"But, Dheb Rhal, did my friends and I not often tell you of ourselves, of the place from which we came? A world, a world like your own?"
The old man smiled. "Do not think me naive, Tyn-Dall. I am quite aware that you are but a man, a man from another world, although quite an incredible world it must be. I know also that you were, until this hour, unaware of your destiny. I knew that when my priest reported that you ignored the Ritual Of The Time, until literally forced to obey. That is why we had to use ... devious means to make certain that your companions would not prevent the fulfillment of the prophesy. Now, of course, you understand.
"I do not think the priestess Lhyreesa will make you unhappy, Tyn-Dall."
This was not Earth and these people were not Earthmen. The thought now did not bring the bitter pain it had at first, right after the ship left. Earth already was becoming hazy in Tyndall's mind, a lovely globe of green somewhere ... somewhere far, and home once, a long time ago.
No, the Arrillians were not Earthmen, but they were human, and an attractive, gracious race. Life would not be bad, among the Arrillians, especially as the espoused of the ranking priestess of Arrill. Tyndall fingered the rich material of his Arrillian robe; he thought of the food, the wine, the servants. No, he decided, not bad at all. One thing, though—this priestess Lhyreesa ...
"I have, then, but one request to make, Dheb Rhal, I would like to see the priestess Lhyreesa."
The old man almost chuckled, "That is understandable, Tyn-Dall, but it is not yet The Time."
Tyndall, reveling in the strength of his position, grew bolder. "I would like very much, Dheb Rhal, to see her now."
The Rhal's face darkened. "Very well, Tyn-Dall, but I warn you, do not enter the Grove. There is death there, death that even I am powerless to prevent. The Guardians will not harm her, but any stranger ... will not live many minutes in the Grove."