[Novnarwen]

Just before nightfall, Tarkan had had the pleasure of receiving a messenger from the Priestess. The knocking on the door had giving the Priest a fright, especially when considering the rather insecure situation the Priest found himself in. At last however, he had managed to get himself to open the door. Despite the unrecognisable figure in the doorway, he knew that this man could mean nothing but good news. After all, if it had been bad, which meant that the King most likely would be involved, there would have been someone else standing at his door; his half-brother would have sent the horrific monsters that were guarding, and roaming the streets, frightening the citizens of Pasthia; the creatures that were thirsting for blood. In other words, the King would not have sent a mortal man. The feeling of relief had grasped him within the second of having seen this man’s face, and the realisation of Pelin’s success had given him hope.

"Tarkan?" The Priest had nodded eagerly, not quite sure what to expect. Pelin had succeeded, but what exactly that meant, he was still unsure of.

"I’m Raefin. I have a message from..." Hearing the word 'message,' the priest had gasped in horror. The thought of someone hearing Raefin utter these words made him shiver. “Come in, and be quiet!” he urged, waving his hand at him, almost pushing him through the door.

Raefin had staid for about thirty minutes. Attentively, Tarkan had listened to the messenger, while a rush of thoughts occupied his mind. The Priestess wanted to come here? Impossible, he thought at once. The orcs came regularly by his apartment, “checking that everything was all right.” He didn’t dare think of what would happen if they found the Priestess here. She was a convict, an escaped prisoner, and what awaited her if se as caught was beyond his wildest imagination. Furthermore, if he was caught with her, conspiring against the king, it would without a doubt have great consequences for him as well. For a second, he had hesitated. Had he been too rash when sending Pelin off to arrange a meeting? Why did he care if Pasthia was put to ruin, if only he lived? Shaking his head, he had taken a step closer towards Raefin.

“The Priestess, and perhaps I, will be in grave danger if we meet here,” he had said, with a mild voice. ”The orcs come here every now and then, and if we are caught together,” the Priest had shivered as he spoke, “there will be little hope..” Raefin had seemed to understand, and with an eager voice he had asked what the Priest proposed for a meeting place instead.

“The ruins of the old Temple.”

“The Temple of Rhais?”

“No, the old Temple of Rae. Who will suspect a convict, a former Priestess of Rhais, in the old Temple of Rae?” Tarkan smiled faintly; it was indeed brilliant.

Raefin’ eyes had lit up at once, with both wonder and concern. For a moment he had kept his mouth shut, as if not daring to speak. Suddenly, however, he had erupted into a storm of questions and claims. “What are your intentions?” he had called out. Tarkan had tried ignoring him at first, but with this last question floating in thin air with nothing to follow, he had grabbed a hold of the man and pressed him against the wall. “What are my intentions?” His voice was far from mild. When getting angry, the priest always seemed to literally grow arger than life. This also seemed to be the case this time. “I’ll tell you what my intentions are! I have already risked my friend Pelin’s life by giving you my message. And now, I’m risking my life to restore this Kingdom. What are my intentions?!? What are my intentions?!? Now, you can either deliver my proposal to the priestess; that we meet in the old Temple of Rae, just before the time of the curfew, or you can refuse to give this message.”

Letting the Raefin go, Tarkan breathed heavily. “Do not let your own ego hinder the Priestess in making her own decisions. I advice you to do as I have told you, or it will have severe consequences for us all. I will be there.”

These words had seemed to have a certain effect on the middle-aged man, and without another word he had made his was towards the door. “So, the mystery man, or your friend, is named Pelin?”

Before Tarkan could give any reply, the man had gone.

***

The priest sat alone in one of the smaller rooms of his apartments. About twenty minutes had passed since Raefin had been here. Outside, it was already getting quite dark, and the streets had grown dead silent, even though it was still not beyond curfew. In a while he would have to get ready, and walk down the empty streets; first straight ahead, then left into an alley, and a few minutes ahead, he would see the old Temple. He had been there, just after the orcs had officially destroyed it, and been amazed of what still remained. The altar was still intact, and so was the room in the centre of the Temple. The thick, stout walls were there, and even though the Temple could no longer be used for worshipping, one could still find shelter for both wind and rain under what remained of the roof. If one hid in the long shadows the remaining parts of the building still cast, one could almost be sure of not being discovered, especially considering how seldom orcs, or other of the Kings guards, passed. However, Tarkan had other plans. Yes, the Temple itself could probably do as a location, but he had had something else in mind when talking to Raefin.

The old Temple of Rae had been built quite long ago, and even though Tarkan lived whilst it was being built, it was first during his service as a priest he had grown familiar with the secret the Temple kept closely to its heart. Beneath the altar in the Temple itself, was another altar; the Temple had a secret underground tunnel that led to a cellar, which intentionally had been situated directly under the real altar of the Temple. While ordinary people where sacrificing fruits for instance on the main floor, some of the priests kept secret rituals where they sacrificed more; animals, and in some rare cases humans, which were mostly castaways, beggars or tramps. In the elder days they had believed that Rae was on the edge of forsaking them, as their daily sacrifices were too little. The Priests were just doing everyone a favour by going a little bit further, and were in truth only seeing to the people’s best interests. He himself had participated once in a while in these rituals together with Pelin’s father. The two of them did not think highly of each other, yet Tarkan had agreed on training his son. Through Tarkan, and other young priests who took the responsibility for the elder Priest’s sons, the rituals and its tradition were kept intact, and kept a part of the secret worshipping of Rae.

Thinking of Pelin, Tarkan frowned. His friend had told him he would be back in a few hours, but the priest hadn’t expected Pelin to take think long, especially considering that the messenger from the Priestess had been here. It was odd, indeed. When remembering Raefin’s last words, he wondered whether everything was all right. The mystery man? Had Pelin not introduced himself?

It hit him, and thinking it over, he knew that it had been a smart move. The Priest smiled satisfyingly to himself: Pelin had been discreet, and thus, all was well.