"It’s not far now," Saimura reassured him.
John silently calmed himself and followed Saimura through the last few yards of deep snow and dark pine forest. Finally, Saimura led John out into a wide clearing.
"Amura’dasstu," Saimura said.
John wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Perhaps he had anticipated some kind of fortress or heavily fortified compound, but the Fai’daum camp was neither. It looked like a small village.
A low stone wall encircled a cluster of thirty or forty dark stone and wood buildings. Only one of the buildings rose more than a single story high. It appeared to be a Payshmura chapel. The rest of the villiage seemed to be a scattering of squat houses with steep thatched roofs. Large drifts of snow occasionally slipped from the roofs and crashed to the ground.
The buildings reminded John of the houses in the poorest sections of Amura’taye where several families lived communally. Thick clouds of gray smoke drifted up from the chimneys only to be swallowed by the falling snow.
John recognized the animal pens where flocks of goats and sheep should have been gathered. They enclosed nothing but fields of snow now. A wood bridge stood in the distance and John guessed that a stream lay somewhere beneath the snow.
There appeared to be only a single sentry at the gate in the low wall. A young man in a wool hood and a thick quilted coat hunched over a small fire. He glanced up briefly at John and Saimura but didn’t pay much attention to them otherwise.
"Much longer on watch?" Saimura asked the young man as they passed him.
"Nearly done."
"See you at supper, then." Saimura pulled the wooden gate open and held it for John. Paths had been dug out of the deep snow where the roads would have been. Here and there John could feel the uneven surfaces of cobblestones.
"If you don’t mind," Saimura said, "I’ll have Fenn stable your tahldi. You should probably see Ji immediately."
"Of course," John replied. He hadn’t even thought about how he would stable the animal. Saimura whistled and a slim man came sauntering out of one of the nearby buildings. When the man drew close John caught the distinct scent of saddle leather on him. John handed his reins over.
"He’ll be well taken care of," Saimura assured John. "Won’t he, Fenn?"
Fenn nodded and gave John a friendly wink. His dark hair and tanned complexion contrasted sharply with his pale green eyes. As Fenn led the tahldi back inside the big building, John briefly wondered if many other Fai’daum bore such striking traces of Eastern ancestry.
But then Saimura turned away and John hurried to follow him. He led John up through the center of the village, across the stone bridge, and directly to the tall black chapel.
Long icicles hung from the eaves of the steeply sloping roof. The steps had been cleared of snow and ice. Yellow suns decorated the tall doors. Saimura kicked off his snowshoes and entered.
Inside, heat poured up from a big fireplace. The red glow of the flames reflected across the polished surfaces of a huge statue of Parfir. The god’s benign image filled the far wall and completely overshadowed the small altar.
After John’s eyes adjusted to the dimness beyond the firelight, he realized that there were three other people in the large room. All three wore the gray robes of ushvun’im. One older man, his gray hair parted into three braids, lifted his hands in the Payshmura sign of peace. Out of reflex John returned the gesture.
Saimura gave John a curious look but didn’t comment. Instead, he strode forward to the older man.
"Giryyn," Saimura addressed the older man with surprising informality, "this is Jahn."
"Gin’yu said that you were bringing a man back with you." Giryyn studied John for a moment. John lowered his gaze politely as he would have before a superior priest in Rathal’pesha.
"He’s the man who broke the God’s Razor at the blood market in Amura’taye," Saimura said.
"So Gin’yu told me," Giryyn replied. "Ji is on her way. In the meantime, the two of you should warm yourselves. The brothers and I will bring you something hot to drink."
"That would be good." Saimura strode to the fire. "Is there anything to eat?"
"Not yet, but soon." Giryyn turned away and spoke quietly to the two younger men. The three of them retreated back through a simple black door. John joined Saimura beside the fire. "I wasn’t expecting a chapel," John remarked.
"No one ever does," Saimura said.
"Is Giryyn really a priest?" Something about his poise and tone had seemed deeply authentic.
"He, Lam, and Daru are all priests." Saimura pulled off his thick gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of his coat. He lifted his hands up to the heat of the fire. "Giryyn studied at the Black Tower in his youth. Lam and Daru are both originally from Vundomu. All three of them fought in the Harvest Riots. Giryyn was with Sabir when they destroyed the Hishii Monastery and distributed the church’s stockpiled taye to the farmers."
John remembered Samsango talking about his desperate flight for safety after the monastery’s destruction. The Fai’daum had hunted the fleeing priests down ruthlessly.
Saimura continued, "Now the Fai’daum have grown so much that we can’t count on the cover of a few trees to hide us all. But our little village, complete with a chapel, isn’t too bad, is it?"
"No, not at all." John leaned back against the corner of the fireplace. The heat felt so good. It had been days since he’d been this warm. He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he found that Saimura had moved closer to him.
"You look tired, Jahn. You should rest," Saimura said.
"I will soon, I’m sure. Right now it’s a relief just to be warm."
"Here." Saimura stripped off his coat and laid it down on the stone floor in front of the fire. "At least sit down." Saimura caught John’s hand and pulled him down onto the coat beside him. The action seemed too familiar, too intimate. Ravishan was already jealous of Saimura and this would just look bad from the Gray Space. Or from any space, really. Feeling a slight anxiety, John glanced around, looking for any sign of Ravishan. But, if he was nearby, he was far too deeply hidden in the Gray Space for John to see any trace of him. He could have been anywhere.
"I don’t know if this is a good idea – " John began.
"You’re safe here," Saimura said. "I won’t allow any harm to come to you."
"Aren’t the priests going to be coming back soon?"
"Yes, but they’ll just have us sit here as well. It’s the warmest place to be," Saimura said. There was such an innocent assurance to Saimura’s tone. He didn’t even seem aware that his gentle, welcoming actions might be interpreted as something more personal.
"The Payshmura are not going to find you here," Saimura said. "You can relax."
John realized that it was pointless to argue. He wanted to rest. The heat from the fire at his back felt so soothing after being cold for so long. Oddly, the floor was unusually warm, as if heat were rising up from far below it. John closed his eyes and let his senses drift.
Almost immediately he discovered the vast labyrinth of tunnels and chambers that spread out from beneath the chapel. Warm living bodies filled the spaces where stone and earth had been cleared away. People and animals moved through the wide corridors. Families gathered around fireplaces in the hundreds of small chambers, signing to each other. Smoke from big ovens and wood fires rose in shafts and joined the chimney stacks of the houses above ground. Rifles and guns filled entire rooms while sacks of grain and dry goods lined the granite walls of massive storerooms. It was a city, John realized. An entire Fai’daum city lay buried beneath the tiny village of Amura’dasstu.
John felt a warm hand touch his shoulder. John opened his eyes. Saimura smiled at him and said, "Wake up, Jahn. Giryyn has brought us our refreshments."
The old priest knelt and set a small wooden tray in front of John. A pale clay cup with a lid sat on the tray.
"This is especially for you," Giryyn said. "It will warm you after so much time outside."