Chapter eleven
ApushniadApushniad!
That was a terrible word to a Krozair. Traitor, ingrate, leemshead, outlaw.
A man cast off from the order.
A man denied fellowship, a man despised by those who had once been his fellows.
And I, Dray Prescot, had been dubbed Apushniad!
I stood within the Hall of Judgment. The room was small, holding only a double hundred of Krozairs, ranked in their pews along the walls, the banners hanging in the lamplight above, a dusky, glittering mass of gold and scarlet. Small, that Hall of Judgment was, hewn from the living heart of the Rock of Zy. Small, because it was so seldom used. Once, long ago, I had witnessed the ritual trial and banishment of a Krozair Brother, accused of a crime no Krozair could own to and remain a member of the order. The ceremony ha
