9. The Real Fake Monk“Check point,” said Brother Ply with a nervous voice.
Sabienn realized they had travelled quite a way and were on the outskirts of Port Cord. The van turned a sharp corner and stumbled right on top of a makeshift police post. And ahead the Red Sun monastery was just visible on the hill.
Taking a view out the window, Sabienn saw ahead a group of Turr police standing in the road with their arms up, pointing to their vehicle but waving pleasantly. They were swaggering and dishevelled as if they were tanked on some alcoholic beverage. Oh no, thought Sabienn. This is the worst kind of check point. Drunk officials full of their own importance. They could be judge, jury and execution squad and no-one would care.
On the side of the road, there were two short ears kneeling,
