"Yes, I think you have learned, Vaijon," Tomanāk told him after a moment. "It was a hard lesson, but the ones which cut deepest are always hardest, and there is no resentment in your heart." Vaijon blinked, amazed to realize that was true, and Tomanāk smiled at him. "So you've learned the entire lesson, not just the easy part, my knight. Good!" Another laugh, this one softer and gentler but no less powerful, rumbled through the salle. "I'm pleased, Vaijon. Perhaps now you'll finally start living up to the potential Charrow always saw within you."

"I'll try, Lord," Vaijon said with unwonted humility.

"I'm sure you will... and that you'll backslide from time to time," Tomanāk said. "But, then, even my champions backslide at times, don't they, Bahzell?"

"A mite, perhaps. Now and then," Bahzell conceded.

"Hmm." Tomanāk gazed down at his champion for a moment, then nodded. "It seems to me that Vaijon will need a proper example to keep him from losing any of the ground he's gained," he observed, "and having someone to be an example to might just keep you from getting carried away with your own enthusiasm, Bahzell. So perhaps I should entrust Vaijon to your keeping—as your trainee, as it were."

The hradani stiffened, but Tomanāk went on before he could interrupt.

"Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea. He needs some field experience, and you'll be able to use all the help you can get in the next few months. Besides—" the war god grinned at his champion's pained expression "—think how well he and your father will get along!"

"Now just one minute, there!" Bahzell began finally. "I'm thinking it's the outside of—"

"Oh, hush, Bahzell! Or are you saying the lad doesn't have the potential for it?"

"Well, as to that," Bahzell said with a glance at Vaijon which the younger man didn't fully understand, "I'll not say yes and I'll not say no. It's likely enough, when all's said, but—"

"Trust me, Bahzell," Tomanāk soothed. "It's an excellent idea, even if I do say so myself. And now that that's settled, I'll be going."

"But—" Bahzell began, and then closed his mouth with a snap as Tomanāk vanished as suddenly as he'd appeared. The Horse Stealer glowered at the space the god had occupied for several seconds, then growled something under his breath, unslung his shield, and sheathed his sword. He stood in the center of the salle, arms folded, and then glanced up as the profound and utter silence registered upon him.

Scores of eyes looked back at him, huge with awe. The knights and lay-brothers were still on their knees, even Yorhus and Adiskael, gazing raptly at him, and he twitched his shoulders uncomfortably.

Just like himself to be popping in and out like a cheap candle flame, he thought moodily.

"Not a cheap candle, Bahzell," a voice chided out of thin air. "And while you're standing around feeling put upon, don't you think it would be a good idea to heal Vaijon's arms? You did break them, after all."