10 The Coming ForthTHE LORD BAL-JARRAK frequently leaned over to peer out at the sky from under his canopy. Rain threatened, but Azhur reasoned the ritual really should have kept his attention. It had shocked the intellectually fastidious young novice that Bal-jarrak was, in fact, consoling himself over a perceived degradation of the ceremony. Instead of the customary splendour and great magnificence he was used to under the gilded roof of the Shrine, Bal-jarrak was under a threadbare blanket listening to an Assistant Loremaster reeling off the Two hundred and fourteenth Scroll to the peasants of Falakhoth.
Tyr sat on the stonework of the town’s well, listening to his friend. He had no time for Bal-jarrak. He had seen how his distinguished nose had wrinkled when its owner had recovered su
