branth, has invaded the holy island, destroyed the sanctity of the gods' temple, and slaughtered people of our clans. I demand that you remove him from the sacred ring before the gods curse us for allowing this sacrilege to occur."

Lord Athlone tried to hold his temper. Although the priests and priestesses of a clan did not have as much authority as the chieftain, even the chiefs did not deliberately insult or antagonize a representative of the gods. Thalar, however, made self-control difficult.

"We're trying to---" Athlone began, but Thalar turned away before he could complete the sentence.

The priest faced Gabria, and his color turned as red as a beet. "As for her," he shouted, pointing a trembling finger at the woman, "that evil-tainted sorceress has destroyed this gathering! The moment she appeared, all the fury of Sorh broke loose."

Gabria tried to stifle a smile. Thalar did not know the truth of the gorthling's identity, so he had little idea how close he was to the truth.

Unfortunately the priest noticed her half-hidden expression and misread it for ridicule. "See how she laughs? Does she care that six people lie dead, that many more are injured, that nine are hostage, including a chief and your own wer-tain? Does she care for the sacrilege that is being done to our holy temple? Lord Athlone, that woman is a menace, and I demand that you banish her from this camp before she destroys us all."

"No,” Athlone replied simply.

Thalar rose to his ful height and bel owed, "Then kil her! Root out her evil!" His voice thundered across the grove. Anyone nearby who was not already listening to the harangue turned to watch. "Put an end to this vile stain of magic or by Surgart, I swear I will bring down the wrath of the gods upon this clan. I will---"

He went no further. Lord Athlone had had enough. The chief raised his hand, spoke a single word, and the priest's voice caught in his throat. Thalar's face turned from red to a sickly white, and his eyes bulged as he attempted to speak. Sha Umar and Sayyed grinned; the other chiefs looked stunned.

"No,” said Athlone calmly. "As you can see, the stain of magic is spreading." Thalar gasped and gagged with a mighty effort to say something, but the words would not come.

"You will listen now,” Athlone ordered, a bite of steel in his tone. "I am a magic-wielder, too. I intend to help Lady Gabria as best I can to remove that gorthling."

Thalar abruptly stilled, and his body stiffened.

The chieftain saw his reaction and pushed the point home. "That's right. That creature is not Branth, but a beast of Sorh, and Lady Gabria was trying to save the clans from its evil. Do you understand?" Thalar nodded, his eyes narrowed.

"Good. If you wish to remain with the Khulinin, I suggest you think about your position on sorcery.

There are two sides to every argument." Athlone spoke a second command, and the priest put his hand to his throat. He cleared it a few times to make certain that he could speak again.

"So," Thalar said, his tone low and cold, "you, too, have succumbed to the heresy. Are you here to fight the gorthling or help it?" He glared ferociously at Athlone and stalked away from the group.

The men standing nearby stared at Athlone in amazement. "That was very interesting," Sha Umar said.

Gabria touched Athlone's arm. "You have been practicing,” she said reproachfully.

"A little,” he admitted. "Enough to get a feel for the way magic works."

She turned to Sayyed. "I suppose you have, too?"

He grinned. "Of course."

"How? You two don't know enough to teach yourselves."

Athlone replied, "By listening and watching you."

"You're lucky you did not destroy yourselves with an uncontrol ed spel ,” she said.

Sayyed lifted his hands and shrugged. "You can’t show us a feast and expect us to be happy with crumbs."

Gabria was about to reply when a shadow passed over the council grove. Nervously she glanced up, but it was only a cloud passing overhead, formed by the growing afternoon heat.

The sorceress was still gazing at the sky when an agonized scream tore through the camps.

Everyone within hearing froze in their tracks. As the scream died away, Gabria, Athlone, and the others ran to the riverbank and stared at the island where the gorthling was standing. He had dissolved

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