"Your Majesty," I said, "I am a member of the Priests' Clan
and was brought up in their tenets. I have been taught, before
entering a house, to thank the Gods, and more especially our Lord
the Sun, for the good air that He and They have provided. It has
been my fate more than once to be chased by streams of fire and
stinking air amongst the mountains during one of their sudden
boils, and so I can say the prescribed prayer upon this matter
straight from my heart."

"Circumstances have changed since you left Atlantis," said
Phorenice, "and when thanks are given now, they are not thrown at
those old Gods."

I saw her meaning, and almost started at the impiety of it.
If this was to be the new rule of things, I would have no hand in
it. Fate might deal with me as it chose. To serve truly a
reigning monarch, that I was prepared for; but to palter with
sacrilege, and accept a swineherd's daughter as a God, who should
receive prayers and obeisances, revolted my manhood. So I invited
a crisis.

"Phorenice," I said, "I have been a priest from my childhood
up, revering the Gods, and growing intimate with their mysteries.
Till I find for myself that those old things are false, I must
stand by that allegiance, and if there is a cost for this
faithfulness I must pay it."

She looked at me with a slow smile. "You are a strong man,
Deucalion," she said.