Chapter XXV

“A letter for you, Mother Galia,” Sir Kedem said, handing her the sealed envelope that had just arrived. “It appears to be from Bishop Tahan.”

Galia excitedly took the letter and broke the wax seal. She'd been writing to Tahan for months, and was just finally hearing back from him. For a long time she'd been worried that perhaps he hadn't gotten her letters, that Sir Gilad's knights, or the inquisitors had intercepted them.

“Dear Mother Galia,

“I received your letters regarding the actions Sir Gilad has taken against the people of Bogeid. While we have not been there to directly judge these actions, we feel that it is time we gave you more power to judge these actions yourself. I have written to Arch-Bishop Livana, telling her of your work taking care of the orphans in Bogeid, as well as the many people who have sincerely converted to the Agalmite faith because of your kindness and wise teachings. Arch-Bishop Livana has agreed that you shall be made a bishop yourself, and be given the right to remove Sir Gilad from power. I will be arriving in person to initiate you as a bishop, and will be bringing a small contingent of paladins and geomancers to enforce your right to take control of the city. If even half of what you've told us about is true the injustice has gone on for too long.

“By my estimates I should be arriving the day after you receive this message. Do not worry about preparing guest quarters for me or my traveling companions, we will be staying at the inn so that you may continue to use the temple's guest rooms to house those whom Sir Gilad and the inquisitors have made orphans.

“Blessings Upon You,

“Bishop Tahan”

The Bishop had finally written back to her, and he was on his way to Bogeid to name her a bishop as well. Her mind flooded with ideas of all the good she could do, all the great things she could accomplish with that sort of power. Not only would she remove Sir Gilad from power, but she would start reforming the Church from within, make it more compassionate to outsiders and those of other faiths, even the Nihilites.

Sir Kedem could see the look of excitement on Galia's face, and in an instant he realized what was going on. A letter from a bishop that got her to smile so widely could only mean one thing. “You're to be a bishop?”

“Yes!” Galia beamed at him. “Bishop Tahan is coming here to bestow the title on me officially! He'll be here in a day! Oh, this is wonderful news!”

Sir Kedem's face turned serious, and he took Galia's shoulders in his hands, “Listen to me, girl. You must keep this quiet, do you understand? If Sir Gilad catches word that you are to become a bishop then he might decide to act against you before you have the power to depose him. He may resort to slander or even outright murder, yes, even of a priestess of the Church, in order to stay in power. This must stay quiet, do you understand.”

Galia had been so excited about the prospect of finally being able to do some real good that she hadn't realized just how dangerous this all was. She took the letter over to a lit candle on her desk, set it on fire, and then threw it into the empty fireplace. “You make a good point, Sir Kedem. No one must know of this.”

The two of them watched the paper burn, making sure it was absolutely ashes, unreadable even if someone were to unfold its curled remains.

Once the fear of Galia being discovered was out of the way Sir Kedem took a moment to truly take in the gravity of everything the letter implied. Galia had been like a daughter to him for the past several years, the only family he had any more. He had watched her grow up when she became a priestess, but now she was truly coming into her own, moving up in the world. She was succeeding, just as all fathers wished for their children. He was certain she'd be happy, except for one minor obstacle: Ardal.

Sir Kedem had seen the way Galia looked at Ardal, her old teacher, in awe of him as she was. He wanted to tell her that her affections for him were nothing more than the continuations of an old crush, that if she stopped and took a look at the real Ardal she'd likely realize there was nothing specific about him that she liked. Yet he watched her with him, day after day. He watched them laugh, talk, argue, and she almost always wore a smile on his face when she was around him. Her love for Ardal didn't make any sense, but since when did love ever make sense? Now that Ardal had claimed to convert to the Agalmite faith, Sir Kedem could tell that Galia hoped to settle down with him. As a priestess she was forbidden to marry anyone except another member of the clergy, whether he be a priest, monk, or paladin. It seemed like she was hoping Ardal's conversion was so complete that he would become a priest. Sir Kedem knew better, no one who had been so indoctrinated in the Nihilite faith would ever truly believe Agalmite dogma well enough to become a priest. He seriously doubted Ardal even truly believed in their God, he was likely still a demon-worshiper.

Sir Kedem went to find Ardal, to get rid of him. Were he not sworn to a strict moral code he might have killed Ardal, or threatened to kill him in order to keep Galia safe, just as any father would for his daughter. As it stood he had to come up with another means to get rid of what he perceived to be the greatest threat to Galia's happiness.

He found Ardal just as he was about to leave the temple's cellar, “Ardal!” he growled. He wanted to sound threatening to the former professor, even if he was not about to actually threaten him.

Ardal jumped at the sound of Sir Kedem's voice, obviously feeling guilty about something, or otherwise worried about being caught. “S-Sir Kedem!” Ardal said. “You startled me!”

“Your mind somewhere else at the moment?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, perhaps while your mind is wandering the rest of you wouldn't mind following the example.” Ardal heard a distinct jingle as Sir Kedem produced a leather bag of coins, took Ardal's newly-healed hand, and forced the bag into it. “Here. Take this. It's enough money to start a new life somewhere far away from here. I was saving it up to leave to Mother Galia when I pass on, but I have a feeling I can better purchase her happiness by giving it to you.”

Ardal looked at the bag full of coins. It was more money than he'd ever held at once before, judging by the sound and weight of it. “I don't understand, why would you give this to me?”

“Because I want you to leave town!” Sir Kedem said, gritting his teeth. “I want Mother Galia to be happy, she's the closest thing to family I have. You are the greatest threat to that happiness.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Don't play the fool with me, sirrah! I know your 'conversion' is false, and even if it's not Galia can only marry a member of the clergy, are you prepared to take priestly vows?”

“I...”

“And what if you were to be caught? All it takes is one inquisitor to catch you in a lie, catch you performing some Nihilite ritual, or not saying the right blessing, and they'll have you! They'll torture you until you confess and then burn you alive at a Show of Faith. I don't think poor Galia's heart could handle that! Please, Ardal...” This was the first time Ardal could remember the old paladin calling him by his name. “Please, leave Bogeid while there's still a chance.”

Ardal shoved the money bag back into Sir Kedem's hands. “No! I will not be told what to do, and I will not walk out on Galia! I love her!” It was the first time he had said the words, and even as he said them he was surprised that he had, but he knew they were true.

“Damn you!” Sir Kedem scowled at Ardal. “You damned fool! You know you two can't be together! Why would you still pursue her?”

“I'm not pursuing her, I just know I can't abandon her.”

Sir Kedem wanted to throw this fool up against the wall and beat some sense into his empty skull, but he was forced to restrain his anger. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth. “You'll break her heart! You bastard!”

“I'll never hurt her.”

“You might not be lying,” Sir Kedem said. “In fact, you probably think that's true, but I know better. I know you will break her heart, worse than it's ever been broken. If you truly love her, as you claim, you will leave Bogeid before tomorrow morning. I will leave the money behind the altar for you. Take it!”

Ardal simply stared at Sir Kedem, said nothing as the old paladin walked off to place the bag of coins behind the altar. Ardal did not budge, he would not let Sir Kedem, or anyone else tell him what to do. Anyone except Elykos, of course.

Ardal decided to take a stroll out to the Church's garden, out in the back, to admire the flowers and shrubs while they were still there. The orphan children ran through the garden, chasing each other, and sang the lewd song Ardal had taught them before. He sat down on the cobblestone path to enjoy the sunshine, the breeze, and the aroma coming from the flowers.

“You taught them that song, didn't you?” Galia asked as she came out and sat down beside him. She cleared off a spot on the cobblestone path so that it would not stain the back of her robe.

“Guilty,” Ardal said.

Galia laughed. “Can't say I really approve of it, but it's better than the song they were singing.”

“No children should ever become so used to oppression and persecution that they can sing about it like that. It's just...ugh!”

“I agree.”

Ardal looked over at Galia, admiring how the sunlight hit her hair, reflected in patterns of gold and copper. Her round cheeks were pushed up as she smiled, and her narrow chin was so cute Ardal almost felt like kissing it on the spot, in spite of the children nearby. They'd “eww!” and “ugh!” but then they'd grow up, and realize what a beautiful thing they'd witnessed.

Galia found herself equally tempted to kiss this man, with his black hair, his well-kept goatee, the bits of gray at his temples making him look so distinguished and important, and his overall rugged but intelligent look was almost too attractive for her to resist. Sure, he was several years older than her, but in a way that added to his appeal. With that age came a wisdom, an understanding that younger men simply did not have, not even men of the cloth. Once she was a bishop she'd need a new priest or priestess to take over direct control of the temple, and she'd convinced herself she could train Ardal to be such. A naturally gifted teacher as he was would make a great priest.

As the two of them sat together, the winds slowly picked up, whipping into a roar. The children shielded their eyes as dust and debris blew in their faces, and ran inside to shield themselves from the changing weather. Galia shivered and stood from the cobblestone path, and Ardal wrapped his coat around her shoulders.

“That won't be necessary,” Galia said. She removed the coat and handed it back to him, the cloth blowing in the strong winds. “I'm going inside. Thank you, though. You're sweet.”

In less than an hour Ardal was supposed to join the other construction workers on the wall, but if that wind kept up he wasn't sure exactly how much work they could get done. They'd be yelling at each other, shouting each and every order just for the chance of being heard above the noise of the gales.

It was then that Ardal looked up at the sky, in the direction that the wind came from. Dark clouds gathered in the distance, and the wind was likely to blow them right in. He could see the clouds trailing down towards the ground in the distance, like charcoal smeared across paper. The wind about to bring in rain.