be

stiffened, but Tomanāk went on before he could interrupt.
"Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea. He needs some field experience, and you'll be able to use all the help you can get in the next few months. Besides—" the war god grinned at his champion's pained expression "—think how well he and your father will get along!"
"Now just one minute, there!" Bahzell began finally. "I'm thinking it's the outside of—"
"Oh, hush, Bahzell! Or are you saying the lad doesn't have the potential for it?"
"Well, as to that," Bahzell said with a glance at Vaijon which the younger man didn't fully understand, "I'll not say yes and I'll not say no. It's likely enough, when all's said, but—"
"Trust me, Bahzell," Tomanāk soothed. "It's an excellent idea, even if I do say so myself. And now that that's settled, I'll be going."
"But—" Bahzell began, and then closed his mouth with a snap as Tomanāk vanished as suddenly as he'd appeared. The Horse Stealer glowered at the space the god had occupied for several seconds, then growled something under his breath, unslung his shield, and sheathed his sword. He stood in the center of the salle, arms folded, and then glanced up as the profound and utter silence registered upon him.
Scores of eyes looked back at him, huge with awe. The knights and lay-brothers were still on their knees, even Yorhus and Adiskael, gazing raptly at him, and he twitched his shoulders uncomfortably.
Just like himself to be popping in and out like a cheap candle flame, .