The Superior inspected him kindly enough. "I have heard that two of our guardsmen were injured in taking young Telis. How are they now?"
"They suffered wounds, one critical," reported the escort. "Both will live, Reverend Superior."
The old man nodded. "It is well." Then he turned to Telis and he added: "How well you fight for your prejudices, my son!"
Telis remained stiffly erect and silent, his eyes hard on the unknown girl. For the moment all he could do was watch and wait for an opportunity to escape.
"You will be interested to know, My Lord of Lars," said the High Superior mildly, "that the scheduled attack on the Tellurian camp was not launched this morning...."
Telis relaxed slightly. Then there was still a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of his fellow nobles. Perhaps soon.
"... but you are no longer chieftain of that abominable organization, the Maldia, for which you should give thanks to the Goddess! At the moment your so-called friends are meeting to replace you with one Prince Brand," the High Superior continued. "They have declared at his instigation that you are a coward and a traitor. Those are the actions of your fine friends. What do you think of them?"
Telis felt a stirring of anger. "If what you say is true, Reverend Superior, I have the Temple and you to thank for my disgrace."
The High Superior looked reproachful. "Like the rest of your caste," he sighed wearily, "you are blind. I suppose it will be an impossibility to convince you that your Maldia is doing infinitely more harm than good with its senseless code of slaughter and more slaughter. That is all it will ever succeed in bringing to our suffering planet!"
Telis held his peace. There was nothing he could say to refute the High Superior that was not based on obedience to life-long prejudices, and he somehow felt that those arguments would be wasted on such a man as now sat before him.