to the aisle and to the back of the church. Don't do anything funny, just move— now ."
The tone was unmistakable, and she did as instructed. She realized now that these were the very people she'd been warned about, but she hadn't expected anything this fast, and certainly not in church on Holy Day. The sheer casualness of the violence was also somehow beyond any evil she had previously imagined.
"All right, folks, just relax. That's all there is to it, except for some business. Now, my name's Coydt, to answer your late priestess's question, and I'm one of those terrible Seven she kept warning you about." There were gasps at this, and he grinned, obviously enjoying his power. "Now, you're probably wondering why I'm telling you that, but there's a good reason. You see, your Saint Kasdi out there in her temple fortress had a daughter, and while they went to great lengths to fake that baby's death, it was a lie. Your great Kasdi lies. Me, I tell the truth. That says something about the two of us. That girl we just took out the back is her grown-up daughter."
There were more gasps and murmurings at this. Many there had known Spirit since she was a baby.
"Check it out with her Mama—the real one or the one she was abandoned to 'cause it's tough to be a saint when saddled with a brat. Now you understand what's going on here, but don't be scared. If your scared tin saint got rid of her daughter once, well, she's not about to surrender the Church or give us Anchor Logh or anything like that. It is a kidnapping, though, and there's a price, so you hustle on in to the temple in the capital and tell 'em Coydt will be in touch when he feels like it, and that she won't be harmed so long as nobody tries to free her or hurts me or my agents in this business. Now, aside from all the folks you've seen, outside covering the exits are two others you never saw. If you stay here for one hour, you'll never see them or us. Anybody who goes out before the hour will be killed. It's that simple. So sit and relax here, and maybe discuss why the hell if your goddess is really up in the sky like that, she allows me to do shit like this down here. Bye now."
With that, Coydt walked briskly up the aisle and out the door, followed in professional order, front to back, by the others. The door slammed behind them.
For a moment, nobody moved, then several rushed forward, jumped the altar rail, and pulled the remains of the smashed altar off the bloody body of their priestess. There was little they could do, though; a caliber that big blew a huge hole going in but an even bigger one coming out her back, and she had most certainly died instantly.
Suddenly the place was bedlam, but nobody went immediately for the doors. This was the early service, but the Vice President of the Commune Council was there and, looking pretty shaken himself, he nonetheless tried to get some order and organization. His name was Miklos Ransom, and he was well aware that his career as a professional politician was at stake here.
"All right!" he thundered. "Settle down! First things first! Now, nobody go sticking their head out the door yet!" He looked around. "Anybody here from Spirit's immediate family?"
They all looked, but there was no one. Spirit had been having some problems sleeping the past few days and she'd been up and about long before the usual family gathering. They would not be in until next scheduled service in two hours—a rather unlikely event at this stage. She had come alone, mostly to think, and that, at least, had probably saved the lives of her foster family, who would not have let her go easily.
"O.K. Now, I've been thinking this out. There may be nobody out there, but I wouldn't bet anyone's life on it."
"I'll chance it," one burly farmer growled, and several more voiced assent. "If I can get help fast enough, we can watch those people swing by their necks!"
"No! There's a better way!" Ransom shouted back. "You—Zida! You're the bell ringer. Get back