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Siamak paused once outside the temple. It had been a disappointing visit. Well, not wholly. The information that Gjeelea, too, was talking to different people was interesting. But this was not what he had hoped to find. He had wanted advice from the High Priestess and found none save that he should remain loyal to Rhais and pray to her directly for counsel. A thought occurred to him. Surely, had the goddess disclosed Zamara with advice, she would have informed him. But why would the goddess not have imparted wisdom concerning an issue that would impact Pashtia so greatly? Surely the goddess would not abandon the people in their hour of need. And, if the High Priestess did not know, how was he to find out? Siamak was now certain that he and Gjeelea would have to decide this issue on their own, without divine intervention.
Siamak sighed impatiently. Morgôs had seen him leave, surely, and had said that they would meet outside. Fat raindrops began to fall from the sky. The General had also said that they would conduct the lesson outside, but Siamak saw little chance of that. He was grateful to the overhang covering the entrance to the temple; it kept him dry. So where was Morgôs? He had been kneeling when Siamak left, but Siamak had never thought the General was much for religion, and this thought was only solidified by some of the subtle hints in the General's manner of speaking. Not that religion was a major topic in their meetings, but deciphering small hints in people's words had been one thing which Siamak had picked up on quickly, and it surprised him that he had not figured it out before. Now that he understood, talking with the nobles was no longer a threatening ordeal.
Siamak moved closer to the doors, half tempted to go find out what was keeping the General. He did not think that he could actually go in, not after coming right out, and anyway, it might seem rude to be so impatient. No sooner had he edged closer to the door than he heard the sound of voices, muffled by the distance. One of them, Siamak recognized it as Morgôs', was quite loud, in fact. Siamak could not make out anything save the tone, and it was clear that the General was worked up about something. There was only one topic that Siamak had ever seen Morgôs get truly passionate about: Elves of long ago. He backed away from the door hastily, feeling slightly guilty for listening in, though he reasoned that it could not really be eavesdropping since he had not actually heard any words. His interest was piqued, however, especially since he supposed it must be the High Priestess he was speaking to since there was no one else in the temple. He would never actually inquire about it, but he was intrigued nonetheless. At any rate, he now knew the mood of the General and how best to act with him.
Siamak sighed again. Not too much longer, he hoped. Well, he didn't have anything that needed doing anyhow and leaned against a broad pillar to wait, watching the steady drip, drop of the rain.
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