.I.

The Temple, City of Zion, The Temple Lands "Well, you were right, Rhobair," Zhaspahr Clyntahn said caustically. "I know I feel a whole lot better now that we've gotten the complete report. Don't you?"

The Grand Inquisitor's sarcasm was even more biting than usual ... not that it came as a surprise. In fact, if Rhobair Duchairn was surprised by anything it was that Clyntahn wasn't throwing a full-fledged tantrum.

Of course there's time for that still, he reminded himself. We're only just getting started. Langhorne knows where he's going to go before we get finished this afternoon!

"No, Zhaspahr," he said as calmly as he could. "It doesn't make me feel much better. It does confirm some things, though ... including the fact that Allayn's plan to misdirect the Charisians seems to have worked. I can't believe someone like Cayleb would have sent less than thirty of his ships to intercept a hundred and thirty of our own if he hadn't been caught completely on the wrong foot."

"Why not?" Clyntahn demanded bitterly. "Their 'less than thirty' seem to've kicked our hundred and thirty's ass pretty damn thoroughly." He glared at Maigwair. "They didn't need to send any more ships than they did. God! It's pathetic!"

"Zhaspahr," Duchairn said, "you can't blame men for losing a battle when they suddenly come up against a weapon that causes their own ships to blow up under them. Especially when they didn't have any idea it was coming! I don't know about you, but if I expected someone to be firing round shot at me and instead they were firing some kind of ammunition that exploded the minute it hit my ship, I'd find that fairly disconcerting. In fact, I'd find it downright terrifying!"

"The fucking cowards were supposed to be Temple Guardsmen!" Clyntahn snarled, his face darkening dangerously. He seemed even angrier than the failure of one of his plans usually made him feel. "They're God's own warriors, damn it, not little children seeing fireworks for the first time!"

Duchairn started to fire back a quick, angry response, but he caught himself in time. Pushing Clyntahn over the brink would do nothing but get someone killed. Still....

"Perhaps you're right about that," the Treasurer said instead of what he'd started to say. "At the same time, do you think it would really have made a lot of difference if Harpahr had tried to fight to the last ship?" Clyntahn looked at him incredulously, and Duchairn held up both hands. "All right, I'll give you that if they had, the Charisians wouldn't have gained all the ships that surrendered. I have to say, though, that reading Searose's report, I don't see how Harpahr could have kept his ships from striking their colors however hard he'd tried. I'm not condoning their cowardice, Zhaspahr. I'm simply saying that human nature being human nature, Harpahr couldn't have stopped it. Not when the Charisians' new weapons came as a total surprise."

"I am getting damned sick and tired of every fucking new Charisian weapon coming 'as a total surprise,'" Clyntahn grated.

"If it's any consolation, I think this one must've been pretty close to a surprise for the Charisians, too," Duchairn replied.

"What the hell are you talking about now?" Clyntahn demanded.

"I think it's pretty obvious they haven't had it for very long," Duchairn said. "If they had, we'd have already seen it in action. For that matter, they wouldn't have tried something as desperate as a point-blank engagement in the middle of the night. If they had the ability to stand off and fire these explosive shot or whatever they are, why should they have closed? They sailed right into the middle of our ships-so close they were fighting old-fashioned boarding actions, Zhaspahr. It's right here in Searose's report."

"So what?" Clyntahn waved a dismissive hand.

"Rhobair has a point," Allayn Maigwair said. The Grand Inquisitor rounded on him, but Maigwair stood his ground. "I've read the reports, too, Zhaspahr. Everything the Charisians have done from Armageddon Reef and Crag Reach on has been built around artillery, not boarding actions. Oh, there've been boardings in most of the engagements, but they were the exceptions. Either that or they were the 'tidying up,' taking prizes which had already been battered into effective surrender with the guns. And the main reasons that's been the case are that the Charisians are more experienced than almost anyone else they've fought and that they have less manpower than we do. However good they may be in boarding melees, the last thing they want to do is to come to us in the kind of fight that lets us trade casualties one-for-one with them, and they've built all their tactics around avoiding that kind of battle. But that's exactly what they were doing against Harpahr's fleet."

"Sure it was ... until they turned around and blew the shit out of him!" Clyntahn said impatiently.

"That's not what Allayn's trying to tell you, Zhaspahr." Somehow Duchairn managed to keep his frustration out of his tone. "What he's telling you is that an outnumbered Charisian fleet fought our kind of battle ... until it managed to get the bulk of Harpahr's fleet into artillery range. They didn't switch to this new weapon until then, and they have to have taken serious casualties before they did. That suggests that whatever it is they were using, they didn't have a lot of it. They decided they had to make every shot count, and the only way to do that was to come to us-take their licks on the way in and hope they could finish us off with one or two good, heavy punches once they got inside our reach."

Clyntahn glowered at him, but from the Grand Inquisitor's expression, there was at least a possibility his brain was beginning to work. It might even be beginning to work well enough to overcome his ire, although Duchairn wouldn't have cared to bet on the possibility.

"I think Rhobair's right, Zhaspahr," Maigwair said now. "There's no way we can know how much they actually had of whatever special ammunition they were using, but the indications are that they didn't have anywhere near as much of it as they would've liked. From Searose's report, it's obvious he doesn't know what percentage of their total fleet had it, but he says he personally saw at least four of their galleons which were still firing normal round shot even after our ships had started to explode. As a matter of fact, I was impressed by the fact that he was able to keep his wits about himself well enough to notice that."

"And that's one reason I think Allayn's misdirection with the sailing orders actually worked," Duchairn said, piling on while the piling was good. "If they only had a handful of ships which were able to use this weapon, for whatever reason, then they would certainly have concentrated as many as possible of their regular galleons to support that handful. They didn't. To me, that seems to indicate their spies did pick up Harpahr's original orders to sail west. They must have sent a major portion of their fleet east in response to that. It's the only explanation for why they didn't close in on Harpahr with everything they had."

"What about that blockade of theirs?" Clyntahn challenged in a marginally calmer tone. "According to Jahras and Kholman they must have had at least forty galleons off the Gulf of Jahras. Maybe that's where your missing ships were."

"It could've been, but I don't think it was," Maigwair said. "I've been going over their reports, too, and they never actually saw the majority of those 'war galleons' at all. What they saw were masts and sails on the horizon, and don't forget the way Haarahld used merchant galleons to convince Black Water that Cayleb's galleons were with his fleet in the Sea of Charis when they were actually off ambushing Malikai off Armageddon Reef. I think this may have been more of the same, and I don't really see how anyone can blame them for being fooled under the circumstances."

"Maybe," Clyntahn said grudgingly.

"It works with what we know of the timing," Duchairn said, nodding at Maigwair. "Their spy network's obviously as good as we thought it was. We fooled them with Allayn's original orders, and that drew their main fleet out of position. But then their spies realized we'd misled them and reported Harpahr's real sailing orders in time for them to realize what was happening. Only they still didn't have time to get recall orders to the ships they'd already sent off, so they put together a 'fleet' of merchant galleons to convince Jahras and Kholman they couldn't fight their way out to sea while they scraped up everything they had-including the handful of ships they could equip with their new weapon-and threw them directly into Harpahr's teeth. If their weapon hadn't worked, we would've had them, Zhaspahr. It's that simple, and that's how close we came to accomplishing exactly what you originally proposed to do."

For a moment, he was afraid that last sentence had been too blatant an appeal to Clyntahn's ego. But then he saw the Grand Inquisitor nodding slowly and more thoughtfully. Clyntahn didn't look one bit less angry, but at least he'd lost some of the dangerous, saw-toothed rage which had been riding him with spurs of fire.

"All right," he said, "but even if you're right, the fact remains that we've suffered yet another defeat at the hands of heretics and apostates. The way we seem to keep stumbling from one disaster to another is bound to have an impact on even the most faithful if it goes on long enough. In fact, my inquisitors' reports indicate that that process may already have begun."

"That's a serious concern," Zahmsyn Trynair said, entering the conversation for the first time. Duchairn tried not to glare at the Chancellor, but he supposed it was better Trynair should come late to the party than stay home entirely.

"That's a very serious concern," Trynair repeated now. "What do you mean the 'process' may already have begun, Zhaspahr?"

"We're not seeing a sudden upsurge in heresy, if that's what you're worried about," Clyntahn said. "Aside, of course," he darted a venomous look at Duchairn and Trynair, "from the increasing number of 'Reformists' surfacing in Siddarmark, that is. But what we are seeing is what I suppose it would be fairest to call demoralization. People are seeing that despite the fact that we hugely outnumber the heretics, they keep winning battle after battle. Despite our best efforts, the casualty and prisoner totals from this latest debacle are going to get out, you know, and when they do, people are going to compare them to how little we've had to show for our efforts to date. Don't think for a moment that it isn't going to encourage the weak-hearted to feel even more despondent. In fact, it's likely to start undermining support for the jihad in general. At the very least"-he paused for a moment, letting his eyes circle the table-"it's going to begin to undermine confidence in the jihad's direction."

Duchairn felt Trynair and Maigwair settle into sudden, frozen stillness. There was no mistaking Clyntahn's implication.

"I scarcely think," the Treasurer said into the silence, choosing his words with excruciating care, "that anyone within the vicarate is likely to challenge our direction of the jihad."

After all, he added silently, you've slaughtered anybody who might have the courage or the wit to breathe a word about how thoroughly we've bungled things, haven't you, Zhaspahr?

"I'm not talking about the vicarate." There was something smug-and ugly-about the Grand Inquisitor's assurance, Duchairn thought, but then Clyntahn continued. "I'm worried about people outside the vicarate. I'm worried about all the bastards in Siddarmark and Silkiah who're going their merry way violating the embargo every day. I'm worried about the upsurge in 'Reformist' propaganda that's turning up in Siddarmark ... and other realms, according to my inquisitors. Places like Dohlar and Desnair, for example-even the Temple Lands! And I'm worried about people who are going to lose heart because Mother Church seems unwilling to reach out her hand and smite the ungodly."

"We've been trying to smite the ungodly," Duchairn pointed out, trying to disguise the sinking sensation he felt. "The problem is that it hasn't been working out very well despite our best efforts."

"The problem," Clyntahn said, his tone and expression both unyielding, "is that we haven't reached out to the ungodly we can reach. The ungodly right here on the mainland."

"Like who, Zhaspahr?" Trynair asked.

"Like Stohnar and his bastard friends, for one," Clyntahn shot back. His lips twisted, but then he made them untwist with a visible act of will. "But that's all right, I understand why we can't touch them right now. The three of you have made that abundantly clear. I won't pretend it doesn't piss me off, and I won't pretend I don't think it's ultimately a mistake. But I'm willing to concede the point-for now, at least-where Siddarmark and Silkiah are concerned."

Duchairn's heart plunged as he realized where Clyntahn was headed. He couldn't even pretend it was a surprise, despite the sickness in his belly.

"I'm talking about those prisoners Thirsk took last year," Clyntahn went on flatly. "The ones he's somehow persistently managed not to hand over to the Inquisition or send to the Temple. They're heretics, Zahmsyn. They're rebels against God Himself, taken in the act of rebellion! My God, man-how much more evidence do you need? If Mother Church can't act against them, then who can she act against? Do you think there aren't thousands-millions-of people who aren't asking themselves that very question right this moment?"

"I understand what you're talking about, Zhaspahr," Maigwair said cautiously, "but Thirsk and Bishop Staiphan have a point, as well. If we deliver men who surrender to us to the Inquisition to suffer the Question and the Punishment of Schueler as they ought, then what happens to our men who try to surrender to them?"

"Mother Church and the Inquisition cannot allow themselves to be swayed from their clear duty by such concerns," Clyntahn said in that same flat, unyielding tone. "Should the heretics choose to mistreat our warriors, to abuse the true sons of God who fall into their power, then that blood will be on their hands, not ours. We can only do what The Book of Schueler and all the rest of the Writ call upon us to do and trust in God and the Archangels. No one ever told us that doing God's will would be easy, but that makes it no less our duty and responsibility to do it. In fact, we ought-"

He stopped, clapping his mouth shut, and Duchairn felt the despair of defeat. Maigwair wasn't going to support him, despite what he'd just said. Not when a part of him agreed with Clyntahn to begin with, and especially not when the Grand Inquisitor had just made his fury over what had happened in the Markovian Sea so abundantly clear. And Trynair wasn't going to argue with Clyntahn, either. Partly because he, too, agreed with the inquisitor, but even more because of what Clyntahn had just stopped short of saying.

He's offering a quid pro quo where Siddarmark and Silkiah are concerned, Duchairn thought bitterly. He's not putting it into so many words, but Zahmsyn understands him just fine, anyway. And without at least one of them to back me, I can't argue with him either. If I try, I'll lose, and all I'll accomplish will be to burn one more bridge with him.

It was true, every word of it, and the Treasurer knew it, just as he knew the demand for the Charisian prisoners to be shipped to Zion would be sent out that very afternoon. But somehow knowing he couldn't have stopped it even if he'd tried didn't make him feel one bit less guilty and dirty for not trying after all.

"May I ask how the meeting went, Your Grace?" Wyllym Rayno, Archbishop of Chiang-wu, inquired a bit cautiously.

He was almost certainly the only person in Zion who would have dared to ask that question at all, given the rumors circulating through the Temple about Greyghor Searose's written report. He was also, however, the adjutant of the Order of Schueler, which made him the Grand Inquisitor's second-in-command in both the order and the Office of Inquisition. The two of them had worked closely together for almost two decades, and if there'd been one person in the world whom Clyntahn had truly been prepared to trust, that person would have been Rayno.

"Actually," Clyntahn said with a smile which would have astonished any of his fellows among the Group of Four, given the tone of the meeting which had just ended, "it went well, Wyllym. Quite well."

"We'll be able to move against the heretic prisoners in Gorath, then, Your Grace?" Rayno's tone brightened, and Clyntahn nodded.

"Yes," he replied, then grimaced. "I had to go ahead and more or less promise-again-to keep our hands off Siddarmark and Silkiah." He shrugged. "We knew going in that that was going to happen. Of course, my esteemed colleagues don't have to know everything we're up to, now do they?"

"No, Your Grace," Rayno murmured.

He wondered how many of the rest of the Group of Four realized the extent to which Clyntahn used his well-earned reputation for bullheaded refusal to compromise and fiery temper to manipulate them. It had taken even Rayno years to discover that at least half that reputation was a weapon the Grand Inquisitor had crafted deliberately, with careful forethought. Its true effectiveness depended on the reality of the fury hiding so close beneath its wielder's surface, of course, but on his bare-knuckled climb to the Grand Inquisitorship, Zhaspahr Clyntahn had discovered that while intolerance and ambition might make him hated, it was his passionate temper which made him feared. He'd learned to use that temper, not simply to be used by it, to batter opponents into submission, and the technique had served him well. It was a brute force approach, but it was also only one of the many weapons in his arsenal, as one unfortunate victim after another had discovered.

"What can you tell me about this new weapon Searose is blathering about?" Clyntahn asked with one of the abrupt changes of subject for which he was famous.

"Our agents in Charis continue to ... fare poorly." Rayno didn't like admitting that, yet there was no use pretending otherwise. "Wave Thunder's organization obviously has Shan-wei's own luck, but I'm afraid there's no point pretending he isn't extremely competent, Your Grace, as well. Every effort to build an actual network, even among the Loyalists in Old Charis, has failed."

"That wasn't the question I asked," Clyntahn pointed out.

"I realize that, Your Grace," Rayno responded calmly. "It was more in the nature of a prefatory remark."

Clyntahn's lips twitched on the brink of a smile. He was well aware of the extent to which Rayno "managed" him, and he was perfectly content to go right on being managed ... within limits, and as long as Rayno produced results.

"What I was going to say," the archbishop continued, "is that our original hypothesis appears to be correct. According to one of the very few agents we have in place, the Charisians are casting what amounts to hollow round shot and filling the cavities with gunpowder. What he hasn't been able to confirm is how they're getting them to explode, although he's offered a couple of theories which sound to my admittedly untrained ear as if they make sense."

Neither of them chose to mention the fact that Clyntahn had somehow failed to keep Allayn Maigwair informed of those agents' reports.

"What are the chances of having him dig more deeply into the matter?"

"I would advise against that, Your Grace. The agent we're talking about is Harysyn."

Clyntahn's grunt was an acceptance of Rayno's advice.

"Harysyn" was the codename they'd assigned to one of their tiny handful of sources within the Kingdom of Old Charis. As Rayno had pointed out, every effort to establish a formal network in Old Charis-indeed, almost anywhere in the accursed Empire of Charis-had run into one stone wall after another. Sometimes it was almost enough to make Clyntahn truly believe in demonic interference on the other side. As a result of that unending sequence of failures, however, the sources which were available to them were more precious than jewels. That was why they'd been assigned codenames which Clyntahn insisted on using even in his conversations with Rayno. In fact, he'd made a point of never learning what the sources' actual names might be, on the theory that what he didn't know, he couldn't disclose even by accident.

While he hated to admit it, Maigwair and that gutless fool Duchairn did have a point about the apparent effectiveness of Charisian spies. He didn't believe any of them were managing to operate within the Temple itself, but they had to be operating-and operating effectively-throughout the Temple Lands. It was the only explanation for how so many clerics-or their families, at least-could have escaped the Inquisition when he broke the Wylsynns' group. Or how the Charisians could have discovered that Kornylys Harpahr's fleet was actually going east, instead of west, for that matter. And that being the case, he wasn't going to take a chance on anyone's learning the identities of those precious sources of information.

All their surviving sources had been strictly ordered to recruit no other agents. That reduced their "reach," since it meant each and every one of those agents could report only what he or she actually saw or heard. It also meant each of them required his or her individual conduit back to the Temple, which made the transmission of anything they learned even slower and more cumbersome than it would already have been across such vast distances. Unfortunately, as Rayno had just said, every agent who had attempted to recruit others, to build any sort of true network, had been pounced on within weeks. It had taken a while for the Inquisition to realize that was happening, but once it had become evident, the decision to change their operational patterns had virtually made itself. And onerous as the restrictions might be, anything which made the spies they had managed to put-or keep-in place less likely to attract Wave Thunder's attention was thoroughly worthwhile.

Harysyn was a special case even among that tiny handful of assets, however. He hadn't been placed in Charis at all; he'd been born there. A Temple Loyalist horrified by his kingdom's heresy, he'd found his own way to communicate with the Inquisition, and virtually all those communications flowed only in one direction-from him to the Temple. He'd established his own channels, including one which would let them communicate back to him in an excruciatingly slow and roundabout fashion, although he'd also cautioned them that it could be used only sparingly, if there was no other choice. He was prepared to provide all the information he could, he'd told them from the outset, but if they expected him to avoid the detection which had befallen so many other agents and Loyalists, they would have to settle for what he could tell them and for his maintaining control of their communications.

That had been more than enough to make Clyntahn and Rayno suspicious initially, since both of them were well aware of how much damage a double agent could do by feeding them false information. But Harysyn had been reporting for almost three years now without their detecting a single falsehood, and he'd been promoted by his superiors twice during that time, giving him better and better access. Besides that, he was crucial to one of Clyntahn's central strategies.

That was the main reason he'd been given the codename "Harysyn," after one of the greatest mortal heroes of the war against Shan-wei's disciples at the dawn of Creation.

"Did he have anything else for us in the same report?" the Grand Inquisitor asked. "Anything specific to what happened to Harpahr?"

"Not specific to that, no, Your Grace." Rayno shook his head. "There's no mention at all of that battle in his message. I judge it was probably composed before the battle was even fought-or before any report of it had reached Harysyn, at any rate. He does say Mahndrayn's been in discussions about ship design with Olyvyr, though. And he's heard rumors Seamount and Mahndrayn are working with Howsmyn on further improving these new projectiles-'shells,' they're calling them-as well as continuing to experiment with new cannon founding techniques. Whatever they're up to, though, they're keeping the information very confidential, and Harysyn's promotion means he's no longer in a position to see any of their internal correspondence."

Clyntahn grunted again, less happily this time. Harysyn's sketches of things like the new Charisian hollow-based bullets, flintlock mechanisms, and artillery cartridges had been of immense value. He'd managed to provide the formula for the Charisians' gunpowder (which not only caused less fouling but was rather more powerful than Mother Church's had been) and the new techniques for producing granular powder, as well. Of course, the Inquisition had been forced to take great care in how it made that information available to the Temple Guard and the secular lords, lest it betray the fact that it had an agent placed to obtain it in the first place. It had, however, given Clyntahn invaluable advance notice on the innovations he had to justify under the Proscriptions of Jwo-jeng.

"And that insufferable bastard Wylsynn?" he growled now as the thought of the Proscriptions drew his mind into a familiar groove.

"Harysyn has seen very little of him personally."

Rayno kept his tone as clinical as possible; Clyntahn's hatred for the Wylsynn family had become even more obsessive over the last year. Bad enough that Samyl and Hauwerd Wylsynn, the two men he'd hated most in all the world, had escaped the Question and the Punishment by dying before they could be taken into custody. Worse that Samyl's wife and children had escaped the Inquisition completely. Yet worse than any of that, except in a purely personal sense, of course, was Paityr Wylsynn's desertion to the heresy. He'd actually agreed to continue serving as Maikel Staynair's Intendant, and not content with that, he'd even assumed direction of the Charisians' Shan-wei-spawned "Patent Office." A member of Clyntahn's own order was actively abetting the flood of innovations that had allowed the renegade kingdom to escape the justly deserved destruction the Grand Inquisitor had decreed for it in the first place!

"He has managed to confirm, however, that Madam Wylsynn and her children have reached Tellesberg, Your Grace," Rayno added delicately, and Clyntahn's face turned dangerously dark.

For a moment, it looked as if the Grand Inquisitor might launch into one of his more furious tirades. But he stopped and controlled himself, instead.

"I suppose we'll just have to hope he's in his office at the wrong time," he said. Then he shook his head. "Actually, I hope he isn't. I don't want that son of Shan-wei slipping through our hands the way his father and his uncle did. He has far too much to atone for by simply dying on us."

"As you say, Your Grace," Rayno murmured with a slight bow.

"Very well." Clyntahn's nostrils flared as he inhaled, then he shook himself. "The Sword of Schueler?"

"That operation is slightly behind schedule, Your Grace. I'm afraid it's taking a bit longer-partly because the winter was so severe-to lay the groundwork properly. We're also encountering more delays than we'd anticipated in finding the ... properly receptive sons of Mother Church. We're making steady progress now, however. The organization is going well, and I hope to be able to have everything in place in the next month or two. In the meantime, our inquisitors have confirmed that Cahnyr, at least, is in Siddar City. They're not certain how he got there, and no one's figured out how he managed to get out of Glacierheart in the first place, but he's increasingly visible in Reformist circles."

"And our good friend Stohnar remains blissfully unaware of his presence, I suppose?" Clyntahn sneered.

"So it would appear, Your Grace." Rayno smiled thinly. "For such a successful ruler, the Lord Protector appears to be singularly ill-informed about events in his own realm. Or perhaps I should say he appears selectively ill-informed. Archbishop Praidwyn is still en route to Siddar, but Bishop Executor Baikyr reports that he's pointedly drawn Lord Protector Greyghor's attention to the growing boldness of Reformist heretics in the Republic. In return, the Lord Protector has assured the Bishop Executor that his guardsmen are doing all they can to assist the Inquisition in dealing with the regrettable situation."

His eyes met Clyntahn's, and they grimaced almost in unison.

"Unfortunately," Rayno continued, "all of his efforts to assist Bishop Executor Baikyr have failed. Despite his guard's very best efforts, even fairly notorious Reformists seem to slip away before they can be taken into custody. Indeed, it's almost as if they were being warned-by someone-that they're about to be arrested. And so far, despite the persistent reports of Cahnyr's presence in the capital, he continues to elude the authorities."

Clyntahn made a harsh sound deep in his throat. The Inquisition had always relied heavily on secular rulers to assist in the suppression of heresy. Not even Mother Church could produce sufficient manpower to police all of Safehold against such dangerous thoughts and movements, and the system had worked well over the centuries. Yet that neatly summed up the problem they faced now, the Grand Inquisitor thought grimly, because it was no longer working ... and no Grand Inquisitor, including him, had seen the current breakdown coming. He'd been caught as unawares by it as anyone, and though he was expanding the Order of Schueler as rapidly as he could, it took years to properly train an inquisitor. In the meantime, he continued to have no choice but to rely on the secular authorities, and too many of those authorities were clearly more interested in hampering the Inquisition than in aiding it.

"Perhaps Archbishop Praidwyn will be able to inspire the Lord Protector to be of somewhat greater assistance," he said, then smiled. "And if he can't, there's always the Sword of Schueler, isn't there?"

"Indeed, Your Grace," Rayno agreed with an answering smile.

"And Operation Rakurai?"

"The men have been selected," Rayno said in a much graver voice. "All of them have been carefully examined and vetted, Your Grace, and I have their dossiers for you to consider at your convenience. The arrangements to deliver them are almost complete, as well. Once you've made your final selections, we'll be able to move rapidly to put them in place."

"You're satisfied with them?"

"With all of them, Your Grace," Rayno replied firmly. "We haven't told any of them exactly what Rakurai will entail, of course. I've tried to provide you with at least twice the number of recruits you requested in order to give you the greatest possible latitude in making your final choices. In addition, of course, I'm sure we'll be able to find ... other uses for men with such deep faith and fervor. But as you've so rightly stressed from the beginning, security is of critical importance, for this mission especially. We can't afford to have anyone not directly involved in it privy to any of its details."

"But you're confident all of them will be willing to undertake the mission when the time comes?"

"I'm certain of it, Your Grace. These men are truly committed to the will of God and to the Archangels' service and Mother Church, and they know abomination when they see it." The archbishop shook his head. "They won't flinch in the face of Shan-wei herself, Your Grace, far less the prospect of any mortal foe."

"Good, Wyllym," Zhaspahr Clyntahn said softly. "Good."

.II.