II
There was wind on his face, and the air was bitterly cold. Telis stirred. His harness covered him only slightly, and his bare limbs and naked chest stung under the lash of the icy night air. From somewhere, muffled by the roaring of the wind, Telis could hear the familiar beat of a multiple-pulse jet engine. Under his questing hands lay the caulked deck of an air-sled, and he realized that the aircraft was under way and that he was lashed to rings in the afterdeck.
With a shuddering sigh, he forced himself to relax. Since his abductors so obviously had the better of him at the moment, there was little he could do other than watch and wait.
For what seemed to be several hours, he lay quiet and watched the endless procession of the stars overhead. Finally, as the last effects of the stun-gun's bolt wore off, he lifted his head to get a look at his captors.
In the greenish glow of phosphorescent light that emanated from the instruments on the sled's panel, he could see two figures seated at the controls. The dim light gleamed for a moment on an insigne—the Sword and Atom. He had not been mistaken back there in the courtyard. He was in the hands of the Temple.
The nearer man glanced in his direction and, seeing that he had awakened, leaned forward to speak. There was no surprise in Telis as he recognized him. Only a hot anger. For the man was his friend Gorla.
"Telis! Are you all right?" Gorla had to shout to make himself heard over the rush of the wind.
Telis felt his anger increase. Here was Gorla, who had had him attacked, stunned, and finally kidnapped. And now, it seemed, he was concerned over the state of his health and general condition! It did not matter that Brand would within hours be convincing the gentlemen of the Maldia that Telis of Lars was a faint-hearted coward who disappeared in the eleventh hour before the attack on the aliens' camp! What mattered to Gorla was simply: "Telis, are you all right!"
Getting nothing but a scowl from Telis, the young Priest sat back, a half smile on his round, pleasant face. He could well imagine what Telis' thoughts were about now. Hurt pride and mortified anger were apparent in every line of the Lord of Lars' tense body.