As the rage took hold, Melovar began to squeeze. "If you'd let him go, I would have made your death slow. As it is, I'm merely disappointed." The templar made a choking sound. "Very disappointed." Melovar increased the pressure, and felt the windpipe under his thumb give under the pressure. A gurgle sounded from the templar's chest, and a faint crack could be heard, before the Primate removed his grip and let the templar's body fall to the floor.

"Fetch me a guard detachment," Melovar said to the priest. "I'm going to Salvation."

Father Pristin nodded dumbly.

"Quickly!" the Primate said, and the priest fled from the room.

~

THE dungeons at Salvation were more for drunks and petty thieves than for serious miscreants. The blood-streaked cells in Stonewater were much more suited to murderers, rapists, and subversives.

The last thing the lazing guards in white tabards were expecting was a visit from the Primate.

"Your Grace, I didn't know you were visiting. Today is… today is… one of the guards is getting married, and so he brought the wine in. It's not usual, Your Grace, not at all."

"Be still, and be quiet," Melovar said. Instantly the guard's mouth shut with a snap.

"The Primate is here to see a prisoner," one of the templars flanking the Primate spoke. "The old pilgrim who was brought in the day after the attacks. Is he well? Are we able to speak with him?"

The guard tugged at his collar. "Well, it's been a few weeks. We send in a bucket of water every now and then, but food's hard to come by, what with the war." He inadvertently looked at the Primate. "I imply no criticism, Your Grace." He cringed.

"Take me to him," Melovar said.

Doors clanged, keys jangled, and guards returned to life, tabards straightened and hair hurriedly combed.

Primate Melovar was led into darkness. It took some time for his eyes to adjust, but eventually he saw he was being taken down a long corridor, flanked on both sides with barred cells. The smell of stale urine was overpowering, and the slumped occupants of the cells were strangely still, as if to move or make a sound would sap what little energy they possessed.

The guard stopped outside a cell no different from the others. His hand shook as he fumbled with the keys, but finally he turned the correct key in the lock and the barred door opened inwards.

Melovar stepped forwards.

"Please, Your Grace," another of the templars flanking him said. "Let us check first." He held out a nightlamp. "Tish-tassine," the templar spoke. A soft white glow came from the device.

The Primate waited patiently until they had finished. With the powers of regeneration the elixir had given him, there was little in this world that could harm him, but he had lost the patience for argument.

Finally the templars withdrew and the Primate entered the cell.