When Akkra was still a long distance from Sind, he knew that something exceptional was happening in the pink-hued city. Even as distant as he was, he could see the glow of thousands of oil lamps dotting the walls of the city. As he approached, the extent of the festivities became even more apparent. Every level surface in the city seemed to contain the small mustard oil lamps, their twisted cotton wicks burning with a warm yellow flame.

The streets revealed more of the festivities. Revelers danced in the streets, sharing wine, sugared wheat cakes, and kisses as the entire city celebrated. Akkra tried to recall what holidays were celebrated in Lodar, but he could think of none that occurred at this time of year.

Despite the apparent openness of the city, Akkra feared that the gates would still be guarded. This was the city of Att, and knew that Att's priests would not be as lax as the warriors of the Inner Army proved to be up north.

The dilemma of how to enter the city was solved for him. Akkra had hidden the horses in a small copse an hour's distance from Sind. Proceeding on foot along the main road, he was hailed from behind. He turned to observe a fat priest riding up on an old mare. He kept urging the animal to go faster, but the horse seemed capable of only one speed -- slow.

"It is late to be outside the gates, traveller," said the priest. "Are you coming to celebrate the marriage of Att?"

Akkra nodded in agreement, though he had no idea what the priest was referring to. However, it appeared to be wiser not to bring that fact to the priest's attention.

"I myself will be witness to the ceremony," boasted the priest, his rotund face split with a broad smile. "That is, if I am not too late! If you want a ride, hop on. You may still enjoy the festivities, and I will see the marriage of the century! Imagine, my friend, the power of Att and the authority of the Imperial throne combined in one person! This is truly the dawn of a new age in human history!"

Akkra leaped on the back of the horse, then grabbed onto the priest's robes for support. The priest dug his heels into the horse's flanks, and the old mare started slowly forward.

Akkra was disturbed by the priest's words. He now knew why the priests had brought Nest-kor down here. He could also understand why the rebellion had taken place. Part of the mythology of the cult of Att claimed that the god would one day rule again over all the kingdoms of earth. Att would assume human form, take a bride, and produce the true living god who would combine spiritual and temperal power into one. The God-King would then create the perfect society on earth, as the power of Att drove out all false gods.

He had long dismissed these prophecies and stories as so much rubbish. But it appeared that some people took those predictions much more seriously. He only hoped that he wouldn't arrive too late to ensure that the foredestined events did not take place.

Akkra and the priest approached a low rise that cut off their view of the city. It was at this spot that Akkra wrestled the priest off the horse and onto the ground. Akkra and the priest rolled in the dust several times before Akkra was able to hit the priest squarely in the jaw, knocking him unconscious. The Mazidaran quickly disrobed the priest, leaving him bound and gagged as naked as the day he was born. Akkra pulled the man's unconscious body away from the rode and hid it with several dried bushes.

Donning the priest's garments, Akkra mounted the horse. He had as little success as the priest had had in urging the animal into a faster gait. Akkra probably could have made faster progress on foot, but the horse lent credibility to his disguise, so Akkra persisted in trying to hurry the horse on.

The guards at the gate started to challenge Akkra, but the crimson robes proved sufficient to win automatic entrance into the city. Akkra rode slowly through the gate, waiting for his imposturing to be discovered. Once he was sufficient distance from the gate, he stopped several revelers and asked them if the marriage ceremony had taken place yet. They informed him that the ceremony was slated for midnight. Akkra still had several hours to find Nest-kor.

Traveling by horse in the city soon proved to be impractical. The streets were filled with thousands upon thousands of celebrants, all engaged in every conceivable form of debauched pleasure. Women raced down the streets, ripping their clothes from their bodies, pursued by those men where were still sober enough to desire their favors. There were frequentl brawls, as tempers flared and fists flew. And everywhere, Akkra could see couples embracing one another, mocking the nuptial night activities.

Akkra stared around him in surpise. He had seen many strange sights in his travels through Tandaria, but none rivaled this. Even children were partaking in the obscene parady of the wedding night. And foremost in the depraved activities were the priests of Att. Akkra rarely saw a priest who did not have several women fawning over him, anxious to outdo her sisters in winning the priest's favor.

Even Akkra, dressed as he was in priest's garb, was not immune to the attentions of the wild Sindi women. Many times, as he pushed his way through the crowds, he had to dislogde the hands and arms of women who clung to him, trying to get him to stop. But Akkra knew that time for Nest-kor was running out. He had to find her as quickly as possible!

Finding the Temple of Att was not difficult. Gaining entrace was considerably more of a challenge. The first obstacle simply was the crowds that jammed the plaza in front of the temple. Akkra persisted in pushing and shoving, rudely forcing his way past one body at a time. It seemed to Akkra that he took half the night just to move a hundred paces. But finally he was close to the gate. There he encountered the second obstacle, a cordon of priests who kept the crowd away from the temple door.

"I must get inside," he shouted to one of guardian priests as he tried to push his way past.

"Not unless you have a pass," the guard shouted back. The guards closed ranks and effectively blocked Akkra out.

Akkra hesitated, then began to search the pockets of the robe. The priest claimed that he was to see the ceremony. Perhaps he did have such a pass. Akkra's groping fingers felt a folded piece of paper. Triumphantly, he pulled it out and waved it before the priest. He looked at it and waved Akkra past the cordon.

Once past the gates, Akkra found himself in a large chamber, dominated at one end by an enormous statue of Att. The crimson god glowered down at anyone entering the chamber, but Akkra refused to be intimidated.

There were a knot of people milling about the foot of the statue, an odd mixture of noblemen and priests. Without hesitation, Akkra walked boldly towards the group.

As he approached the group, he began to cry out, "Urgent message for Rati Bajah! Urgent message for Rati Bajah!"

Several of the nobles eyed him quizzically, then went back to their own private conversations. One of the priests walked over to Akkra.

"Give me the message, brother priest," he commanded. "I will deliver it to Rati Bajah."

Akkra shook his head in negation. "I carry an urgent message from Nar Sidthar in Lodar for the ears of Rati Bajah only."

"His Holiness is preparing for the marriage ceremony," replied the priest. "He simply cannot be disturbed. If you have a message, tell me what it is, and I will pass it along."

"No, I cannot do that," argued Akkra. "I was ordered very specifically to give the message only to the High Priest. Now take me to him or tell me where I might find him, since every moment is critical."

The priest hesitated, trying to weigh the importance of the message against the wrath Rati Bajah would exhibit at being disturbed. The practice ceremony had not gone well, and he knew the High Priest well enough to know that anyone disturbing him or bringing bad news might face severe consequences. He smiled.

"Of course, brother priest, you must deliver your message in person. Let me show you where you can find Rati Bajah. I am sure he will be pleased to hear whatever news you have."

The priest led Akkra behind the statue, pointing out the hidden entrance to the lower levels, and giving Akkra general directions to the interrogation room where Rati Bajah could be found. Akkra hurried down the stone steps, leaving his guide in the main hall gloating over the trick he had played on the upstart messenger.

Akkra soon discovered that the directions were not all that explicit. Very quickly, he became confused by the profusion of corridors, chambers, and intersections that honeycombed the lower levels. He finally realized that he would have to seek additional guidance.

The question of where to seek help was answered for him. He heard a commotion ahead of him. He turned the corner and saw before him an open door. Inside the small chamber, Akkra saw one priest raising a switch above his head, then bringing it down on the shoulders of another priest who vainly tried to cover his head.

Akkra raced through the door and grabbed the arm of the attacker. A sharp blow from the heel of his hand to the side of the priest's temple rendered him unconcscious. Akkra grapped the man's body and gently eased it to the floor. He turned to face the cowering priest. Akkra stared into the man's eyes. The Power of the Will worked easily on this priest, whose mind lay before Akkra like an open book. Though the man wore priest's garb, he was not a member of the order of Att, but a scholar conscripted to work for the temple priests. Akkra was certain the man's loyalties did not lie with Att.

"Which way to the interrogation chamber, priest?" he demanded.

The priest stared at Akkra in surprise. "Why would you want to go there?" he asked.

"They are going to torture the Princess Nest-kor," answered Akkra impatiently. "They intend to force her to marry Rati Bajah, and she refuses."

The priest stared at Akkra in puzzlement. Then his expression turned to one of shock. "You mean that the Princess does not really want to be the bride of Att? She is being forced?"

"Yes, and there is no time to lose! Which way to the chamber?"

The priest gave Akkra directions to the Interrogation Chamber. Once more Akkra used the Power of the Will to verify the man's information. Satisfied that it was correct, he turned to leave. Then he spied the unconscious priest on the floor. He swung around and confronted the scholar.

"You had better leave this temple, friend," he advised. "I suspect the priests will not be too happy with you."

The scholar shook his head. "I cannot leave. Look around you, look at this treasure here!"

Akkra stared around the room at the treasure the priest spoke of. Copies of ancient books lay carefully spread out over the surfaces of tables and shelves. There must have been thirty or forty volumes at least. It was the largest collection of books Akkra had ever seen. Indeed it was a treasure, but one which would be valued in very few places. One of those places, however, was Mazidar. "Then stay, as you will. But I think you will find the work we are doing in Mazidar very much to your liking. We have several scholars working on interpreting the ancient texts also. You might like to share your efforts with them."

The man reluctantly shook his head. "The temple priests would not permit me to take any of these away. They contain references to the origins of Att, and I am supposed to provide a detailed history of the birth of Att and his sojourn on earth."

Akkra shrugged in exasperation. "Do as you will. But I have to find the Princess and get her out of here."

The priest's eyes brightened. "They will never allow you out of the temple, stranger. You would have to fight your way past hundreds of priests. But there is another way, a way that few of the priests know about!"

"What is it?" demanded Akkra.

"I cannot tell you unless you agree to take me and my books with you!"

Akkra had to consider the alternatives only the barest fraction of a second. "Agreed," he said, "assuming I am successful in finding and rescuing Nest-kor. If we are to travel together, we should do so as friends. I am Dak Akkra." The Prince held out his hand.

"I am called Gareth Dro. Now you go and find the Princess. I will collect my books and meet you near the Interrogation Chamber." Without waiting for a response, Gareth Dro began to gather up as many of the books as he could.

Akkra raced out of the room and down the stone corridors, looking for the stairway to the lowest levels of the Temple's dungeons.

Akkra had less problems finding the dungeon than he expected. It was the area guarded by three burly warriors who looked out of place in priests' garb. The warriors sensed something was wrong as soon as Akkra approached the closed dungeon door, and without waiting for the Mazidaran to identify himself, they were already pulling out their swords and moving around to trap him.

Akkra responded in kind. As one started to cry out for reinforcements, Akkra's knife flew through the air, hitting the man on the side of the head and knocking him unconscious. Simultaneously engaged one of the guards in a flurry of sword thrusts, forcing the Lodaran to retreat hurriedly before he was cut to ribbons. Meanwhile, the third guard, more cautious than the first two, tried to circle around the Prince. The confines of the corridor made this almost impossible, but Akkra feigned pursuit of the retreating warrior. This permitted the third guard to get behind the Prince. As Akkra expected, the guard tried to charge Akkra from behind, but the Prince was already waiting for the attack. Dropping to the ground, he rolled backwards, under the feet of the surprised warrior who tripped over the Prince's rolling body. The warrior stunbled forward, right into the arms and sword of his companion. Too late to stop himself, the falling warrior twisted his body to the side, knocking his companion down also.

As soon as the one warrior had tripped over him, Akkra jumped to his feet in pursuit of the man. As both warriors collided, Akkra was there thrusting and slashing with his sword. The first warrior who retreated died of a deep thrust through the chest. His companion faired better, since Akkra merely pummeled him on the head, rendering him as unconscious as the warrior hit with the knife.

Akkra hurried over to the dungeon door. Pushing it violently opened, he took in the scene in a glance. A priest, hearing the commotion outside the torture chamber, was hurrying towards the door. Against the far wall was the Princess, her hands tied above her head. Standing close to her was the High Priest, a snarl of hatred crossing his face as he saw Akkra standing in the door.

The Mazidaran jumped into the room, almost unconcernedly plunging his sword into the soft belly of the charging priest. Rati Bajah raised the whip up in the air, bringing it back to snap at the Prince. At the same time, Akkra hefted his sword like a spear and let it fly towards the High Priest. Rati Bajah stared in shocked surprise as the sword dug deep into his chest. The Priest's blood spurted across the room like a fountain. Rati Bajah's eyes seemed to fix themselves on Akkra, as though the priest wanted to memorize every feature of the Prince's face. Then, dropping the whip, the priest fell forward, pushing the sword further through his chest until its point aimed bloodily at the ceiling.

Akkra hurried over to the Princess. He loosened the thongs that bound her, catching her as she collapsed in his arms. She stared at him, uncomprehending who he was or what was going on around her. Then a flash of recognition lit up her eyes momentarily. "Oh, Akkra, I knew you would come!" she whispered. Then her body became limp as her mind released her from the trauma of the moment.

Akkra lifted her up, covering her body as well as he could. Putting her upper body over his shoulder, he hurried towards the dungeon door. Outside the dungeon, he grabbed one of the guard's swords and retrieved his knife.

The corridor was still empty, except for the two unconscious guards and the dead guard. Akkra was surprised that the noise and commotion had not attracted more attention. He supposed the priests were used to strange sounds emanating from this part of the temple. Perhaps they even avoided the area, lest they become involved in the nefarious goings-on.

He looked around for the scholar-priest, but saw no sign of him. What if Gareth Dro, hoping to get back in favor with the priests' ruling hierarchy, had decided to betray Akkra? There was no way Akkra would be able to defend himself as long as he was burdened down with the Princess. Yet he certainly could not think of leaving her so that he could escape. He would have to fight, trusting to his skill and the favor of the gods to aid him. The thought of losing never occurred to him, and if it did, it was such a fleeting thought that he took no notice of it.

He heard a sound in the far end of the corridor. Warily he waited for whomever it was to make an appearance. There was a clatter, as of an object being dropped and an unpriestly oath in response. Then the scholar-priest, laden down with a stack of books and a heavy sack that he dragged behind him, strained around the corner.

"By all the gods of Tandaria, man, what is all that?" demanded Akkra in a hushed voice.

Gareth Dro stuck out his jaw defiantly. "It goes with us, or I don't show you the way out of here," he insisted. "This is my life's work. Without it, I have no reason to go on."

"Doesn't your life mean anything? If they catch us, they will certainly kill us."

The priest shook his head. "I don't care. These are more important than all of us. I can't let them be destroyed or lost."

Akkra shrugged. "The perseverence of fools," he muttered, but inwardly his admiration for Gareth Dro increased. If only there were more people dedicated to the pursuit of truth and knowledge. But as he thought that, he realized that unless they hurried, there would be several fewer people pursuing truth and knowledge in the world.

"Lead on," he urged. He took the sack from the priest, who showed only a slight hesitation in giving it up. Then realizing that Akkra would not abandon it, he let go.

Gareth Dro hurried further into the bowels of the building, leading Akkra down corridors that were roughly hewn out of the bedrock. In many areas, the corridors opened onto natural fissures and passageways, the work of centuries of running water flowing to an underground river.

They had passed many such side passages, when Gareth Dro stopped, checked for some marking known only to him, then gestured down one of the natural channels. "We must go this way," he announced.

Akkra eyed the channel with distaste. Unlike the manmade passageways, which were comparatively easy to travel in, the natural fissure was more treacherous in its footing. Burdened as he was with Nest-kor and the bag of books, he questioned how much progress he would be able to make. He voiced his concerns to Gareth Dro.

"There is no other route, my friend. Perhaps we can awaken the lady?"

Akkra nodded, putting Nest-kor down as gently as he could. Lightly rubbing her face, he called out her name. Slowly, hesitantly, she regained consciousness. When she opened her eyes, she smiled weakly, and muttered, "Oh, it is you!" Then her eyes closed again, as she tried to retreat into a more secure world.

Akkra shook her more violently. "Wake up, Your Highness, we must get out of here. You have to walk, Nest-kor. Wake up!"

Once again, the Princess opened her eyes, but this time her expression was more of a scowl. She started to berate Akkra for bothering her when the tunnel shook violently. A low rumbling sound, like the very earth straining against itself, reverberated through the passageway.

The priest turned ashen. "By the wrath of Att, he's done it!" he whispered.

"Who's done it?" demanded Akkra. "Done what?"

"Rati Bajah! He has released the lever that destroys the temple!"

Akkra shook his head. "Someone may have done it, but it certainly wasn't Rati Bajah. He went to Att with a sword through his heart."

"No," insisted Gareth Dro, "the High Priest lives! Only he and I knew of the mechanism that would dam up the underground river. Only he could have activated it, I tell you."

"Well, regardless of who did it, what does it matter?"

Gareth Dro stared at Akkra, his face frozen with terror. "Don't you realize what will happen? The river will back up. We will be trapped here, drowned like rats in a sewer! We don't have time to get out!"

Akkra grabbed hold of Gareth Dro and tried to steady him. "How long before this tunnel fills up?" he demanded.

Gareth Dro stared at the Mazidaran in wide-eyed terror. "I-- I don't know! It's got to be several minutes. Even with the entire flow of the underground river, the temple has several main chambers beneath the surface that must be filled first. Do you think we have a chance?"

"I cannot say," the Prince replied. "All I know is that we will surely die if we stay here waiting for the water to seek us out."

Akkra turned to help Nest-kor to her feet. The Princess was still dazed and confused, and she accepted Akkra's assistance dispassionately. "Lead on, scholar," commanded Akkra.

With a sense of urgency exacerbated by the seemingly slow pace imposed on them by the confines of the tunnel, Akkra urged the others through the twisting, jagged passageways. At first they proceeded only downwards, but after what seemed an endless amount of time, Akkra perceived that the tunnel was bearing upwards. The others must have noticed it also, for their progress became swifter. The hope of escape spurred them all to greater exertion.

All around them were the ominous, recurring sounds of the catastrophe caused by the damming of the river. Deep rumbles reverberated through the tunnel walls as distant parts of the temple collapsed into the weakened maze of the underground complex.

They were still climbing upward when the first trickle of water caught up with them. At first all they heard was a gurgling sound that kept dogging their progress. Then Akkra, bringing up the rear, felt the water splash about his ankles. Although expecting the water at any moment, he was startled when the water actually touched him. It was cold, like the hand of death cluthing at its prey.

"Hurry," he urged. "The water is coming!" The light of the two torches the group had was insufficient to permit him to see very far in either direction, but it was enough to tell him that the tunnel was not climbing as fast as the water was rising.

"It cannot be much further," panted Gareth Dro. "We must find the corkscrew passage to the surface. Watch for it, since it may be hidden."

"I don't know if I can go on," moaned Nest-kor. But then the water reached her feet. She quickened her pace, pushing frantically against Gareth Dro ahead of her to move faster.

The water was now up to their knees, slowing their progress considerably. The tunnel began to twist, and for a short time began to climb. They left the water behind, though the priest told them that it was only a momentary respite. Sure enough, the tunnel began to level out once more, and a short time later, the water had again caught up with them.

Now all three of them were breathing heavily. Akkra briefly feared they would never escape from this interminable tunnel. Rather than voice his concerns, however, he encouraged Nest-kor and Gareth Dro to maintain their efforts. The water, meanwhile, continued to rise higher and higher.

The water was waist level. Nest-kor lost her balance and plunged into the water. Akkra quickly pulled her to her feet and steadied her while she coughed out the water she had swallowed. He motioned for her to continue, but she refused to go on. Suddenly, Gareth Dro cried out in joy.

"Here's the corkscrew!" he yelled back to Akkra. "It will take us up to the surface. But take care! It is a difficult passage."

Akkra saw the priest disappear in the low ceiling of the tunnel. He pulled Nest-kor over to where the priest disappeared. A series of footholds led upwards into a crevace in the roof of the cave. Ignoring her protests, Akkra forced Nest-kor to follow the priest up the narrow opening. The tunnel circled in tight spirals, ever upward, but it was not like a spiral staircase. While there were footholds and handholds, they were not always well-placed. Progress was achievable only by pushing and pulling each other up the steep passageway.

Nest-kor seemed to regain her composure. "At least we are safe from the water," she gasped.

Gareth Dro looked down at her as she held out a hand for him to grasp. "Unfortunately no, my lady. We are in greater danger here than in the tunnel. Once the corkscrew starts to fill with water, it will rise very rapidly. There is less volume to fill up."

"In that case, master scholar, I suggest we continue to climb and do our socializing when we are safely out of this cave." Akkra's cheery laughter, incongruous to the desperate circumstances of their situation, took the sting out of his words.

Akkra had no idea how high they had climbed before he heard, then felt, the water rising in the tunnel.

"The water's rising," he called out. "How much further do we have to go?"

"I don't know," replied the priest. "The surface can't be much further."

The rising water impelled them to greater exertions. Even so, the water climbed rapidly up Akkra's legs. His footing became more difficult, and he slipped. He caught himself before he fell back into the water, but he almost dropped Gareth Dro's precious books. He briefly considered leaving the books behind, but he had promised the priest, and as long as he was able, he would not break that trust.

Suddenly Akkra heard a shout above him. "We're out!" cried Gareth Dro. "It's the end of the tunnel!"

With renewed enthusiasm, the three of them clambered up the last parts of the tunnel. The water, ever persistent, continued to pursue them. As they emerged from the tunnel, a torrent of water poured out of the opening, forming a gushing stream on the surface. Akkra pulled Nest-kor and the priest to higher ground away from the gurgling stream. He handed the precious bag of books to the priest, who hugged them like an endeared child. Exhausted, they lay on the ground trying to regain their breath. As they watched the water continue to pour out of the hole in the ground, they realized how close they had come to death.

After a time -- Akkra was unsure exactly how much time had passed -- the Prince stood up and began to reconnoiter. Almost immediately, he dropped to the ground, then crawled to the crest of the hillock they were on and peered cautiously over the edge. Gareth Dro asked what he saw, but Akkra silenced him with a gesture. After examining the scene for several moments, Akkra crawled back to his two companions.

"We are not as far from the city as I had hoped," he reported. "There is a large encampment of Lodaran warriors just on the other side of the hill. There must be over a thousand of them."

Nest-kor brightened up. "If they are Lodaran warriors, surely they are here to rescue me!"

Akkra shook his head hesitantly. "I doubt that, Your Highness. While it is true they are from the north, they appear to be Inner Army warriors. There are also a large number of priests with them. That in itself might not mean anything ominous, but the priests were caring for a large number of wounded or hurt priests."

The scholar priest raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps they were hurt in a recent battle."

"But only priests seemed to be hurt," protested Akkra. "The only battle priests alone have been involved in was with the river and the collapsing temple. My guess is that they have evacuated the survivors to this camp outside the city, though why they would do that is beyond me."

Gareth Dro laughed quietly. "It is not a surprise to me, friend. The people of Chag embrace the priests of Att only because it is prudent to do so. There is not much love between the citizens of Sind and Att. The priests are probably outside the city walls for their own protection."

"Well, if we want protection," said Akkra, "we must get away from here as quickly as possible. Come sunrise, those warriors are sure to discover us."

"But how are we to escape?" asked Nest-kor. "Surely you don't think we can get very far on foot?"

"No," said Akkra, shaking his head. "I don't intend to, Your Highness. But if we have no alternatives, we will. Priest, can you look over the edge and determine what side of the city we are on? Make sure you are not seen."

Gareth Dro crawled slowly up the side of the hill and peered over. A moment later he was sliding back towards them.

"We are on the northern side of the city," he reported. "And you are right about the priests being from the temple. I think I recognized some of them."

Akkra nodded thoughtfully. "I approached the city from the west. Assuming they have not been discovered, I left several horses tied up over there. With good fortune, we might be able to get those horses and make our escape. But we must do so before dawn."

As quietly as possible, the three of them edged away from the camp, keeping the hillock between them and the priests and warriors. All too soon the meager protection afforded by the hill came to an end. There was enough moonlight that a keen-eyed sentry could easily spot them walking across the level fields surrounding the city.

They tried to stay close to the taller foliage, but the current crop was small mustard plants. Akkra tried to follow existing irrigation ditches. He knew that if they trampled through the plants, their path would be visible to any skillful tracker.

Akkra cautioned Gareth Dro and Nest-kor to walk in a single file and away from the camp. That way they would be less conspicuous. Unfortunately, the irrigation ditches they followed did not always lead away from the encampment. On several occasions, they had to walk across the line of sight of any conscientious guard. When they had to do that, Akkra had them stay as close to the ground as their bundles would permit.

They had gone half of the distance Akkra estimated to the copse where he had hidden the horses when they heard a commotion coming from the city to their right. Far to the south, they could see Issar Gate open up. A stream of lighted torches emerged from the city. They heard another commotion to their rear, as the camp erupted into life. Warriors and priests alike jumped onto horses and began to race towards them.

"The gods preserve us, we've been discovered!" cried Gareth Dro. He jumped to his feet and began to race across the fields away from the city. Nest-kor glanced first at Akkra, then towards the priests and warriors emerging from the camp. Then she also started running after Gareth Dro.

"No," cried Akkra, "they are not after us!" But his words were lost on the two fleeing figures. Akkra reluctantly jumped out of the irrigation ditch and began to chase after the Princess and the priest. He had to stop them before they were discovered!

Despite her slower start, Nest-kor had gained on the priest, burdened with his bag of books. Even in his terror, he refused to let go of the bag. It took Akkra only a moment to overtake Nest-kor and Gareth Dro. Running along side priest, Akkra grabbed the scholar's arm and pulled him to the ground. Gareth Dro fell to the ground with a groan of pain. Nest-kor, unable to stop in time, fell on top of the priest.

"Gareth, lie down and be still!" ordered Akkra. His voice was hardly louder than a forced whisper, yet it commanded Gareth Dro's obedience. "They are not after us! Look!"

Both the priest and Nest-kor turned to face the direction Akkra was pointing. Now that they had moved a hundred paces further east, it was more apparent that the two groups were riding to meet each other, and not towards the three fugitives hidden in the field.

"What can it mean?" asked Nest-kor?