His guide stopped at the second floor, pointing down the hallway. "You'll find all the offices of the Mathewites down that way. The Archprior is at the end, and his waiting room is just behind that sentry."

"Thank you," said Cyric, "you've been most helpful."

He waited until the Augustine descended the stairs, taking a moment to think about his coming meeting. He must take care, he reminded himself, for the Archprior was an influential man.

Steeling himself, he walked down the corridor, his sandals slapping on the marble floor. He approached the guard, a Temple Knight of Saint Mathew in full regalia.

"I'm Brother Cyric, here to see the Archprior," he stated. "Is he in?"

"He is," replied the sentinel, who then turned to open the door. "If you'll wait in here, we'll send someone to fetch you when His Grace is ready."

Cyric stepped inside an austere room, with a row of wooden benches along the wall. At one end hung a painting depicting Saint Mathew caring for the sick. As he moved towards it, he decided it was recent, for the dress and armour were far too modern for the time in which the founder of his order lived, but it mattered little for the point of the piece was readily understood.

He sat on the bench, trying to frame his questions in his mind. Athgar had mentioned a Temple Knight with a scar, and it now appeared the very same man was in charge of the fortress itself. How did one casually mention that such a powerful man was evil?

The guard opened the door, "He's ready to see you, Brother."

Cyric rose, following the Temple Knight to the end of the hallway. There, the door opened, and he was ushered inside to stand before a large oaken desk, behind which sat a grey-haired man.

"Archprior Legault," said Cyric, bowing deeply.

"Brother Cyric," the old man replied, "I must admit to some surprise at your request for a meeting. It is my belief you've only just arrived in Corassus."

"It is true, Your Grace," the Temple Knight said, "I arrived less than a week ago."

"I hope all is well at the mission?" asked the Archprior.

"It is, Your Grace, but I fear I have heard tell of something that I thought wise to bring to your attention."

"You have me intrigued," the man said, leaning forward. "Tell me, what is it that vexes you so?"

"I believe that someone in the Church is carrying on illegal activities."

"A very broad statement. Can you be more specific?"

"I have it on good authority that certain individuals have been engaging in the trade of slaves."

"I might remind you, Brother Cyric, that slavery is not illegal in Corassus."

"That might be true," said Cyric, "but it is against Church doctrine."

"Do you propose to lecture me on the rules of the Church?" the Archprior asked.