The Temple of Heart and Bone

by Evren, S. K.

  “I thought you’ve seen all kinds of miracles,” she said, chiding him.

  “I have, girl, I have, and don’t you doubt it.” His voice was serious, almost stern. Seldom had she ever heard him speak in such a tone. “I have seen our God work wonders that you could never even imagine.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “It’s only that, in all that time, through all those events, the Maker’s worked from behind the scenes, as it were. This prayer, the power it unleashed, it was so…”

  “Flashy?” she suggested. Petreus’ face flushed and his eyes hardened.

  “No,” he said, more harshly than he’d intended. “Well,” he added thoughtfully, “yes, that’s exactly what it was.”

  “Petreus?” Chance asked, her voice as serious as his had been.

  “Yes Sasha?”

  “Can I please have that stew? I haven’t eaten a decent meal since I left here.” Her eyes shone with such longing that Petreus looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

  Chapter 25 – Pastor and Pastry

  “What has been happening to you, child,” he asked, his voice warm and sincere. He passed Chance the stew and some bread and gave her some of the ancient wine to wash it all down. She held up her finger politely and wolfed down half the stew in just a few seconds.

  “Oh, thank God,” she said warmly, after eating a large portion of the stew and bread. “And thank you, Uncle, that was wonderful!”

  “It should have been,” he smiled mischievously, “I seasoned it perfectly to tempt Brother Steadword. He almost brought me to tears last month with a plate of lamb chops.”

  Chance smiled at him, “Drothspar told me about that little game.”

  “Did he now?”

  Chance told Petreus about the cottage and her conversations with Drothspar. She also told him about their failed excursion to Æostemark and the decision to return to Arlethord. She told everything in the spaces between mouthfuls of Petreus’ stew.

  “Sweet Maker, child,” he said, assimilating all of her stories, “it’s a miracle you’ve survived!”

  “You’re right, Uncle,” she said, seriously, “You’re absolutely right.” She turned slightly and pointed to the bed. “There is my miracle.”

  Petreus looked at his niece’s face and at the still form lying in his bed. He shook his head as he tried to accept everything she had told him.

  “I always liked the young man,” he said, some of his tension starting to ease. “He tweaked almost every turned-up nose in the Cathedral.” Petreus smiled as memories of the living Drothspar sprang to mind. “He wasn’t an old prankster like me,” he explained, “and he certainly wasn’t annoying like Trethold. He never tried to raise himself above even the meanest of his brothers. He was truly an ideal priest.” Petreus’ smile turned melancholy. “That was the start of his undoing.” Drothspar stirred in his bed, but neither Chance nor Petreus noticed.

  “Petreus, what happened to him?”

  The old man looked at her and leaned back in his chair. He balanced it for a moment on its back legs and pushed the pastry across the desk to Chance. He looked closely at his door, checking under it for shadows that might be blocking the light from the hallway.

  “Drothspar was a city guard at one time,” he started, “did you know that?” Leaning forward, he broke a small piece of pastry off the whole and put it in his mouth. “From what I understand, he was a very good one. Everyone I’ve ever talked to said that he was a fair man and a fair judge of character.

  “He was reputed to be efficient with his weapons. His reputation was so well established that, for the majority of his service, he rarely had to use them. For most guards, violence is a perk of the job.” Petreus frowned. “For Drothspar, it was the last resort. The citizens of the district were very fond of him, and I hear he was never in short supply of cookies or handshakes.

  “I suppose the violence caught up with him. The stories go that one night he was summoned to a brutal murder, not that I imagine any are particularly gentle, mind you. I don’t know the details of it myself. You know how some folk like to embellish a tale, and there’s a different one for each soul who tells it. Pick through the tales, though, follow the yarns to their source, and consensus says that it was a horrible sight, the stuff of nightmares. Well, whatever he experienced must have been pretty bad. It was after this that he turned to the bottle.” Petreus picked up the bottle of wine from the desk, took a swig, and continued.

  “Drothspar excelled at everything he did. When he took to the bottle, well, he took to it with a purpose. He never drank while he was on patrol, but as soon as he got off, he tried to wash away his memories. Drinking’s not really all that uncommon, and the people where he served, they all seemed to have a deep understanding. He was one of theirs, and they loved him.

  “One night, though, he had been out with another one of the guards. They had gone to a public house and gotten themselves pretty well sauced. All accounts say they were being harmless, just singing and drinking, occasionally throwing up in a corner. No one minded them. They were just being young, letting off steam like a couple of forgotten kettles. The trouble started when they left.”

  Chance ignored the pastry and listened so closely to Petreus that she was certain her ears must have been growing.

  “The accounts of the night all match, as well as they can, up until that point. Once the two men left the bar, well, no one is really certain what happened. The only undisputed fact is that the men were set upon by thugs and thieves. When daylight came, the citizens found evidence of a serious fight in their very own streets. Five men had been killed and only one wounded man had barely survived. Drothspar was that one man.

  “A sword wound is a sword wound, a stab is a stab and a slash is a slash. Without any witnesses, it’s pretty hard to establish what exactly happened after the fact. Four men had apparently jumped Drothspar and his friend on their way home. The four men were all cut up pretty badly, but so was Drothspar’s friend. He, himself, had sustained anywhere from seven to thirty wounds, depending on who you believe. I don’t think Drothspar really concerned himself too much about the four brigands who had died, but his friend had died, too.

  “He would never talk about it, but I got the feeling that two things sent him completely over the edge. First, I think he was never sure if he would have been able to save his friend. What if he hadn’t been drinking? Could he have fought harder? Could he have done anything to save his friend’s life?”

  “What was the other thing?” Chance asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  “I think he was always afraid that he might have killed all five men.” Petreus voice whispered with a sympathetic horror.

  “Oh my God,” Chance breathed.

  “He was hailed as a hero, by the community, by his superiors. He spent a lot of time recovering from his wounds, but I think it was the wound inside that wouldn’t heal. Guilt ate away at the man, and he crawled deep into the bottle trying to drown it. He abandoned his work as a guard; he abandoned his life as a man. He drank as a man looking to join his fallen friend.

  “It was about then that Gathner found him. The archpriest had business in Drothspar’s section of town. What it was, I really don’t know, and neither of them ever told. All I really know is that one day Gathner showed up with a ragged looking man in tow. There was not a shred of hope in that man’s eyes, and his body looked like it had long given up on the idea of living.

  “The archpriest was a good man.” Chance noticed the odd stress that Petreus put on the word “was.” “I don’t know myself what he saw in Drothspar, but he certainly saw something. Most of the priests just thought the drunk would be a test of their faith. They were right, of course, just for the wrong reasons.

  “Under Gathner’s care, Drothspar weaned his way off of the bottle and cleaned himself up. Strength and faith seemed to grow in him daily. He studied hard and spent a great deal of time with Gathner. The archpriest delighted in his company, and they often appeared more as father a
nd son than superior and subordinate. I watched it all with my very own eyes, Sasha, and I can tell you, the transformation was miraculous.”

  Chance nodded her head and picked at the pastry on the desk. Petreus reached over and took a bit of pastry for himself.

  “That was the first time jealousy reared its bitter head over Drothspar. The various priests on the grounds felt threatened by such a fine example of both man and priest. These were men who had been raised to a life of service and they were being shamed by a wayward drunk.

  “Campaigns of rumors started in the hopes of dragging Drothspar down with words. When words failed, some of the less scrupulous priests set about to engage in complicated plots—the idiots. They were plotting against a former town guard, a man who’d spent his youth learning how to uncover just such things.

  “Gathner enjoyed watching his favorite pupil undermine the efforts of these shameless brothers. Drothspar never sought harm or retribution, he just allowed the men to publicly humiliate themselves. For a while, it was, I have to admit, quite entertaining.”

  “What happened to get him excommunicated? Did he miss one of the plots?”

  “No, Sasha. God blessed him with the gift of love.”

  “Love?” Her expression was a mixture of question and contempt. Petreus smiled knowingly, having heard her opinions on the subject many times.

  “Love, Sasha. It wasn’t the love itself that caused him so many troubles, this I promise you. It was the jealousy that love engendered that caused so much pain.”

  “Who was jealous?” she asked, her curiosity piquing.

  “‘Who wasn’t,’ would probably be a better question. The majority of priests were first jealous that yet another blessing was bestowed on ‘God’s favorite,’ as they called him. When they finally got to see the woman, Li, many of them went out of their heads. It was disgusting really; they were a disgrace—not only to the Order, but to manhood as well. Well, most of them would be a disgrace to a pack of thieves, so that’s to be expected.

  “This final blow to the brothers, however, didn’t cause so much of a problem. Many of them actually found God through the experience.” Petreus shook his head. “They realized that the Maker would bestow His gifts upon His chosen no matter how much they cried, plotted or whined. Li’s presence in Drothspar’s life called a halt to the majority of half-baked plots against him. It should have been a very good time. There was one man, however, who harbored something ill within the depths of his heart.

  “Gathner loved Drothspar to distraction. He groomed the young man he had drawn from the brink to be his successor. At first he was thrilled by the news that Drothspar had found love. Gathner himself had spent his life alone in the service of the Order, and I think he always regretted that.” Petreus looked through the walls as if searching the distant past for something he might have forgotten. He sighed.

  “Like I say, when Drothspar shared his discovery of love, Gathner embraced the young man and held him as close as any father might his only son. Gathner questioned the boy closely, wanting to be sure he had made a good choice. They talked often about the girl until the day finally came for introductions.

  “Drothspar and Gathner had dressed in their finest robes. Li’s family is one of the most powerful in Arlethord. Priests popped out of the windows of the dormitory like gophers from their holes. Heads and necks craned to get a look at the woman who had fallen for the ‘favorite.’ The sighs were audible and quite distracting when the carriage opened and she emerged. It took a very stern look from Gathner to close the slacked jaws and pull the heads back inside their windows.

  “Li and her family approached the stairs where Gathner and Drothspar waited. Drothspar flushed like an innocent young maiden. His eyes were filled with an ecstatic love. His smile was so pure, so genuine, you would never believe that he had seen a hard day in his life. Faith radiated from that young man as warmth radiates from the sun. Whenever I wonder what love really is, I remember back to that day and that moment on the stairs, and I look once more into his eyes.”

  “Were you there?” she asked.

  “Was I there? Of course I was there! I escorted the family from their estates to the Cathedral!”

  “You did?”

  “Yes,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at her. “Of course I did.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “If you’ll let me tell my story, I imagine you’ll find out!” He shook his head from side to side. “Eat you’re pastry and let me talk, girl!”

  “Yes, Uncle,” she said and smiled at him.

  “You see, Drothspar was a little excited about the idea of being in love, but he didn’t want to sully the girl’s good name. One night, he enlisted me to go and deliver a message to her, so I did it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I liked him! Why? Honestly, you’d think I was some sort of trouble maker or something.” He huffed and gesticulated, forgetting to modulate his voice.

  “And?” she asked, her tone insistent. The look he returned was hard and stubborn.

  “Oh, all right,” he said, resignation in his voice, “He promised to take all my dawn services for the month if I’d do it…”

  “For a month?” she said incredulously.

  Petreus nodded.

  “I’m telling you,” he explained, “he was really in love!”

  “So you just took the message?”

  “Well, that first one, yes. There were others, too. He had promised to take my services for a month, so I had to do as much as I could.”

  “Had to?” she asked, her eyebrows rising suspiciously.

  “No, I didn’t have to. I wanted to. He was such a good boy, you know. He wouldn’t drink with me, but he’d stay up all night long with me when I did. And he did take that whole month for me, like he said he would. So I took a few messages for him and brought several back.”

  “How many?”

  “One or two…”

  “A week?”

  “A day,” he answered blushing.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes—why are you looking at me like that?” He patted down his straggly hairs and wiped his hands on his face. “Her family was quite friendly, and they had the most wonderful cook! Oh, my Sasha, what that man could create in his kitchen… sinful, positively sinful.” He smiled and smacked his lips. Chance smiled back at him.

  “So,” he continued, “I was more than happy to play the messenger and lounge about their home waiting for her replies. I talked often with her father and even counseled some of their staff in spiritual matters.

  “Anyway, that’s how I got to be with the family when they came to meet Gathner. I’d been the matchmaker setting the whole thing up.”

  “You do get around, don’t you?”

  “I suppose I do,” he admitted, “but it has its uses. You see, I was standing right beside her father when Gathner first set eyes on Li.” His face darkened as if a cloud had passed between him and the candle on the desk.

  “The old man looked pristine in his robes, but his face mottled almost immediately. His eyes widened as if they had just been opened for the very first time. His brow furrowed, wrinkling his forehead like slept-in sheets. He brought one hand up to his face as if he were just shading his eyes from the sun. When the hand fell away, it was as if it had left a mask in its place. Gathner’s face was as calm as it had been before he had seen her. Only his eyes held the light of something new.

  “He had been totally focused on the girl in those moments, and I suppose everyone else had been as well. Gathner wrenched his eyes off of Li and searched everyone else around. I smiled at him with aplomb to cover the fact that I had watched the whole transfiguration. He smiled back at me brightly, though I could see a question in his eyes. I ignored it and turned to smile and wave at Drothspar.”

  “I never told anyone else about that moment, Sasha. I tried to tell Drothspar once, but he would have none of it. Think about it, it was as if I had told him his father and
his savior had somehow betrayed him.” Petreus sighed and looked at the half-eaten pastry on the table. He broke off a piece and ate it quickly.

  “Drothspar was always courteous, but he didn’t have much extra time for me after that. Gathner was suspicious, too, and did his best to drive the wedge between us deeper. I don’t know how the old man did it, but he managed to convince Drothspar that he would have to leave the Order to be with Li.”

  “You mean that wasn’t true?”

  “You knew about that?” Petreus looked at her curiously then looked at the bed. His eyebrows rose in wonder. “No,” he continued, “of course it wasn’t true. She and her family are devout children of the Maker. They support the Church and honor its laws. However, Gathner convinced Drothspar he’d have to leave the Order and he convinced Li and her family that she would be excommunicated if she married him while he was still a priest.

  “What the old man hadn’t counted on was how much they had loved each other. I think he’d counted on Drothspar staying in the priesthood and giving up his plans of marriage. It didn’t work out that way, though. Drothspar left the Order and Li left the city. Her family, always generous, gave the ‘eloping’ couple the lakeside cottage and lands I sent you off to the last time you were here.”

  “What happened then?”

  “The deceitful old git excommunicated them anyway! Cut off from the ministrations of the Church, they were ostracized from society, for all intents and purposes. Even the farmers nearby had been sent word that they were ‘sinful and unclean.’”

  “I thought they got along well with their neighbors,” Chance said, confused.

  “They did, Sasha, they did. I slipped around behind the old man’s back and gave the local farmers dispensations to deal with the couple. I also made the locals take vows of silence on the dispensations. Told them fabulous stories of hellfire and vengeful Fallen who are damned to tormenting those who break such vows for any reason.” He smirked to himself. “They wouldn’t have told Gathner if he’d have come there himself to ask them.”