Chapter XX

“Hear, o faithful, the words I speak,

the God of Erets watches o'er the weak.

His sword and shield protect us all,

and his angels catch us when e'er we fall.”

Each time they came back around to the chorus of that hymn Galia glanced over at Ardal, who sat in the third row. He sang along with the rest of the people in the temple, or at least he appeared to be. It occurred to her that he might just be moving his lips but not actually saying the words. Still, even if it was just an act, she had to admire him in that moment, how happy he looked. Maybe in time he'd begin to believe the words he sang. She could hope.

On the third time around to the chorus Ardal looked up and saw that Galia watched him from her spot by the altar, and he winked at her. What did that wink mean? Galia turned red as a plethora of possibilities came to mind, and when she realized that her blushing face was visible to every member of the congregation she became even more embarrassed, more flustered. Ardal smirked at the reaction he'd gotten from her with so simple a gesture.

If Galia had to pinpoint a specific reason why these feelings for Ardal were stirring inside of her it would have to be his openness. He had every reason to hide everything from her, pretend to be swept away in her religious ideology. He could pretend to be either a pathetic, crying victim or a strong, unfeeling man's man who just needed a little help. He was real with her, honest, and it was refreshing.

But this also presented a problem. Priestesses were not forbidden to marry, not like in some of the sects of the West, but the clergy had very specifically detailed that they could only marry priests, paladins, or monks. They made some allowances for priestesses who wanted to marry other priestesses or nuns, but the point was that not only were they required to marry within the faith, they were required to marry within the Church, within the clergy. That made her growing feelings for Ardal dangerous, to say the least, just begging for heart-break, or worse. Even if he did convert the Church was unlikely to ever ordain him as a priest or accept him as a monk, and he was certainly too old to train as a paladin. There was no happy ending in pursuing a romance with Ardal, only a future of forbidden love. Love? It was too soon to call it love, but if she pursued these feelings there was a chance that would change.

As he sat in the third row, Ardal noticed a man in expensive clothes, flanked by bodyguards, in the first row. He had short blonde hair, a curled mustache, and a narrow chin. This must have been Sir Gilad. He was younger than Ardal had expected, but he was certainly the ruler of the city. For a moment, Ardal considered throwing caution to the wind, summoning Kamwi and two or three other demons to attack Sir Gilad on the spot, but he knew he'd be cut down. If the bodyguards didn't get him then the witch-hunters, the inquisitors, or Sir Kedem, whose eye was always on him, certainly would. In any case, he found himself suddenly happy that Galia had talked him into her in her little scheme to make him look like a loyal Agalmite. Attending these religious services would tell him what he needed to know about the higher ups in this town.

Once the songs were done it was time for the message, which Galia was delivered. Before she began she knelt in front of the statue of God and said a quiet prayer under her breath. Ardal didn't care to listen to what she had to say, he took the time to memorize every detail he could about Sir Gilad and his bodyguards; how many of them there were, how strong they looked, and how observant they were. Obviously they couldn't have been terribly observant if they didn't notice him staring like he was, so there was that possible advantage.

Sir Kedem, however, was likely going to be a problem. Out of the corner of his eye Ardal could see that Sir Kedem had noticed what Ardal was watching, and might have even guessed the reason why. Ardal wasn't sure how to deal with Sir Kedem, though. Not only was he likely the most formidable opponent in the city, but he was also, in all honesty, an honorable person, in spite of his faith. In the end, he was just looking out for Galia's interests, Ardal could hardly fault him for that.

Come to think of it, what was the relationship between Sir Kedem and Galia? They seemed to get along a little too well to just be friends. Galia had no ring on her index finger, which meant that she was not married, and Sir Kedem seemed too old to be her lover. Then again, here Ardal was, likely around fifteen years older than Galia, and he found himself interested in her, why would it be such a stretch to imagine that she'd be with someone just a few years older than himself?

Before he knew it, the sermon was over, and the congregation finished with closing litturgy. Galia was heading straight for Ardal, but another got to him first.

“You must be the brave pilgrim I've heard so much about,” said Sir Gilad as he turned to face Ardal. “It's true, the Gavish has gotten pretty bad.”

“It has,” said Ardal. “But thanks to Mother Galia here I'll be well again soon enough.”

Just then Galia joined him. She positioned herself so that she stood between Ardal and Sir Gilad, but not so much so that it was obvious. “He's been a great guest to have. The children love him, and he brightens my day.”

“Brightens my day?” Ardal wondered if she really meant that. She did always greet him with a smile each morning, but maybe she was just friendly. Sure, she'd blushed when he winked at her, but she could just be prude. It would make sense for a priestess. “It's not hard to get children to love you, just talk to them like you would anyone else. They know when they're being talked down to.” This he found to be true, in his experience, for all but the smallest of children, one more reason why he despised little children but so enjoyed them after they turned nine.

“Fascinating,” Sir Gilad said. It was clearly just something said to be polite. A poor attempt, considering how well his tone portrayed that he really didn't care. “But a hero of your caliber, one who survived the wilds of Shadia, endured persecution at the hands of those barbarians, you'd be a welcome guest at my table.”

“Really?” asked Ardal.

“Certainly,” Sir Gilad said. “In fact, I'm holding a dinner tonight for a select few heroic people, why don't you come along, regale us with your tale?”

To speak in such a friendly and refined manner when he was nothing more than a brutal savage, a bully. Ardal found he hated this man more than ever, but being invited to his home for a dinner party was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. He was sure to get at least one chance to kill Sir Gilad, and if not he'd surely gain enough knowledge about his castle to give his people an advantage when they attacked.

“That sounds like a great idea, I'd love to come,” Ardal said. Galia turned and gave Ardal a worried look. “Would you mind if I invited Mother Galia along as well? You call me a hero, but she has saved my life, and every day works to save peoples' souls. Surely she's worthy of sitting at your table as well.”

Sir Gilad nodded, “You may come as well, Mother Galia. He makes a fair point.”

Mother Galia smiled at Sir Gilad, shot Ardal a deadly look, and then turned back to Sir Gilad and said, “Certainly, I'd be honored to be a guest in your home, sir.”

“Good. I will make sure the servants accommodate the two of you as well. Dinner is at six, please be on time.” Sir Gilad nodded to both of them and left with his bodyguards.

“I need to speak to you privately,” Galia said to Ardal.

The two of them reconvened in Galia's room again. Once the door was closed Galia said, “You accepted Sir Gilad's offer? Why would you do something like that? Don't you know what he's been doing around here?”

“I thought that if I refused he'd get suspicious,” Ardal said. “Not many commoners would turn down an offer to be a guest at a knight's table, especially when that knight rules the city.”

“You could have come up with any number of excuses to turn him down! Now tonight you'll be asked all sorts of questions about your pilgrimage; about the missionary you traveled with, about where in Shadia you were going, about the customs of the barbarian people...do you honestly think you'll be able to convincingly answer all of those questions?”

“When the questions get too difficult I'll just act as if the memories are too painful to speak of,” said Ardal. “You told them everyone in the missionary's group was slaughtered, I'd say that's traumatizing enough.”

Galia didn't like it, but she was already sick of the argument. He was stubborn, clearly too stubborn for her to persuade him that he was doing something foolish. A small part of her wanted to just say, “Fine! Go ahead and make a fool of yourself, die doing something stupid!” but she truly didn't want him to die. It became obvious to her that in order to keep him alive she'd have to go along on this dinner, do the best she could to help him. If he was caught in a lie, however, he wouldn't be the only one punished for lying to Sir Gilad and the inquisitors.

Once Ardal had returned to his room, he began thinking about all of the ways in which things had just gone perfectly well. His Gavish was most of the way healed, Galia had already bailed him out of trouble when he thought for sure the inquisitors were going to take him, and now he was even being invited into Sir Gilad's home. What had previously seemed like an impossible task; that of getting healed and then killing Sir Gilad for all that he'd done, was all but already complete. Ardal couldn't help but marvel at that.

“All's going according to plan.” Ardal jumped at the sound of the voice at first, but then recognized it as the voice of Elykos, a voice just in his head. “Are you not at all worried about how this dinner will go?”

“No,” Ardal whispered.

“Good. I will feed you the right words to say when Sir Gilad questions you. You are doing well. It will not be long now before the balance of power shifts in Nihilus and I rule the land as my father did. When that day comes I will remember my friends, Ardal.”

Ardal almost responded, “You'd better,” but he quickly decided against it. Sure, he was the one putting his life on the line for Elykos' rise to power, but Elykos had already made the impossible possible. Ardal felt he needed to remember his place.

“I know the thoughts of your heart, Ardal. I know what you're feeling, and I understand.”

“I'm sorry my heart is so fickle.”

“Being able to dwell in the minds of others has taught me that there are no hearts which are NOT fickle. Your heart is more loyal to our cause than many of my servants'. Even more loyal than Caiaphas'.”

“Is that why you let him die?” Ardal asked before thinking. Not that thinking about it first and then deciding not to ask would have mattered, apparently.

“No. What you are doing in the city of Bogeid is a small part of what I have followers all over Nihilus, and even in Arx and in the West doing. I let Caiaphas die because he needed to die for many of them to have the motivation they needed to do what was right. Caiaphas knew his time was short when the inquisitors caught him, that he was to be a martyr, and that his death would help bring new life to our people. He accepted that, agreed to it.”

“How could I possibly be more loyal than a willing martyr? I don't have that kind of courage!”

“He didn't face the sort of temptation that you are facing now. I'm sure you've realized already how much easier your life would be if you simply converted to the Agalmite religion, accepted your role as a hero of their faith, maybe even became a monk, and married that beautiful priestess? You could live happily ever after. Why don't you?”

“Because I wouldn't be happy. I'd never be happy betraying our people, or our faith, or the daemons.”

“And that makes you far more loyal than Caiaphas ever was. Twice he almost left my service to pursue a beautiful woman, and once for a handsome man. But don't worry, once I have control over Nihilus again you will be given your just reward, and that priestess can still be yours.”

The way Elykos spoke of Galia was as if she was some sort of prize, just one more treasure amidst the other riches that Ardal could win through hard work. Ardal didn't like the phrasing, but he had to admit there was a certain appeal to the sound of getting to both serve justice and “get the girl,” as the saying went.

“One thing at a time. First I have to get through this dinner party.”

Galia and Ardal were both searched at the front doors of Sir Gilad's keep, with anything that could even be used as a weapon removed from their person. They even took Ardal's leather belt and replaced it with a cloth one, one more likely to rip should he attempt to strangle anyone with it. Ardal did all he could to contain his laughter at the very idea that he would strangle Sir Gilad. Ardal was not weak, but he only had one useful hand at the moment, and Sir Gilad, being a knight, was far stronger than he.

Sir Gilad and his other guests awaited them at the dining table. With a quick glance around the room Ardal recognized one of the guests as an inquisitor, several others as knights, and one rich merchant. The meal on the table appeared to be some sort of meat, as well as boiled cabbage and fried mushrooms.

“My friends, join us,” Sir Gilad said and gestured to the empty seats at the table.

Galia bowed and poked Ardal with her elbow, which prompted Ardal to bow as well before he took his seat. Ardal picked up his fork, ready to eat, but then heard Elykos' voice say to him, “They say the blessings over the food before the meal, not after as we do,” at which point Ardal held the fork up to the light, looking over the craftsmanship, as if that were the real reason he'd reached for it.

Ardal jumped in on the prayer, Elykos fed him every word, and Ardal spoke along with the others as if he'd recited these words every day his whole life.

“Thank you Lord, our God,

creator of all Erets,

who has given us to eat

the beasts of the wilderness,

the beasts of our fields,

bread that comes from the ground,

birds that fly in the sky,

fish that swim in the sea,

and fruit that grows on the tree.

We pray that we may never go hungry,

and thank you for feeding us.

Blessed are you, God,

whose words and hands stop chaos.

Blessed are you, God,

who stretched the Firmament over the sky.

May we never forget all that you have done for us

and that you continue to do for us.

So may it be.”

Both Galia and the inquisitor watched Ardal during each and every line of the prayer, noting that he had not missed a single line, a single word. Galia couldn't help but wonder where Ardal had learned the words and rhythm of the blessing, it wasn't something she'd thought to teach him before the meal.

“Begin,” Sir Gilad said, cutting a piece of the meat and spooning it into his mouth.

Ardal ate, chewing slowly. The more often he had food in his mouth the less likely he was to have to answer questions. Even as Elykos fed him answers he wasn't entirely confident that he wouldn't say something foolish if he spoke too much. The flavor of the meat, though, was odd to him. The meat was very tough, coarse, gamey, and there was an excess of fat.

Galia saw the confused look on Ardal's face just before she took a bite herself and realized what it was that made him wonder what he was eating. “What animal is this from?” she asked.

“Bear,” Sir Gilad said. “Killed it myself this morning. She'd been mauling some of the wood-cutters we sent out, so I rode in and lopped her head off. Then I thought 'waste not want not.'” He smiled at both of them, proud to say he'd slaughtered a bear.

Ardal cringed as he swallowed the meat in his mouth. It was a tenet of the Nihilite faith that one was not to eat any animal which had eaten human flesh, for that was, indirectly, considered a form of cannibalism. Even more importantly, it was discouraged that any Nihilite should eat any animal which resembled his Familiar, as Familiars often felt some level of kinship with animals similar to them. Ardal silently apologized to Kamwi for what he did, but he realized that refusal to eat the meal would come off as suspicious. Sir Gilad may very well have chosen this particular meal as a means of testing Ardal's true loyalties, certainly the inquisitor watched Ardal as he ate.

“So, dear pilgrim,” said the inquisitor, after he'd swallowed a large gulp of bear meat, “Who was the missionary you traveled with?”

Parroting the answers Elykos gave him, Ardal spoke, “Her name was Chava, brother. Her plan was to go to Shadia with several pilgrims and build a temple there, where she could teach the truth to those savages. The spot she'd chosen for this was particularly harsh, not far from cliffs overlooking the Sea of Ice, that was why no temple had been built there before.”

“You went to one of the harshest, coldest places in an already harsh land full of violent barbarians? And you didn't think this was a fool's errand?” the inquisitor asked.

“Can anything done in the service of God be considered a fool's errand?” Ardal asked.

“You got him there,” said Sir Gilad, smiling at Ardal.

“How far did you get in the construction of this temple?” the inquisitor asked.

“We had just begun construction of the inner sanctum, where the statue of our God was to be held, when the barbarians attacked. Chava tried to talk them down, but they...” Ardal's eyes started getting misty, as if he were reliving some horrible moment from his past. Even he was surprised how easily the tears came to him. “They cut her in half with those big axes...they slaughtered the pilgrims, slit their throats...oh, the screaming! The blood! I...I don't even remember running away, I just remember waking up in the wilderness some time later, with blood running up my arms. After washing that blood off in a freezing cold stream I discovered that I'd caught the Gavish and began to panic...”

“And God guided him here,” said Galia. “God made sure he did not get lost.” She was surprised at how well Ardal was doing, but she still felt the need to jump in occasionally to help him along. All it took was one little slip-up, just one, and the inquisitors would be after him. Sure, as a member of the clergy she technically had more authority in Bogeid than they did, but they would likely send their witch-hunters in the middle of the night to take him, or worse, report to the local bishop that she was harboring a warlock. Then her loyalty would be under question, she'd be cast out of the Church, and the children she'd been taking care of would be in the hands of the Inquisition, trained to torture and kill in the name of “holiness.”

“Could you hear our Lord's voice?” the inquisitor asked.

“No. Of course not,” Ardal said, giving the inquisitor an incredulous look. “I'm no prophet. But it's undeniable that he was guiding me. With a sky covered in clouds, no compass, no map, no means of telling north from south, and not even knowing where I was...how else could I have made it home without getting lost? And without freezing to death on the way?”

“A true hero,” Sir Gilad said. “That's what you are, sirrah, a true hero. Don't worry, once we've beaten these Nihilites into permanent submission we'll move on to Shadia next, bring justice to those who killed your friends.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ardal all but gagged as he said the words. For the moment, nothing disgusted him more than the thought that a man that he utterly despised thought positively of him, and hearing that this man was going to “beat the Nihilites into submission” just made it worse.

As soon as the servants had taken away the plates, Sir Gilad turned to Ardal, “You said you were helping build a temple, which means you have some experience in construction work. That being said, I've been gathering together some laborers to rebuild a part of the western wall of the city which has fallen into disrepair. Once our priestess here has finished healing you of the Gavish would you like a job doing that? The least I can do for a hero of your caliber is offer him a job.”

“I would love a job,” said Ardal. “Thank you, you are too kind, sir.”

. . .

After they'd returned to the temple, Galia walked Ardal to his guestroom and said, once they were in private, “You really surprised me. I had no idea you knew our prayers and customs so well.”

He needed an excuse to know them. Obviously he couldn't tell her that Elykos fed him every word he spoke throughout the dinner party. “I've been reading in your library whenever I'm not with you. I learned the prayers that way.”

“And you spoke them with such conviction...that's not easy to fake...”

“It wasn't fake,” Ardal said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...in reading all that I read in your library, in listening to your sermon today, and in actually learning about your faith, rather than simply looking at it the way I'd been taught to when I was a child...I've had a change of heart. I want to serve your God, Galia. He's created a beautiful world, full of all sorts of beautiful things.” Ardal took her fingers in his good hand and kissed the back of her knuckles, making her blush. “Certainly he can't be as bad as I thought if he created you.”