"Well, if it isn't the Elder Leader's lackey. What are you doing on this trip, Gwyl peDrang? I didn't notice you this afternoon."
Gwyl smiled and said nothing. He had ridden by fast deest downriver to the next port below Gelusar in order to avoid boarding the Krand II in the great city. He would leave at the, next port if possible—the one after, if necessary. It all depended—
"I got on quietly," said Gwyl after a moment. "I wasn't anxious to have the Elder Leader know where I was going."
"Oh? And where are you going?" A vaguely puzzled note crept into Lokness' voice; he had little inclination to carry on a conversation with Gwyl peDrang, but it was easier to continue talking to the little man than to make an escape.
"I'm going with you," Gwyl said candidly. "There are spies in your office, you know. You're heading for Tammulcor to talk to the Director. You might want someone to back up your story."
Lokness was a little startled. "Spies ... yes, of course I knew. But ... hold on a moment! What do you mean, 'back up my story'?"
Gwyl said, "I'll be frank with you. I would like to enter the priesthood, but the Elder Leader says I'm only fit to be an acolyte. That's a personal reason. And I think the Elder Leader is taking too much on himself. Within a year, the Council will have no power at all. That's what might be termed a patriotic reason. Do you follow?"
Lokness' eyes narrowed. "I follow. You're saying that you'll tell the Director all you know about Nibro peSyg's machinations. Right?"
Gwyl nodded. "That's right. With the implied provision, naturally, that you'll do your best to get me into the priesthood."
Lokness was silent, staring out at the rain-spattered water. He considered the proposition.
He didn't trust the acolyte—but his story sounded good. Pure altruism from Gwyl peDrang, the Elder thought, would have been ridiculous—but personal gain was entirely within the man's character.
And a witness would be of value—
He tossed the matter back and forth in his mind for a few more moments, eyes fixed on a distant point cloaked by darkness. He had nearly made up his mind to accept the acolyte's offer when the moment came.
The deck on that side of the river-boat was entirely innocent of witnesses; there was no one in sight. Lokness was leaning over the rail, peering at the swiftly-flowing water as if it held the answer to everything.
A hard, heavy club smashed into the back of the Elder's head. He grunted, started to topple.
A quick heave, and the body tumbled over into the river, to be caught by the churning paddlewheel. There was a faint scream, barely audible beneath the thunder of the mechanism.
For a moment, the white foam was tinged with color. Then that, too, was gone.
When Drelk peShawm Brajjyd of Gelusar returned to the offices of the Keeper of the Bank of Sugon to hear what, if any, explanation Korvin peKorvin planned to proffer, there were several other men in the office besides the Keeper.
The tall young priest paused uncertainly at the door. "I didn't know this was to be a public meeting, Keeper Korvin," he said stiffly, tapping his fingers on his thigh in an irritated gesture. "Just who are all these people?"
The Keeper rose slowly from behind his desk. "Just some of the townspeople, Grandfather," he said pleasantly. "They have heard some of the ... ah ... charges against me, and they asked to be allowed to attend the meeting. Surely you don't object?"
Drelk peShawm glanced around. "I see no objection," he said after a moment. "If you want to make your activities public—" He shrugged. "Who are they?"
"Permit me to introduce them," Korvin peKorvin said. His voice remained polite. "This is Grang peDorg Dmorno, Chairman of the Board of our local school—Sugon Divine Law and Science. This gentleman is Gwylim peGanz Vyless, who heads our local Merchant's Council here in the city of Lidacor. Gils peKlin Sesom, over here, is a representative of the Seamen's Guild who bases his operations in Sugon. My friend to the left is Rahn peDom Dmorno, Uncle of Public Peace. And this is Grandfather Fulda peDrogh Brajjyd, Priest-Mayor of Lidacor.
"Gentlemen, Grandfather Drelk peShawm Brajjyd, who represents the Council at Gelusar."
The young priest glanced quickly down the row of seated Sugonese. Some were smiling, some were not, but none of their expressions were easy to read. The array of names, rattled off one right after another had confused him—which was exactly what Korvin peKorvin wanted.
Korvin kept smiling, but he watched the younger man closely.
"I hadn't expected quite so much of a crowd," Drelk peShawm began hesitantly, evidently to cover his own momentary loss of mental balance, "however, I think—"
"Would you mind explaining to all of us the exact nature of this patently fantastic charge against our Keeper?" interrupted the Priest-Mayor in a sharp, brittle voice.
"I'm just getting to that!" Drelk peShawm snapped harshly. Then he realized that it was a priest who had spoken, and frowned unhappily.
"As I explained to Keeper Korvin peKorvin yesterday," he continued in a more subdued voice, "there has been a certain regrettable lack of weight in the shipment of money from Sugon to Gelusar. As you know, we are now engaged in rebuilding the Great Temple of Holy Gelusar, and at this time it is extremely important that the Council Treasury be able to handle the vast expenses thus occurred. For this reason, we decided that it had become necessary to investigate the books of the Bank of Sugon."
The man from the Seaman's Guild said: "Sugon is not a rich province—never has been. If there isn't much money, it's because we haven't got much, not because of any alleged dishonesty of our Bank Keeper."
"I have reason to think he's lying," snapped Drelk peShawm.
"You don't trust our Keeper's word?" the Merchant's Council representative interjected. "Ridiculous! The Bank Keepers have always been among our most trusted citizens. We have known him all our lives; if we can't trust him, we can trust no one."
Furrows appeared on the priest's brow as he struggled to recall the name of the man who had spoken. Finally, he resorted to "Sir" and said: "A fine and noble attitude, sir, but not a sound one. Things have changed in the past generation. There was a time when one automatically assumed that money stored in a bank was safe—until the devil Earthmen proved otherwise when they cleared out the Bank of Dimay years ago. No, I'm afraid we can't take your Keeper's word at face value."
"Outrageous!" Gwylim peGanz said. "Why, we always trust our Keeper! He's as honest as ... as the Great Light Himself!"
An irritated smile burst out on the priest's face. "You think so. I have evidence here ... here in these record books ... that your beloved Keeper of the Bank has been swindling money for years! That he's been diverting sacred monies from Gelusar for his own gain! That—"
"These things are flatly impossible," said the Priest-Mayor. "Korvin peKorvin is one of our most admired citizens. This can't be."
"Look in the books!" Drelk peShawm half-screamed. "I don't have to waste words here. The man is plainly guilty; you can see that the moment you examine his records. They make no sense except on superficial first glance. Add his columns—"
The Priest-Mayor shoved away the ledger Drelk peShawm had thrust in his face.
"I'm no accountant; looking at columns of figures would be a waste of time. I'm perfectly willing to take the word of a man known to be a reliable authority. I have sufficient faith in Korvin peKorvin. I refuse to insult him by considering even the possibility of his dishonesty."
"Aye!" bellowed the seaman, and the others in the room nodded approval. Korvin peKorvin merely smiled beamingly at the Gelusar priest.