decided to pursue this course this day. It was almost a replay of the conversation he had shared with young Abbot Olin soon after the man had ascended to the leadership of St. Bondabruce, a necessary understand-ing before the two men could pursue an honest friendship.
Yakim Douan came to recognize his own instincts then. When he had heard of Mackaront's visit, he had at once assumed that Olin might have died. Thus, his instincts had sent him into this unexpected conversation, one that might lead him down a road of friendship with Master Macka-ront, Abbot Olin's possible successor.
Better for Yakim Douan, for the end of this corporeal incarnation and for the early years of the next, if Master Mackaront of St. Bondabruce came to a higher understanding and appre-ciation of the Yatol religion.
"I know you are wrong because I am the God-Voice of Yatol," the Chezru Chieftain explained. ?As your Father Abbot Agronguerre knows that I... that we," he added, sweeping his hand out toward Merwan Ma, "are wrong in our beliefs." Yakim Douan gave a shrug, as if it didn't really matter. 'Your Abbot Olin understands this. What we, together, have come to know is that, though our beliefs are very different, our goals are not so much so. Pious Abellicans are closer to Yatol than the highwaymen of your lands, as pious Yatols should be far more welcomed into the gates of your heaven than the unlawful pirates running the Behrenese coastline."
Yakim Douan glanced back at Merwan Ma as he spoke, noting how the man's eyes widened! Of course they did, and if Yakim Douan had not trusted Merwan Ma implicitly to keep this conversation private, he never would have spoken in such a manner with the man present. For the formal and public declarations of the Yatol religion were quite clear concerning the Abellicans. Their gemstone use alone damned them! To the Yatols, the gemstones were the instruments of the demon dactyls, and by that reason-ing, ?pious" Abellicans should have been placed at the end of the line for those seeking to enter the Paradise promised by Yatol.
While Merwan Ma was obviously confused and stunned, Master Macka-ront seemed to ease back into his seat, a bit more relaxed. Yes, Yakim Douan saw, and was glad: the seeds were being planted well.
"Enough of philosophy," the Chezru Chieftain announced. ?You did not come here for such a discussion as this, I am sure, and my time is pressing. What news from Abbot Olin?"
Master Mackaront spent a moment collecting himself, clearing his throat and snorting a few very unpleasant sounds. Yakim Douan tried to ignore the man, looking back out to the west and the long line of mountains.
"Abbot Olin bade me come to Jacintha to tell you that Father Abbot Agronguerre's health has turned for the worse," the man from Entel ex-plained. ?He is very old and very frail, and a College of Abbots is expected within a year or two."
"And does Abbot Olin expect to ascend to your highest post at that Col-lege of Abbots?"
"He does. He has rivals, of course..."
"That is why our ascension is placed in the hands of God, and not mortal man," Yakim Douan couldn't resist interjecting.
Mackaront bristled and coughed, but worked past the remark. ?There is one master at St.-Mere-Abelle who will strive hard against him. And an-other, perhaps, a younger man, but one who was fortunate enough to find himself beside the disciples of Brother Avelyn, whose miracle rescued the kingdom from the rosy plague.
That man is not ready, of course, but the emotions are high and favorable toward deceased Brother Avelyn."
"Ah yes, the wandering heretic who blew up a mountain and defeated the demon," Yakim Douan said with just a hint of sarcasm. ?Who raised his dead arm toward the heavens and invoked the miracle you speak of, bring-ing down the power of God to create a mystical cure for the plague that ravaged your land." The Chezru Chieftain resisted the temptation to point out that this supposedly God-cured plague should logically be considered a God-sent plague. And if that was the case, then why hadn't God visited this horror upon Behren and the heathen Yatols?
For mortal men, such questions could bring great distress, but for Yakim Douan, who had lived through the centuries and who planned on living for-ever more, such questions were the stuff of pure amusement.
Not now, the Chezru Chieftain silently told himself. Not here and with this man.
"How much of a threat does Abbot Olin perceive from