“You will behave now, won’t you?” Kyre asked sweetly, pricking painfully at his throat with her dagger.
The mage’s shoulders slumped and his arms went limp. With a deep sense of shame, he realized he wasn’t prepared to give his life just to keep Moander from possessing his body and invading his mind again. He nodded his agreement to the half-elf.
5
The Young Priestesses
Zhara closed the door to the Red Room of the Old Skull Inn and motioned for Dragonbait to have a seat at the table. The paladin had agreed to join Akabar’s wife for lunch in the privacy of her room. The priestess of Tymora crossed the room and sat down opposite her guest.
After all that Akabar had told her about Dragonbait, Zhara felt the paladin was like a brother to her. Showing her face to a brother would not be immodest, she decided, pushing back the hood of her robe. She removed her veil and laid it on the table.
Dragonbait studied Zhara’s face curiously.
“You do not seem shocked or surprised,” the priestess said.
Dragonbait motioned with his hands.
“Yes, I can understand your sign language,” Zhara answered.
Dragonbait motioned with his hands that he could smell what Zhara was.
“Oh,” Zhara replied, remembering Akabar had also mentioned the paladin’s refined sense of smell.
Let’s eat, Dragonbait signed. Then we can talk.
Zhara nodded in agreement. She said a short prayer in Turmish in thanksgiving for the food laid out before them and began serving the meal. They ate in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. After the paladin had eaten his fill of the venison and potatoes and peas, all northern dishes that were strange to Zhara, the saurial leaned back in his chair and signed that he was full.
The priestess shook her head at the saurial’s plate “You haven’t eaten very much,” she said. “I thought warriors all had ravenous appetites.”
With his fingers, the paladin explained that saurials preferred many small meals to a few large ones.
“Akabar said saurial paladins have something called shen sight—that you can see into a person’s soul. Is that true?” Zhara asked.
Dragonbait nodded.
“I want you to look into my soul,” Zhara said. “Tell me, am I not a virtuous woman?”
Dragonbait lowered his eyes, and the scent of vanilla wafted from him. Fortunately, Zhara didn’t realize it was a sign that he was amused by the priestess’s self-righteousness. Despite his amusement, the saurial paladin complied with her request and summoned his shen. He saw in Zhara exactly what he had expected to see—a soul of pure blue, which indicated grace, the state of being sanctified and loved by her goddess. He also sensed that the priestess’s spirit was strong and arrogant. She was not so very different from Alias.
Do you have reason to doubt your virtue? Dragonbait signed, teasing the priestess.
Zhara shook her head. “I only want to know if you believe, as Alias does, that I could be so evil as to lie to Akabar about his dreams? That I don’t love him and I’m only using him?” she asked.
Dragonbait shook his head and signed to Zhara. Do not be offended by the swordswoman. She is still frightened by the Darkbringer, and her fear always makes her angry.
“Your Alias has no respect for the clergy,” Zhara noted coolly.
She was created that way, Dragonbait signed. She cannot help herself.
“Only a barbarian would belittle the gods as she does,” Zhara said contemptuously.
Barbarians also belittle beautiful music, as you did, Dragonbait pointed out.
Zhara looked momentarily flustered. She hadn’t expected the paladin to chide her about her behavior. She replied defensively, “Akabar has told me much of Alias. For instance, I know she practically worships Nameless and his music. That is wrong,” Zhara insisted. “Nameless is only a man, and his music is but the creation of a man. Neither the man nor his creation can compare to the gods or their works.”
Dragonbait sighed. I’ll tell you a little story, he signed. It’s a story I’ve never told anyone else. A story with a lesson.
Zhara leaned forward and watched curiously as the paladin’s hands motioned over the table.
Once there was a paladin who served the god of justice, the saurial explained. The paladin loved a priestess who served Lady Luck. The paladin was proud of himself and his service to his god. He felt there was no cause more noble than justice. He felt everyone should feel as he felt. Lady Luck was not always just however; sometimes she was fickle. Occasionally she bestowed her favor on those who did not deserve it, and withheld her favor from those who did. The paladin demanded that his priestess lover serve his god instead of Lady Luck. The two argued about it, and the paladin insulted Lady Luck and the priestess, but the priestess would not leave her goddess.
Because the paladin loved the priestess very much, he knew that if he remained near her, he would soon grow to accept her decision and remain her lover despite her refusal to do as he wished. He thought that if this happened, he would be tainted by the priestess’s love for her goddess. In his anger and pride, the paladin was determined that these things should not happen, so he left his tribe to serve his god’s cause in the dark and evil region of Tarterus.
There the paladin was captured by a fiend who intended to sacrifice the paladin for a very evil purpose. As the paladin hung from chains in a dank dungeon, very close to death, he had a vision, or perhaps it was just a dream, in which Lady Luck appeared before him. The goddess said that she did not care if she ever saw him again, but the god of justice had asked for her help in sparing the paladin’s life. If the paladin would agree to perform a service for Lady Luck, she would free him from the evil creatures who intended to kill him.
The paladin wished to live, of course, and since his god had intervened on his behalf, it would be arrogant to turn down the goddess’s offer. The paladin had learned that even the cause of justice cannot always win against evil without Lady Luck’s blessing. He agreed to perform the service, and Lady Luck sent a human to free the paladin and tell him what service he must perform. So the paladin lives yet to serve the god of justice, but he pays homage, too, to Lady Luck or to any other god or goddess who can further the cause of justice.
Dragonbait leaned forward in his chair. Zhara thought he was finished and was about to speak when the saurial began motioning once again with his hands. The paladin, Dragonbait signed, learned that the god of justice is also served by other worldly beings—merchant-mages, halfling thieves, arrogant bards—and even by the creations of worldly beings—commerce and government, history and tales, music and song. Thus the paladin learned to respect worldly things. Is it not possible that the goddess you serve is served by such things as well?
Zhara huffed. “Even if Alias’s music serves the gods, it does not make it right for her to belittle them,” the priestess insisted.
Dragonbait nodded in agreement. She has reason, though, he signed.
“What reason?” Zhara snapped.
Her taunts help her fight her fear of the gods, the paladin explained.
“If she were virtuous, she would have no reason to fear the gods,” Zhara declared.