Galena brought Rhys a bowl of stew. Patrick sat beside him as he ate, keeping him company. He refused to let Rhys talk business until he had finished his meal, explaining it was bad for the digestion.
Thinking what he had to say, Rhys agreed. Instead, he urged Patrick to tell his story.
“My wife and I were both mystics in the Citadel of Light. When the gods returned, the leaders of the Citadel agreed all mystics would be given a choice—we could serve the gods or we could remain mystics. Our founder, Goldmoon, was both, and the leaders believed this is what she would have wanted. My wife and I prayed for guidance and the White Lady came to each of us in a dream, asking us to follow her, so we did.
“We are originally from New Port. We knew there was great need here, and we decided to return to do what we could to help. We’re starting with the school for the children and a house of healing. A humble beginning, but at least it’s a beginning. None of the other gods have a presence in this city—except Zeboim, of course,” Patrick added with a sigh and a sidelong glance at Rhys.
He said nothing but continued eating.
“Zeboim’s temple was the last the people left after the gods vanished, and the first they came back to. In fact, there were some who didn’t leave at all. They kept bringing their gifts, year after year. ‘You never know with the Sea Witch’, they say in these parts. ‘She might be playing one of her little games. We don’t dare take a chance.’ ”
Rhys looked at Nightshade, happily sloshing paint around. A good deal of it was actually hitting the wall. Rhys reached down, stroked Atta’s head.
“Forgive me for asking, Brother,” Patrick said after a moment, “you are obviously a monk, but I am not familiar with your order—”
“I was a monk of Majere,” Rhys replied. “I am not anymore. That was excellent,” he told Galena, as she removed the bowl. “Thank you.”
Patrick seemed about to say something else, then changed his mind. Galena carried the dishes to the kitchen before returning to sit with her husband.
“What is it you need to discuss with us, Brother?” Patrick asked.
“The Beloved,” said Rhys.
Patrick’s expression darkened. “Nightshade told us that you have been tracking one of them and that it is here, in our city. This is bad news, Brother.”
“It gets worse. The Beloved has taken up with a young woman. I fear he means her harm. I tried to warn her, but she is a widow with two children and in desperate need. She thinks he will marry her and she refused to listen to my warnings. He is meeting her tonight. We must stop him.”
“Judging by the information on the Beloved we received from the Citadel, stopping him will not be easy,” said Galena, troubled.
“Yet we must do something,” Patrick said. “Do you have any ideas, Brother?”
“We could try to apprehend him. Lock him up in a prison cell. He will undoubtedly escape from jail,” Rhys admitted. “Locks and iron bars will not be much of a hindrance to him, but at least this young woman and her children will be safe. You can take them into your care, keep her away from him until he has left this city.”
“When will that be?”
“Lieu has booked passage on a ship out of New Port. He intends to leave tomorrow.”
“Then he will attack someone else.” Patrick frowned. “I don’t like letting him go.”
“I am trying to acquire passage on the same ship. I will continue to do what I can to prevent Lieu from harming anyone.”
“I still don’t like it,” said Patrick.
Galena rested her hand on his arm. “I know how you feel, but, husband, think of this poor young mother! We need to save her and her children.”
“Of course,” said Patrick immediately. “Our first care must be for her. Then we will decide what to do with the Beloved. Where is he now?”
“I left him in a bar. He will spend the day there, come out at night.”
“Wouldn’t it be better for us to apprehend him there?”
“I thought of that,” said Rhys. “But this young woman is the type of vulnerable person Chemosh seeks out. We can stop this Beloved, but what of the next one who finds her? She must be made to see the danger for herself.”
“Are there truly that many of these monsters around?” Galena asked, shocked.
“We have no way of knowing,” said Rhys. “But it is certain their numbers grow daily.”
Nightshade came over to join them, trailing paint spatters all along the floor.
“I saw ten yesterday,” he reported. “Down by the docks and up in the city.
“Ten!” Galena was horrified. “This is appalling.”
“Lieu is supposed to meet this young woman tonight at her house. We can capture him when he arrives.”
“Are you certain he is one of the Beloved?” Patrick asked, regarding Rhys intently. “Forgive me for questioning you, Brother, but our fear is the innocent may suffer along with the guilty.”
“Lieu is—or was—my brother,” Rhys replied. “He murdered our parents and the brethren of my Order. He tried to murder me.”
Patrick’s expression softened. He looked at Rhys as if much made sense to him now. “I am truly sorry, Brother. Where does this young woman live?”
“Not far,” said Rhys. He shook his head. “I can’t describe to you the exact location. Her dwelling is one of many on the street, and they all look alike. It will be easier for me to take you there. You should summon the city guard.”
“We will be ready, Brother.”
“I will return at nightfall,” said Rhys. Taking hold of his staff, he rose to his feet. “Thank you for the meal.”
“There is no need to leave, Brother. You should stay and rest. You look worn out.”
“I wish I could,” said Rhys, and he was in earnest. The peace of this quiet place was soothing balm to his tormented soul. “But I have to meet again with the ship’s captain, try once more to persuade him to take us on as passengers.”
“He thinks kender are unlucky,” said Nightshade cheerfully. “I told him I could make the voyage really interesting. I saw the souls of quite a few dead sailors roaming about the ship, and I told him they all wanted to talk to him. He didn’t seem to like to hear that, though. He got really mad, especially when I mentioned the mutiny and the fact he’d had them all strung up from the yardarms. I think they still have hard feelings.”
Rhys looked at Patrick and coughed. “I don’t suppose you could continue to keep the kender—”
“Of course. He’s been quite a help today.”
“He can whitewash the floor as well as the walls,” added Galena, with a glance at the trail of white spatters.
Rhys whistled to Atta, who left her bone with regret.
“I’ll keep it for her,” Galena offered. She picked up the bone and placed it on a shelf Atta kept her jealous gaze on it every inch of the way.
“Brother,” said Patrick, accompanying Rhys to the door, “you might think about enlisting the aid of Zeboim’s cleric. He’s a powerful force with these ships’ captains. They’d be willing to listen to him, and he’d be more than willing to listen to you.”
“A good idea, Revered Son,” Rhys said quietly. “Thank you.”
“We will keep you in our prayers, Brother,” Patrick added as Rhys and Atta took their leave.
“Pray for that young woman,” Rhys said. “Your prayers will be better spent.”
Patrick stood in the doorway watching Rhys walk off down the street. The monk’s staff thumped the cobblestones. The black and white dog padded along at his side.
Thoughtful, Patrick turned away.
“Where are you going, my dear?” Galena asked.
“To have a word with Mishakal,” he replied.
“About that young woman?”
“You and I can take care of her.” Patrick glanced back out the window to see Rhys and Atta vanish around the corner. “This problem is one only the goddess can handle.”