a raised sword. The statue might have inspired awe, but Bleist had seen far more beautiful and majestic ones in his life. Unusually, black shrines to Direl and Tanatos were placed halfway along the building, on opposite sides of the main nave. An indispensable element of the faith.
Earl finally spotted someone. In the centre of the temple, an elderly priest in a white and gold robe was making his way towards them. It was hard not to notice that he was heading specifically for them.
‘Greetings, honourable guests, to the threshold of the Temple of Bushtabhar,’ said the old man rather quietly. ‘I am the archdeacon of this community, Dimitrus Galis, at your service.’
‘Greetings, Archdeacon. I am Darius Bleist, Colonel of the Azure Guard and Military Advisor to the Grand Master.’ Darius bowed politely. ‘I apologise for taking up your time, but I would like to ask about the local surgeon.’
‘The surgeon. . . Ah, yes, Erthvat Oxern.’ The priest visibly brightened. ‘He is a fine specialist who helps the poor.’
‘Where might we find him?’
‘Over there, where he helps the faithful.’ The priest pointed to one of the gathered groups. ‘Though I haven’t seen Oxern for some time,’ he admitted with a look of consternation. ‘It's possible he isn't here at the moment. He sometimes goes to help our faithful in their homes.’ The smile on the old man's face gave no cause for concern. ‘If you're keen to meet him, I invite you to pray for greater patience.’
