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uncertain. Occasional setbacks are inevitable and sometimes owed to circumstance.” She looked meaningfully at Elyril. “Repeated setbacks, however, are more often owed to incompetence. Keep that in mind, niece, on your travels to Yhaunn.”
    Elyril took her meaning but said nothing. She imagined how her aunt would scream when the Shadowstorm came and she died in darkness.
    “Something amuses you?” Mirabeta asked.
    Elyril shook her head. “No, aunt. I am merely enjoying the sunshine.”
    ŚŠŚ ŚŠŚ
    Abelar and Regg reached the abbey as the Dawnmeet finished. One solemn ring of the chapel’s ceremonial gong carried over the walls and denoted the end of the service. The faithful would be dispersing to their duties even as the guards alerted the Abbot to the presence of visitors.
    The gatehouse guards, armed with broadswords, wore
    yellow tabards over their breastplates and mail. They exited the gatehouse to stand before the immense double doors set into the abbey’s walls. They eyed Abelar and Regg coolly. Four crossbowmen atop the wall leveled their weapons at Abelar and Regg-
    “What is this?” Regg asked, eyeing a crossbowman. “Do we look as if we intend to storm the walls? You see the rose on our shields.”
    “We see it,” one of the crossbowmen said darkly.
    Abelar recognized the two guards standing before the doors. “Beld, Dak, come now. None of this is necessary. I return as your brother in faith.”
    Beld’s young face reddened behind his thin beard. “You were not to return at all, Abelar.”
    Abelar swung down from Swiftdawn and stepped before Beld. He stood half a head taller than the young warrior. “True, Beld. But unexpected events have transpired. I must have word with the Abbot.”
    “He is at service—”
    “Dawnmeet is finished,” Abelar said softly. “The Abbot will retire to the chapel for private contemplation. I have not been away so long as to have forgotten that. He will see me, Beld. Tell him that I am here.”
    Beld looked at Dak, at Abelar. He sighed, nodded, and said to Dak, “Inform the Abbot that Abelar Corrinthal has returned and wishes an audience.”
    Dak eyed Abelar, Regg, and Beld, and hurried off.
    “That is more like it,” Regg said, and swung off his horse. He called up to the crossbowmen on the walls. “And take care to point those tips at the stone, you bastards.”
    The crossbowmen grumbled but lowered their weapons.
    “It is good to see you again,” Beld said to Abelar. “The light is still in you.”
    Abelar smiled. “It is.”
    Beld said, “I wish you would simply agree with the Abbot.”
    Abelar put a hand on Beld’s shoulder. “Faith does not work so, Beld. You know that. We each must follow our own conscience. I must do what I must do. So must the Abbott. So must you. Remember that. And remember, too, that we are not so far apart, the Abbot and I. We both worship the Morninglord.”
    Beld looked doubtful but nodded.
    Presently the crank in the gatehouse started to clink and the double doors in the abbey s wall creaked open. A balding, overweight priest in red and yellow robes awaited them within.
    “Dawnbringer Asran,” Abelar said, and inclined his head. “Light shine on you.”
    “And on you, Abelar Corrinthal.” Asran nodded past Abelar at the dawn. “The risen sun is beautiful, is it not?”
    Abelar caught the double meaning. “Its light feeds the rose,” he answered, and turned to Beld. “You will see to our horses?”
    “Aye,” said the young man. “That, I will.”
    “I suspect we will not be long,” Regg said under his breath.
    Abelar and Regg turned over their reins to Beld. Abelar took the opportunity to put his back to Asran and speak softly to Regg. Beld did them the courtesy of pretending not to hear the exchange.
    “Keep your peace with Asran, and with the Abbot when we see him. No hot words.”
    Regg looked both aggrieved and amused. “Perhaps you would prefer that I await you in the courtyard?”
    Abelar shook his