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But if Black-robes have tainted his mind "
"Then I shall see that they make no evil use of him," Riveda promised grimly, and his face relaxed a little;
"He has not the wit to be evil."
"Ignorance is worse than evil intent," Rajasta warned, and Riveda sighed.
"See for yourself, if you will," he said, and stepped to the open door, speaking in a low voice to
someone in the court. After a moment, a young man came noiselessly into the room.
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II
He was slight and small and looked very young, but on a second glance it could be seen that the
features, though smooth as a boy's, were devoid of eyelashes as well as of beard. His brows were but
the thinnest, light line, yet his hair was heavy and black, felling in lank locks which had been trimmed
squarely at his shoulders. Light grey eyes gazed at Rajasta, unfocussed as if he were blind; and he was
darkly tanned, although some strange pallor underlying the skin gave him a sickly look. Rajasta studied
the haggard face intently, noting that the chela held himself stiffly erect, arms away from his body, thin
hands hanging curled like a newborn child's at his sides. He had moved so lightly, so noiselessly, that
Rajasta wondered, half-seriously, if the creature had pads like a cat's on his feet.
He beckoned the chela to approach, and asked kindly, "What is your name, my son?"
The dull eyes woke suddenly in an unhealthy glitter. He looked about and took a step backward, then
opened his mouth once or twice. Finally, in a husky voice as if unaccustomed to speaking he said,
"My name? I am . . . only a fool."
"Who are you?" Rajasta persisted. "Where are you from?"
The chela took another step backward, and the furtive swivelling of his sick eyes intensified. "I can see
you are a Priest," he said craftily. "Aren't you wise enough to know? Why should I twist my poor brain to
remember, when the High Gods know, and bid me be silent, be silent, sing silent when the stars glow,
mooning driftward in a surge of light. . . ." The words slid off into a humming croon.
Rajasta could only stare, thunderstruck.
Riveda gestured to the chela in dismissal. "That will do," he said; and as the boy slipped from the room
like a mumbling fog-wraith, the Adept added, in explanation to Rajasta, "Questions always excite
him as if at some time he'd been questioned until he withdrew."
Rajasta, finding his tongue, exclaimed, "He's mad as a seagull!"
Riveda chuckled wryly. "I'm sorry. He does have intervals when he's reasonably lucid, and can talk quite
rationally. But if you question he slips back into madness. If you can avoid anything like a question "
"I wish you had warned me of that,' Rajasta said, in genuine distress. "You told me he gave the correct
responses "
Riveda shrugged this off. "Our Signs and counter-Signs are not in the form of questions," he remarked,
"at least he can betray none of my secrets! Have you no secrets in the Temple of Light, Rajasta?"
"Our secrets are available to any who will seek sincerely."
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Riveda's frigid eyes glittered with offense. "As our secrets are more dangerous, so we conceal them
more carefully. The harmless secrets of the Temple of Light, your pretty ceremonies and rites no man
could harm anyone even if he meddled with the knowledge unworthily! But we work with dangerous
powers and if one man know them and be unfit to trust with such secrets, then such things come as
befell young Micon of Ahtarrath!" He turned savagely on Rajasta. "You of all men should know why we
have cause to keep our secrets for those who are fit to use them!"
Rajasta's lips twisted. "Such as your crazy chela?"
"He knows them already; we can but make sure he does not misuse them in his madness." Riveda's
voice was flat and definite. "You are no child to babble of ideals. Look at Micon . . . you honor him, I
respect him greatly, your little Acolyte what is her name? Domaris adores him. Yet what is he but a
broken reed?"
"Such is accomplishment," from Rajasta, very low.
"And at what price? I think my crazy boy is happier. Micon, unfortunately " Riveda smiled, "is still able
to think, and remember."
Sudden anger gusted up in Rajasta. "Enough! The man is my guest, keep your mocking tongue from him!
Look you to your Order, and forbear mocking your betters!" He turned his back on the Adept, and
strode from the room, his firm tread echoing and dying away on stone flooring; and never heard Riveda's
slow-kindled laughter that followed him all the way.
Chapter Three
THE UNION
I
The sacred chamber was walled with tall windows fretted and overlaid with intricate stone-work
casements. The dimmed moonlight and patterns of shadow bestowed an elusive, unreal quality upon the
plain chairs and the very simple furnishings. A high-placed oval window let the silvery rays fall full on the
altar, where glowed a pulsing flame.
Micon on one side, Rajasta on the other, Domaris passed beneath the softly shadowed archway; in
silence, the two men each took one of the woman's hands, and led her to a seat, one of three facing the
altar.
"Kneel," said Rajasta softly, and Domaris, with the soft sibilance of her robes, knelt. Micon's hand
withdrew from hers, and was laid upon the crown of her head.
"Grant wisdom and courage to this woman, O Great Unknown!" the Atlantean prayed, his voice
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low-pitched, yet filling the chamber with its controlled resonances. "Grant her peace and understanding,
O Unknowable!" Stepping back a pace, Micon permitted Rajasta to take his place.
"Grant purity of purpose and true knowledge to this woman," said the Priest of Light. "Grant her growth
according to her needs, and the fortitude to do her duty in the fullest measure. O Thou which Art, let her
be in Thee, and of Thee." Rajasta took his hand from her head and himself withdrew.
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