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head.
    Brynd stood up suddenly. He could perceive movement nearby.
    'What's wrong with you?' Apium said. 'Touched a nerve, have I?'
    Brynd gestured for him to silence.
    The red-haired man pushed himself upright to follow Brynd's gaze. 'Can't see anything.'
    Brynd stepped to the right, his eyes wide, alert. Within seconds he knew Apium had lost him, could see the man's gormless face lit up by the moon, even at a distance. How Apium had managed to stay alive in the Night Guard was beyond Brynd. Perhaps he worshipped some outlawed god who knew something no one else did. The injections this elite group received on their induction should have worn off over the years due to Apium's excessive drinking.
    Brynd took several slow steps over to where he had seen the foliage move. He reached carefully for his sabre. Behind a sapling, he saw him. A man, naked, covered in mud. Brynd frowned, then reached for a stone from the ground. He threw it, the stone connected, but the man didn't move, didn't even flinch. Brynd repeated the action. Still no movement. He whistled back to Apium.
    After a few seconds, his companion shambled through the forest to his side. 'What's up?'
    'There's a man over there.' Brynd indicated the figure. 'He's naked.'
    'Naked?'
    'I said naked.'
    'You're right,' Apium said. 'What's he doing way out here with nothing on? Bit of outdoors action, eh?'
    'How the hell should I know?' Brynd said. Little harm could come from investigating this, surely? There was no sign of anyone else around, and he was sure they were alone. 'Let's get closer.' Brynd led the way towards the naked man, who had remained still for some time. If he was aware of their approach, he didn't show it.
    'The Sele of Jamur to you, sir,' Brynd said, thinking the traditional Jamur greeting would prompt some response. Nothing. He looked the man up and down. 'You, er . . . you must be cold.'
    Apium snorted a laugh.
    The man still didn't move, just stared vacantly ahead. They stepped cautiously to within an armspan of him, noticing his face lacked blood as if totally drained of it. His eyes were slightly slanted, and they gazed directly past Brynd. There were strange wounds around his neck, then Brynd noticed that his head was shaven unevenly, so that tufts of black hair blossomed on it in patches.
    'Looks dead, doesn't he?' Apium remarked.
    Brynd reached out, prodded the man in the chest. Still no reaction. The commander took a bold step forward and reached out to feel his wrist. 'Well, I'll swear by Bohr, he is.'
    'What?' Apium gasped. 'Dead?'
    'Yes. There's no sign of pulse.' He let go of his wrist, and the man's arm slumped back to his side.
    'This is cultist work, Brynd,' Apium warned, reaching for Brynd's shoulder with fear in his eyes. 'Nothing natural here. I don't like it. I've no idea what they've done to him, but we should send this fellow on his way and stay with Fyir. In fact, I think we ought to move off a little.'
    Although stunned, Brynd didn't know what to make of it. A hardened soldier, he was used to seeing the worst of life, but this individual out here spoke of technologies he was unaware of. What options did he have? If they killed this man, there might be more in waiting. Should he provoke it? In their depleted state, Brynd considered it best to leave things be and report it back in Villjamur. 'I think you're right. This can wait. I'll maybe put it in a report.'
    They carried Fyir gently to the ruins of an Azimuth temple.
    Little was known about that civilization, and hardly anything was left there aside from hidden and subtle masonry. One of the towers had fallen so that it rested flat against a hillside, just beyond Daluk Point, the lower side now wedged firmly into the slope. Lichen and mosses suffocated much of it, but there were still discernible patterns, squares within squares, that were known to be traditional religious symbols. It was thought that the Azimuth had worshipped numerology and mathematical precision, a sentiment he