He picked up his cup and drained it, set it down with a thap that made Kesh start. “I have come to the Hundred to make a home for myself in a place where I may know peace, and to raise children with my wife. That is all I hope for.”

“Where is your wife?” asked the Hieros. “I have heard many speak of her, but she has not come to the temple.”

“Nor will she.”

“Ooosh!” murmured Kesh.

The reeve coughed, while Master Calon gasped at the implied insult.

The Hieros pounced. “Why is that? Here today you are come to the temple.”

Captain Anji opened his mouth to speak, and then he closed it and said nothing.

Marshal Joss said, “Surely an outlander who worships another god is not expected to visit the temples of the Hundred.”

“What gods does your wife worship, Captain? Surely not the god of the empire, for that god does not look kindly upon women. Or so my sources tell me.”

His mouth twisted in annoyance. He picked up the cup, noted it was empty, and set it down again, but now his expression was neutral and his voice smooth. “The Lord of Lords and King of Kings rules each person as befits his nature, men according to what is proper to men and women according to what is proper to women. But you are right. My wife is not of the empire. She prays to the Merciful One, whose mercy is known all along the Golden Road and past the southern desert even into the lands beyond the Sky Pass and the towering heights of the Heavenly Mountains.”

“Ah,” said the Hieros. “The orange priests. There’s an old hut far up on the Kandaran Pass where an orange priest once lived with his begging bowl. It’s said he would give aid to travelers without regard to their station or their gods. Then he died. Gone altogether beyond, as they say in their prayers. Such a strange phrase, ‘gone altogether beyond.’ What does it even mean?” She was still holding her cup. She handed it to an attendant, her wristlet bells chiming softly with the movement. “So, Captain, it is true that a shadow has grown in the north, a shadow we cannot name. By your efforts and those of the reeves of Clan Hall, many of us were saved. Yet this war is not over.”

“It is assuredly not over.”

He had a whip, which he’d been allowed to keep on the temple grounds. He played with it now, pulling its length through a hand as he considered what he meant to say. At length, he turned an inquiring gaze on Master Calon.

Briskly, Calon said, “I am here as representative of Olossi’s ruling council. This man has accepted as a temporary measure the responsibility to oversee the defense of the city and the surrounding region of Olo’osson. We ask for your cooperation and the cooperation of all the local temples in our efforts to live in peace in our own homes.”