He trussed the sarif swiftly with his own filthy brown cape, stuffing a generous handful into the gaping mouth, before he crossed to the fire and squatted in the guard's place.
Ylda came to her feet, hand to her mouth.
"Hardan!" She came toward him jerkily, the chain making her take mincing, careful steps.
"Sit down," he told her. "And warn your friends to keep their places." The priest and the priestess smiled quietly.
"Fear nothing from us," they told him. "Our calling is to heal the bodies and minds of the sick. It was for that mighty Ung Roth Ka came from the greater of the four moons to dwell among men. We care nothing for the quarrels and jealousies of men."
"Though," added the priestess, "as a woman and not a servant of Zo Aldan Ra, I hope you escape safely."
The priest nodded, his eyes twinkling. "We are yet only human. Though we will not use violence yet we can give advice and appeal to our mighty master in your behalf."
Hardan bowed, his hand making the respectful sign of a believer on the great god of healing. "I will bind you before we leave," he said, "unless you will come with us."
The priest shook his head. "There are many sick and fearful in the train," he said, "we remain to aid them."
Hardan turned to Ylda. "After I break your chain slip beneath the wagon and through the grass to the river. I will follow."