Andar was fairly sure that Narasan had been glossing over a goodly number of Aracia’s faults. Of course, if what they’d heard about the Elder Gods was anywhere close to being accurate, they were nearing the end of their cycle, and there was a distinct possibility that some ugly terms like “dotage,” “senility,” and “foolish” might apply, despite the fact that, with the exception of Dahlaine’s grey hair and beard, they showed none of the usual signs of extreme age—on the outside, at least.

It was about midafternoon on the following day when the Victory led the fleet into what civilized people would call the “harbor” of Aracia’s temple-town. There were a couple of crudely constructed docks jutting out from the beach, but nothing at all resembling the piers of Castano. There were several small buildings above the tide-line, but the major structure in the town—if anyone could call it a town—was quite obviously the temple.

“I don’t think letting the men go ashore here would be a very good idea,” Narasan told them as they gathered again in the large cabin near the stern of the Victory. “We know very little about the people of this part of the Land of Dhrall, so let’s not take any chances. Let’s keep things sort of formal until we get to know the people here a little better.”

“Should we leave our swords behind, Commander?” Brigadier Danal asked a bit dubiously.

“I don’t think so, no,” Narasan replied. “We are soldiers, after all, and we have been hired to fight a war. Just the presence of our swords should let everybody in the temple know why we’re here and what we’re capable of doing. No jokes or laughing, Padan. I’m sure it’ll hurt your face just a bit, but force yourself to look grim and bleak. We want the high-ranking people—priests, most likely—to know just exactly what we are and why we’re here.” He looked around at them. “Any questions?” he asked with one raised eyebrow.

Nobody answered.

“All right, then. Andar, would you be so good as to go advise ‘holy’ Aracia that we’ve arrived and that we’re ready to go ashore whenever she wants us to?”

“I’ll see to it, Commander,” Andar replied a bit reluctantly. Then he went out onto the deck of the anchored Victory.

He tapped on the door of Aracia’s cabin. “We’ve arrived at your temple-town, ma’am,” he called out. “Commander Narasan wants to know if you’d like us to escort you to your temple.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she replied through the door. “I’d better go on ahead and prepare my people to meet you. They aren’t used to seeing soldiers, so let’s not frighten them.”

“Whatever you think best, Lady Aracia,” Andar said in a neutral tone. Then he went back to Narasan’s cabin. “She’s not ready for us to go ashore yet,” he reported. “She wants to prepare her people before we make our appearance.”

“Or maybe clean house,” Padan suggested. “You know—mop the floors, dust the furniture, wash the windows, order the servants to put on clean clothes—all those important things a lady absolutely must do to impress the visitors.”

“That’s absurd, Padan,” Danal scoffed.

“I know,” Padan conceded, “but unfortunately, it might just come very close to being the truth.”

It was almost noon on the following day when a rather awkward canoe approached the Victory. Unlike the canoes of Lady Zelana’s Domain, this one appeared to be a hollowed-out log with a dozen or so paddlers on each side. A grossly fat man wearing a black linen robe and an ornate miter was standing at the front—which didn’t seem to be a very good idea to Andar. Standing up in a canoe could be a very good way to get wet in a hurry.

“Holy Aracia invites you to her temple, mighty warriors,” the man announced in an almost oratorical manner. “Welcome are you in her Domain in this time of crisis, forasmuch as we, her servants, are ill-prepared to meet the unholy invaders which most certainly even now are preparing to assault this precious land with evil intent, and though we would all joyfully die in her defense, beloved Aracia has most wisely chosen a different course, and you, O mighty warriors, have generously agreed to stand in our stead and to wreak destruction unimaginable upon our foes. Welcome, then, one and all, to the holy Domain of Divine Aracia, and at her command I have come here to advise you that she eagerly awaits your coming that you may speak with her of diverse crucial matters in preparation for the coming conflict.”

Padan turned rather abruptly and hurried over to the other side of the Victory, and Andar heard his muffled laughter.

“You may advise Holy Aracia that we shall come forthwith, revered sir,” Narasan said, accepting the invitation with no hint of a smile.

“Most kind are you, mighty warrior,” the fat native replied, “and I shall most quickly return to Holy Aracia’s temple to advise her of your coming.” He signaled the men holding paddles, and the hollowed-out log boat turned awkwardly around and went back toward the beach.

“Not a sound!” Commander Narasan hissed sharply. “I don’t want to hear so much as a giggle—at least not until that pompous fool gets out of earshot.”

“Is it my imagination, or does it look to you like this town was built on some sort of mound?” Brigadier Danal asked Andar as they started up from the beach.

“It does seem to be a bit higher than the rest of this coast,” Andar agreed. “It’s probably just a hill of some kind.”

“You don’t see too many hills this close to a beach in flat country,” Danal reminded his friend. “I hate to say this, but isn’t it possible that it’s man-made?”

Andar looked around, and his mind shuddered back from an ugly possibility. “Something like that would have taken centuries, Danal, and what purpose would it have served?”

“A temple built on high ground would be a bit more impressive than one on flat, coastal ground, and impressing people is very important to Veltan’s older sister, I’ve noticed.”

“I think you gentlemen may be overlooking something,” Padan said then. “If Lady Aracia wants something to happen, it probably will happen. All she’d have had to do was to say, ‘Rise up,’ and the ground would have been tickled to death to obey her.”

“Maybe,” Danal said a bit dubiously, “but if some of the things I’ve heard came even close to being the truth, fully half of the people in this part of the Land of Dhrall are priests, and taking on a project like building a mound that’s several miles across would have given them something to do in their spare time.”