of moonless nights. This was the home of the
crimson priests, and the center of guidance for all who wished to sail
eastward.

Musa stood for some time, admiring the temple, then walked between the
carefully clipped hedges and up the long line of steps leading to the
arched entrance.

Again, he stopped. Overhead, the curved ceiling of the main dome was
lower than its outer dimensions would lead one to believe, but Musa
hardly noticed that. He gazed about the main rotunda.

It was predominantly blue. The dome was a smooth, blue sky, and the
smooth blueness continued down the walls. The white stone steps were
terminated at the edges of a mosaic sea, which stretched to the far
walls, broken only by a large statue of the sea god. Kondaro stood in
the center of his temple, facing the entrance. One arm stretched out,
the hand holding a torch, while the other arm cradled one of the great
ships favored by the god. Beneath one foot was one of the batlike sea
demons, its face mirroring ultimate despair. About the feet lapped
conventionally sculptured waves, which melted into the mosaic, to be
continued to the walls by the pattern of the tiles. At the far side of
the rotunda, the double stairs, which led to bronze doors, were almost
inconspicuous, seeming to be a vaguely appearing mirage on the horizon
of a limitless sea.

The trader looked at the far side, then down, and hesitated, feeling as
though he were about to walk on water. Then, he turned, remembering the
pedestal nearby. A crimson bowl rested on this stand, and beside it was
a slave in the crimson loincloth which marked the menials of Kondaro.

Musa stepped over to the pedestal, dropped a coin into the bowl, and
walked toward the rear of the temple, making proper obeisance to the
huge statue. A young priest approached him.

"I crave blessings for a voyage I propose to take," announced the
trader.

The priest inclined his head.

"Very well, Traveler, follow me."

He led the way to a small office. An older priest sat at a large table,
reading a tablet. Conveniently placed were writing materials, and on the
table before him was another votive bowl. Musa dropped a coin into the
bowl, and the priest looked up.

"I bring a voyager, O, Wise One," said the young priest.

"It is well," the older priest acknowledged in a deep voice. He turned
to Musa. "Your name, Voyager?"

Musa gave his name, his age, the amount of his goods, and an account of
his actions since h