In the meantime, he had an appointment to keep, one for which he was very late. Captain Vertucio, Vambran's commanding officer, had sent a summons to him while he'd been visiting with Nimra Skolotti and her daughter. The lieutenant had not received the message immediately, even after returning to the Matrell estate, because of two things. The first, of course, was the fact that the entire household was in something of an uproar, preparing for Emriana's birthday party. The second reason was because Vambran had been careful to avoid being seen by too many people, particularly the rest of the family, when he'd returned from his excursion to the east side of the city. The less Uncle Dregaul knew of his whereabouts, the better.
Vambran made haste to the captain's office, hoping the meeting would not last long. It was already growing late in the day, and Emriana would be devastated if Vambran wasn't in attendance for the beginning of the party. He'd promised to be her escort during her presentation to the guests, and he had no intention of letting her down. If he could be in and out of the captain's offices in only a few moments, he should still have plenty of time to get back, clean up, and be ready to go.
Vambran rounded a corner and nearly stumbled into Grand Trabbar Lavant, who was coming from the opposite direction.
The lieutenant stopped himself from scowling and stammered, "I-oh! Grand Trabbar!'' He bowed and continued, "You don't make your way down here into our part of the temple very often. What brings you here today?"
The Grand Trabbar looked Vambran over with a critical eye, and the mercenary began to grow uncomfortable under the high priest's gaze. It was apparent that the older man was studying him, and Vambran knew that Lavant was aware of his involvement in the aftermath of Jithelle's and Hoytir's murders. He wondered if the Grand Trabbar was on to him, if the high priest knew that Vambran had continued to seek out answers even after Kovrim's warning to be subtle.
Finally, Grand Trabbar Lavant smiled and said, "Vambran Matrell, I was just beginning to wonder if you were going to appear at all today. Your captain sent that message out quite some time ago."
Vambran sucked in his breath and replied, "My apologies, sir. I was indisposed for most of the morning, and tonight, my House is celebrating my younger sister's sixteenth birthday. You can imagine what sort of chaos is taking place today as everyone in the household prepares."
"Yes," the Grand Trabbar said coolly. "I had, in fact, heard that. Well, we must be quick. There's no time to waste."
"Of course, sir," Vambran replied, trying not to appear wary, though he was feeling very suspicious.
There was no reason why someone as high in the temple's hierarchy as Lavant would bother to sit in on a meeting between officers of the mercenary company. That told the lieutenant that the Grand Trabbar was up to something, and he was pretty sure it had to do with getting him out of the way of the cover-up of the murders. He smoothed his expression as the pair of them entered Captain Vertucio's office.
The captain was seated behind a desk, looking over some roster lists, when the high priest and the lieutenant arrived. His eyes brightened at the sight of Vambran.
"Ah, good, he found you!" the officer said. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to send out a search party."
Vambran smiled slightly and said, "I'm very sorry, sir. As I explained to the Grand Trabbar, things are just a little bit manic at our estate right now. My sister's birthday party is tonight."
"Ah, right!" Captain Vertucio said. "I remember you mentioning that. Well, then, I'm sorry to pull you away from your family affairs, but I've got important news. We're going to be shipping the entire company out at first light tomorrow. I'm putting you in charge of logistics. You need to get started immediately."
CHAPTER NINE
Kovrim closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in frustration. He held that for several moments, massaging the flesh to stave off the headache he could sense was coming. The priest let out a long, slow sigh, trying to relax his whole body, and the effect was startling. He hadn't realized how tense his shoulders were until he consciously relieved them.
The Syndo was getting nowhere in his search for some evidence that would reveal who was involved in the business deal at which Grand Trabbar Lavant had hinted. Whatever Lavant had going on that might be connected to the deaths of the two commoners, no one knew anything about it, and there was no record of it in the temple's business logs, current or archives. The high priest had done a good job of hiding it, if it did exist, which Kovrim was beginning to doubt. He was about ready to throw his hands up in despair and tell his nephew that there was nothing to pursue. Or, that Vambran would have better luck following up other leads, such as with the dead girl's mother.
Then Kovrim considered a possibility that hadn't occurred to him before. It made him feel ill at ease, for it was far from honest.
Then again, he told himself, if there's something going on, do I not have a responsibility to expose it before it brings woe to the entire temple?
The argument didn't feel terribly convincing. Claiming that the ends justified the means had never held much water with Kovrim, and he certainly didn't like falling back on it simply out of convenience then. Still, he felt a sense of urgency to do whatever it took to uncover the truth. If that meant a tumble from grace, then so be it. He could atone later, if that was what was required, or suffer the persecutions otherwise. He had to exercise every available option given to him. For Vambran's sake.
After all, he thought, I gave him that crossbow when he was twelve.
Nodding as if to convince himself, Kovrim scurried out of the records room and back to his own offices. If he was going to do it, he would have to know beforehand that it would offer up results. He shut the door and slid the bolt home, locking the portal securely. Then he sat down at his desk and took several deep, calming breaths. Afterward, he pulled his ceremonial prayer accoutrements out of the drawer of his desk and arranged them carefully on its surface.
First, Kovrim lit a taper from one of the lanterns in his office and used it to light some incense, which he placed in an open bowl. Once the smoke from that began to fill the room and he was sure it would not go out, the priest poured a bit of water from a stone pitcher he kept handy into a second bowl, a larger one, and set that right before him. He pulled a pouch open and dumped a handful of gold coins, five-sided Sembian nobles, out onto the desk, which he began to drop into the bowl of water one by one. As each coin splashed and tumbled to the bottom of tile bowl, Kovrim spoke a word of thanks, or of offering, or a plea for divine favor. When twenty-five coins were piled in the bowl, Kovrim closed his eyes and began to pray.
The priest sat that way for a very long time, murmuring his entreaties to Waukeen, fervently asking for guidance in what he was about to do. He formed the question he wanted answered in his mind, thinking only of it, letting the words of the prayer fall from his lips by rote, focusing every other part of himself on divining the answer. He willed himself to perfect calmness, let the odor of the incense and the joyous presence of his deity wash over him. He was at peace when he prayed, whether he was simply acknowledging his goddess's favor with appreciation, or he was drawing on the Merchant Friend for miraculous magic. That was his life, his dedication, and he felt no fear, no doubt, when he was in such a state.