'But,' protested Stulwig, 'suppose Vashanka seeks me out? Shall I pit my staff against the Rankan god of war?' When Cappen merely stood there, looking indifferent now, the healer continued in a desperate tone, 'There are stories of how Ils helped individuals in battle in the old days. But I grew up after the' Rankan conquest and -' he was gloomy - ' somehow the powers of the defeated god of old Ilsig didn't seem worth inquiring about. So I'm ignorant of what he did, or how.'

Abruptly, Cappen Varra was impatient. 'You asked for my advice,' he said curtly. 'I have given it to you. Goodbye.'

He walked off into the crowd.

They brought Stulwig before the prince, who recognized him. 'Why, it's the healer,' he said. Whereupon, he glanced question-ingly at Molin Torchbearer.

The hall of justice was all too brightly lit by the mid-afternoon sunlight. The sun was at that location in the sky whereby its rays shone directly through the slanting vents that were designed to catch, and siphon off, rain water ... as the high priest said accusingly, 'Your most gracious excellency, we found this follower of Ils in the temple of Vashanka.'

With the brilliant light pouring down upon him, Stulwig started towards the dais - and the two Hell Hounds, who had been holding him, let him go.

He stopped only when he came to the long wooden barrier that separated the accused criminals from the high seat, where the prince sat in judgement. From that fence, Stulwig spoke his protest. 'I did no harm, your highness. And I meant no harm. Tell his excellency-' he addressed Torchbearer - 'that your assistants found me on my knees before the-' he hesitated; he had been about to say 'the idol'. Uneasily, his mind moved over to the word, 'statue'. But he rejected that also, shuddering. After a long moment he finished lamely - 'before Vashanka himself, praying for his assistance.'

'Yes, but a follower of Ils praying to a son of Savankala-' Torchbearer was grim - 'absolutely forbidden by the doctrines of our religion.'

There seemed to be no answer that he could make. Feeling helpless, Stulwig waited. It was a year since he had last seen the youthful governor, who would now decide his fate. Standing there, Stulwig couldn't help but notice that there were changes in the young ruler's appearance - for the better, it seemed to him.

The prince, as all knew, was at this time twenty years old. He had been representative in Sanctuary for his older half-brother, the emperor, for only one of those years, but that year had brought a certain maturity where once there had been softness. It was still a boyish face, but a year of power had marked it with an appearance of confidence.

The young governor seemed undecided, as he said, 'Well - it does not look like a serious crime. I should think we would encourage converts rather than punishing them.' He hesitated, then followed the amenities. 'What penalty do you recommend?' He addressed the high priest of Rankan deities courteously.

There was a surprisingly long pause. Almost, it was as if the older man was having second thoughts. Torchbearer said finally, 'Perhaps, we should inquire what he was praying for. And then decide.'

'An excellent idea,' the prince agreed heartily.

Once more, then, Stulwig told his story, ending in a humble tone, 'Therefore, sir, as soon as I discovered that, apparently, the great gods themselves were involved in some disagreement, I decided to pray to Vashanka to ask what he wanted me to do; asked him what amends I could make for whatever my sin might be.'

He was surprised as he completed his account to see that the prince was frowning. And, in fact, moments later, the young governor bent down towards one of the men at a table below him to one side, and said something in a low voice. The aide's reply was equally inaudible.

The youngest ruler Sanctuary had ever had thereupon faced forwards. His gaze fixed on Stulwig's face. 'There are several people in these parts,' he said in an alarmingly severe voice, 'of whose whereabouts we maintain a continuing awareness. Cappen Varra, for several reasons, is one of these. And so, Mr Healer, I have to inform you that Cappen left Sanctuary half a moon ago, and is not expected back for at least two more moons.'

'B-b-bu-ut-' Stulwig began. And stopped. Then in a high-pitched voice: 'That man in the seeress's dream!' he stuttered. 'Long black hair to the shoulders. Ils in human form!'

There was silence after he had spoken there in that great hall of justice, where a youthful Rankan prince sat in judgement, looking down from his high bench. Other offenders were waiting in the back of the room. They were guarded by slaves, with the two Hell Hounds that had brought Stulwig acting as overseers.

So there would be witnesses to this judgement. The wisdom of it, whatever course it might take, would be debated when the news of it got out.

Standing there, Stulwig suppressed an impulse to remind his highness of a certain night thirteen moons ago. In the wee hours he had been called out of his bed, and escorted to the palace.

On that occasion he had been taken directly into the prince's bedroom. There he found a frightened young man, who had awakened in the darkness with an extremely fast heartbeat - more than double normal, Stulwig discovered when he counted the pulse. The attending court healer had not been able, by his arts, to slow the madly beating organ. Stulwig had braced himself, and had taken the time to ask the usual questions, which produced the information that his highness had imbibed excessively all evening.

A minor heart condition was thus revealed. The cure: primarily time for the body to dispose of the alcohol through normal channels. But Stulwig asked, and was given, permission to return to his greenhouse. He raced there accompanied by a Hell Hound. Arrived at his quarters, he procured the mixture of roots, nettles, and a large red flower which, when steeped in boiling water, and swallowed in mouthfuls every few minutes, within an hour had the heartbeat down, not to normal, but sufficiently to be reassuring.

He thereupon informed the young man that according to his father persons that he had attended when they were young, who had the same reaction, were still alive two decades later. The prince was greatly relieved, and promised to limit himself to no more than one drink of an evening.

Remained, then, the task of saving face for the court healer. Which Stulwig did by thanking that disgraced individual for calling him for consultation; and, within the hearing of the prince, adding that it took many individuals to accumulate experience of all the ills that men were heir to. 'And one of these days I shall be asking your help.'

Would the youthful governor remember that night, and decide - hopeful thought that Alten Stulwig was too valuable to penalize?

What the prince did, first, was ask one more question. He said, 'During the time you were with the person who seemed to be Cappen Varra, did he break into song, or recite a verse?'

The significance of the question was instantly apparent. The minstrel was known for his gaiety, and his free and easy renditions under all circumstances. Stulwig made haste to say, 'No, highness, not a sound, or a poetic phrase. Contrariwise, he seemed very serious.'

A few moments later, the prince rendered his judgement. He said, 'Since mighty Vashanka himself seems to be acting directly in this matter, it would be presumptuous of us to interfere.'

The lean-faced young man glanced at Molin. The high priest hesitated, then nodded. Whereupon the prince turned once more to Stulwig.