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love the New Gods, villagers of Garlund? Do you fear them, adore them?"
The people screamed and shouted. They danced, leaping into the night air as though ecstacy forced
them to take vigorous action or die.
"Kill the sinner!" Hederick shouted. He swept his hand toward Venessi. She struggled against the
women who held her, then cowered as strong, determined hands twisted her arms and vicious
fingers pinched and pulled at her.
"Let not such an evildoer remain alive to infect you and your children. Kill her!"
With a roar, the crowd fell upon Venessi, drowning out her screams with their cries of righteous
rage. Hederick caught one last glimpse of his mother's terrified face, then she was swept under
clawlike hands and booted feet like a leaf in a whirlwind.
At length, the people drew back. Some looked bewildered, as though they had awakened only that
moment to find Venessi inexplicably trampled and beaten to death on the ground before them.
"People of Garlund." Hederick held the dragon aloft and offered another silent prayer to Sauvay.
"See what you have done," he remonstrated quietly. "This dear woman lived only for you. She
risked her life bringing you out of the decay of Caergoth to the richness of these plains. Venessi
gave up her beloved husband for you because he had sinned and no longer could set the example
she knew you needed. She sent her daughter away for the same reason: to keep you safe. It was
through her actions that you, the people of Garlund, came to the altar of the New Gods. She tried
her utmost to warn you about the false priest, yet you have so little love in your hearts that you..."
Hederick sighed, gesturing at the body. He clasped the dragon so tightly that the diamonds cut his
hand; tears welled in his eyes. He let a few drops spill onto his cheeks. "She was my mother, never
forget." He forced more tears to flow, and several villagers began to cry. All avoided looking at
Venessi's dead body.
"This is murder," Hederick whispered, so piercingly that all could hear him. "You have sinned,
people of Garlund. You know such a heinous act cannot be expiated by prayer and fasting, or by
sacrifices and gifts to the gods and their priests. There is only one punishment for such a crime.
"Willad, Jerad, Peren, attend me." The three men straightened as if hypnotized. "I order you, in the
name of Sauvay, god of power and vengeance, to execute the sinners of this village." To the
villagers, Hederick said, "I order you, in the name of Sauvay and the Seeker pantheons, to accept
your just punishment."
The villagers stood, sheeplike, awaiting their fate. Hederick rejoiced inwardly to Sauvay.
The three men set silently to work. Not one villager ran or struggled. The Oberl brothers and Peren
Volen strangled the life's breath out of each. Frideline Bacque, who'd worked so hard to attract
Peren Volen, did not even blink when he killed her.
When there were but the three men left, Hederick ordered Peren to slay the Oberls. Then, at
Hederick's command, Peren Volen walked obediently down to the river and drowned himself, and
the people of Garlund were no more.
Soon Hederick had the Oberls' best horse harnessed to the wagon. A short time later, the back of the
vehicle was piled with items for his travels. Then he set fire to Gar-lund.
"Fire purifies," he murmured, reveling in the heat and cleansing power of the blaze. Once again
flames lit Heder-ick's way as he left a place of sin. Soon he and the horse and wagon were miles
away, and the sun had begun to rise.
"Think of the converts I can bring to the Seekers, and to Sauvay!" he whispered to himself. He
wrapped the dragon figurine in a scrap of leather, tied a thong to it, and slipped it around his neck,
inside his shirt.
Hederick faced the world alone, but he knew a god watched over him.
* * * * *
For more than three decades Hederick traveled the lands, a wandering Seeker priest, bringing the
words of the New Gods to the people. The Praxis, his constant companion, served as both
inspiration and confirmation that his purpose was preordained by the gods themselves. As he grew
older and more experienced in the ways of the world and its peoples, his gift of oratory grew
accordingly. Soon he was able to assess a crowd in moments and know how best to handle it. Some
needed fire and brimstone, some only gentle persuasion.
And just as he made good use of his gift for speaking, he made use, also, of the sleight-of-hand
tricks that Tarscenian had taught him so many years ago.
Fame followed him. Hederick, the holy man of the north, converted hundreds of thousands of
people to the New Gods.
The devout cheered as Hederick entered their towns. He always took care to hold the Diamond
Dragon against his palm as he entered a village. Time and again, townspeople vied to offer him
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