, especially on the frequent long stretches between towns and imperial hostels, the scholar Sipio would have passed the time instructing the novice who accompanied him in the path of our faith. Being renowned for his studies and writings about heresies and false religions divergent from the True Faith, he no doubt tutored the novice in such matters.

The road to the south eastern plains of Cosia, where Sipio had been sent to investigate claims of a new heresy, was long but safe, for Cosia, at that time under the protection of the Emperor's Mother's Consort, the Rovan mercenary Rurik Kaalson, was as free of crime as it had ever been.

— Excerpt from The Chronicles of the Church Of Cosia

Pulling their donkey through Sica's deserted, pre-dawn streets, Lius looked ahead at Sipio's back and said, "Brother, why don't you try riding Simeon for a while?"

Sipio kept walking. "Did you read Brother Simeon's journal last night?"

"Yes," Lius said. "Well, some of it. I fell asleep after a while."

It was partly true. He had indeed opened the book and marveled at the delicate, spiralling calligraphy of the monk who had crafted this copy. He had even turned several pages, but he could remember none of the words he'd read before his eyes had grown heavy in the candlelight. He had fallen asleep with his head pillowed by the book on the table. And dreamt of the Talalek girl he'd met. Mirna.

Now, leading the donkey, Lius wondered if he would ever see her again. Probably not, he concluded. The thought made him feel mournful, which at least suited the grey light.

"You managed to read the first page, though?"

Lius had, but he couldn't remember it. "Yes."

Sipio finally stopped walking and turned to look at him. "Then that should tell you why I refuse to ride Simeon."

Lius nodded. "Yes, Brother. Have we got enough provisions to last until we reach the next town?"

Sipio smiled, as if sensing Lius's evasion. "Enough for today. At midnight, we should arrive at an imperial inn. We'll stay there and buy some more in the morning."

"Midnight?" Lius said. "Is it safe to travel between towns after dark?"

"The God will light the way forward for us," Sipio said. He smiled again and shrugged. "And if He doesn't, we'll die and be at His side forever. I suggest that you ride Simeon for a while, Novice. It's going to be a long day."

"Yes, Brother," Lius said. After the already traditional battle to keep Simeon still as he climbed up on him, he followed Sipio through the empty streets.

Despite the scholar's comforting words, Lius still felt uneasy about the prospects of traveling at night, but he kept his thoughts to himself as Sipio turned and resumed walking ahead of him. Lius wasn't so much bothered by death, as the manner in which he might die. Being bludgeoned to death by roadside bandits wasn't an end to life that he particularly desired.

They reached the town's southeast gate as the first glimmer of sunlight peeked over the walls. The slouching soldiers at the gate didn't bother to straighten up when they saw the two monks. One of them waved the pair through with a shining, never-used spear.

Now walking beside Lius, Sipio shook his head as soon as they were out of hearing range, with the gate behind them. "No gain in it for them, you see. They think all monks are poor, so they don't bother to search for anything we can bribe them with."

"Maybe they just respect our holiness, Brother," Lius said.

Just then, Simeon snorted. Wet, translucent droplets sprayed from the donkey's nose to the ground.

Sipio laughed. "Even the donkey is more worldly-wise than you, Novice. Innocence is fine in the monastery, but in the rest of the world, it's ignorance. Not everyone respects or reveres The God or the Church of Cosia as we do."

Lius thought of the butcher and the market trader he'd met yesterday. "I began to see that in town, Brother."

"Good," Sipio said. "The conversion of our people to the True Faith is relatively new, so there are many who do not yet believe."

"But Cosia has been worshipping the God for seven centuries," Lius said.

Sipio shook his head. "No it hasn't. Recognition of the God as being the only god began seven centuries ago. But it took five centuries to make everyone put aside the old gods and beliefs. Even now, many still cling to them in secret."

"The people were crying out for the church's guidance, though," Lius said.

Sipio looked at him and raised his eyebrows, gesturing for him to continue.

"Spiritless and soulless, their lives were without purpose," Lius continued. "They welcomed the True Faith into their hearts and minds with open arms."

Sipio sighed. "Novice Lius, we read to open our minds and to help us come to conclusions about difficult matters that are troubling us. It seems to me that when you read The Light of Our Faith, you did so for the sole purpose of being able to regurgitate entire passages without first thinking about whether you really believe them. A parrot could do that."

"A what?"

"A parrot. A bird that can talk."

"Birds can't talk," Lius said.

Sipio nodded. "Parrots can. But they only repeat words. What they are saying means nothing to them."

Unsure if Sipio was teasing him, Lius shook his head.

Sipio scowled. "The point is, you need to think about what you read. Otherwise it means nothing, even if you can repeat it verbatim. As it happens, the conversion of the people of Cosia was not universally popular. If it was, don't you think the rest of the world would follow?"

"I don't know, Brother."

"Take Rovan, for instance," Sipio said. He continued walking for a moment with his staff tapping the road by his side.

In the distance, Lius saw the dwarfed, twisted silhouettes of hundreds of olive trees. The sight of them made him feel homesick for the monastery's olive orchard.

Sipio tapped his shoulder with the top of his staff. "Concentrate, Novice. You might learn something. Now, Rovans believe in numerous gods, as do Capercains. The difference between them is that Rovans believe the gods have a father, Narok, who created all the rest so that they might create the world. The average Rovan believes in this pagan heresy with as much fervour and devoutness as you believe in the True Faith. More, perhaps."

"But it's a false belief, Brother!" Lius said, unable to stop himself from interrupting. "Rovans are wasting their prayers, their lives and their souls. They will have no afterlife because they don't worship the God."

"And a Rovan might say that we won't have an afterlife, because we don't believe in Narok or his children, and we are certainly not warriors who can help Narok in the final battle against evil."

"You say that like you believe it," Lius said.

"No, I don't. I say it like I understand why they believe it. And if you think about it, is that one, original creator—Narok—so different from the God?"

Before Lius could try to formulate a response, Sipio carried on. "Capercains, on the other hand, have numerous gods and goddesses but no single, unifying creator. They're all just deities of their own limited areas, a waterfall, or a river, or the like. Yet the Capercains worship them, and believe in them with all their hearts. Doing so brings them comfort and joy. So are they spiritless and soulless, Novice?"

"Yes, because they don't worship the God," Lius said.

"And before anyone, anywhere, began to perceive that there might be just one God, were they all spiritless and soulless?"

"Yes, of course."

"So, until seven centuries ago, no one ever reached the God's side?"

"Well, no."

"No matter how good they were, or how much comfort and joy they passed on to other people?"

Lius thought of Mirna, who obviously did not follow the True Faith as he did, but still believed in the God. "I don't know."

"Have you heard of Catec?" Sipio asked. "I say 'heard of,' because I'm taking it for granted you haven't read about it."

Lius nodded. "They sacrifice slaves there."

"Catec is where parrots are from, by the way," Sipio said. "And not just slaves are sacrificed. Anyone can be, although usually nobles are fairly safe. Do you know why they perform human sacrifices?"

"For their god. The sun," Lius added. "They worship the sun."

"But why do they sacrifice people to the sun?"

"I don't know. We were just taught that it's an abomination."

"The belief itself isn't," Sipio said. "The practicing of the belief is. The Catecs sacrifice over a thousand people a day to their god. They believe that to be sacrificed is the best and most holy way to die."

Lius frowned. "Why?"

Sipio smiled. "A few years ago I exchanged some letters with a teacher in Catec. In fact, he wrote the first letter to the Church of Cosi, but it was passed on to me. It took me almost a year to translate his words. He wanted to know about our beliefs. 'To find out what false gods heathens worship.' That was a joke, I believe, but it shows how people of other faiths think. To the people of Catec, we are the unbelievers."

"But we don't sacrifice people!"

"They perform the sacrifices because they believe that the soul of the sacrificial victim soars through the wound in his chest and up to the sky. They believe that if it fails to do so, the Moon Demon will rule the world and all will die."

"What do they do if it's cloudy?" Lius asked.

Sipio laughed. "I don't know. The whole point of this discussion, though, is to show you that people don't have to follow our faith to have a belief system that works for them."

"But it will be a false system, and they won't sit by the God's side when they die."

"The Catecs believe that when the sacrificed soul reaches the sky, it burns and crumbles to ashes. But in that moment, they will have achieved the purpose of the people of Catec's existence, which is to support the sun in its never-ending battle with the Moon Demon. What greater glory can there be than that?"

"The True Faith," Lius said.

"Look at this supposed heresy we're going to investigate," Sipio said. "Apparently, its founder has drawn hundreds of people to him. No doubt they're all happy. So what right do we have to tear their faith away from them?"

Lius started to reply, but a voice from further back called out, "Brother Novice! What a welcome sight you bring to these poor eyes!"

Lius twisted round on Simeon's saddle and saw the men from outside the inn yesterday. They were walking towards them with long, brisk strides, still some distance away.

"Do you know these men?" Sipio asked.

"Yes, Brother. They, well, that one, picked up the coin you threw to me yesterday."

"Ah, yes, the infamous gold coin," Sipio murmured. He cast a sly glance at Lius. "Do you know how many silver crowns a gold coin is worth?"

"No, Brother," Lius said.

"Four, if you bargain well, I believe." Sipio winked and turned his attention to the two men walking towards them. "It's a pleasant coincidence meeting them today."

"Not really, Brother. They said they would be traveling on this road today."

"Really. What time did you tell them we'd be leaving?"

"An hour after dawn, Brother."

"Then it's a good job we left earlier," Sipio said. "Otherwise, we might have found them lying in wait for us."

"Brother, these are honest men," Lius protested. "They gave me the coin back."

"In anticipation of a much greater reward," Sipio said. He sighed. "This is the God's punishment, I'm sure."

"What for, Brother?" Lius asked. For no apparent reason, he then remembered the inn woman, Ranara, and Sipio's bare shoulders and chest in bed.

"For the sin of pride, that the Church has given me so much money." Sipio squared his shoulders and tapped his staff on the road. "Still, a man is not made strong until he has faced down temptation. 'What use is our faith if we challenge not the evil within?'"

"Brother?"

"You must recognise it, Novice. It's from The Light of Our Faith. It seems that these two gentlemen are about to be confronted with the evil within themselves."

"Brother, shall we run?" Lius asked.

"Run? How will that help these two to find redemption?" Sipio asked. He raised his voice. "Good morning, my friends."

Hano and his friend drew to a halt about five yards away from them. "Good morning, Brother. This is embarrassing for us all, so I'll make it quick. We're going to take the purse with all your money in it, then kill you and bury you away from the road so you can't go back to Sica and tell the army."

Lius shivered at the villain's words, but Sipio stayed perfectly still.

"I see," the scholar said. "Let me first say thank you for your honesty, if not the intention behind it. Will you allow me to try to sway you from this evil path? Because of this, when you die you will be denied the chance to sit by the God's side."

Hano shrugged. "There are other reasons than this why I will be denied that chance." He looked at Lius. "Brother Novice, I would be grateful if you'd get down."

Without turning from Hano, Sipio said, "Before you do, Novice, make sure you HOLD TIGHT!"

The scholar swung his staff and smacked it across Simeon's rear. The donkey brayed and jolted forward, then started running down the road away from the two thieves. Lius clung onto Simeon's mane with both hands and bent over the donkey's neck so he wouldn't fall. The road flowed like a river between the furious donkey's legs, as he kept braying in pain and anger.

Lius risked a glance back. Sipio was sprinting after him with one hand holding his staff, the other clutching a handful of his habit, pulling it above his bony knees so he wouldn't trip over. The back of the habit flapped behind him like a tail and his sandals slapped on the stone road like wet fish. Despite the scholar's apparent awkwardness, he was far ahead of the two thieves, who looked like they had just begun to run. Lius imagined that they must have stood a while, shocked by Sipio's sudden action.

The chase continued for almost an hour. By then, Lius had succeeded in slowing Simeon down to a steady trot. Sipio was perhaps two hundred yards back, but Lius couldn't see any sign of the two thieves behind him. He pulled Simeon to a halt and waited for Sipio to catch up.

"Do you think we're safe now, Brother?" he asked.

His cheeks red, Sipio wheezed to a halt and bent over, gasping for breath. "I think so," he said when he had straightened. "They'll follow us for a while, though, maybe even until we reach the imperial inn tonight. We should stay ahead of them if we keep walking. No rests."

"What if they wait for us beyond the inn tomorrow?"

"Then we'll run away again. But I think they're bound to realize, when it grows cold and dark tonight, that it is not the God's will for them to rob us."

"Or kill us," Lius said.

"Indeed."

"You can run very fast, Brother," Lius said.

Sipio smiled. "Unlike you, Novice, I was brought up in a town, not a monastery. I've been involved in chases like that before."

"You mean people have tried to rob you before?"

"Well, sort of," Sipio said. "I wasn't always as honest as I am now, Novice. Or as chaste," he added under his breath.

"Sorry, Brother?"

Sipio exhaled a great rush of air. "We'd better start moving again. We need to keep ahead of your two friends, Novice."

"You must be tired, Brother. Why don't you ride Simeon for a while?" Lius asked.

Sipio started to shake his head but the movement started a breathless coughing fit. When he stopped, he nodded.

"Do you know, I think I will."

Lius jumped off Simeon's back and helped Sipio to clamber into the saddle. When Lius stepped back, the scholar sat with his back ramrod straight and his legs stuck out like arrows. His sandaled feet were about as far from Simeon's sides as they could be.

"This is most uncomfortable," the scholar said, glaring at Lius. "You do realise that this is all your fault, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, Brother?"

Sipio tapped Simeon's neck with an impervious wave of his staff. The donkey glanced uncertainly over his shoulder at its new rider, then started walking forward. Sipio rocked to one side and threw both arms around the donkey's neck. His staff clattered on the road.

"If you'd caught that wretched coin yesterday, none of this would have happened," he called out.

"Sorry, Brother."

The donkey started to trot. Sipio wailed in terror. Lius shook his head, bent to pick the staff up and bustled after them.