“I don’t think it killed the Seer,” Hefertus said, sounding bored. “It was stuck up there. Trapped. I studied its cage with care and saw no way out.”
“It’s a demon. It can leap. To any open vessel.”
Hefertus rolled his shoulders. “Open vessel? Is that what you are, High Saint?”
“Enough,” Sir Kodelai said, emerging from his tent. I hadn’t even seen him go in, but he was carrying a wooden box out with him. He unfurled a small prayer mat, forcing Adalbrand to move out of the way, and then laid the box on it and slowly began to remove his armor piece by piece. “I will entreat the God. In the morning, we’ll go together into the monastery and we’ll dress the Seer’s body and enact the God’s justice.”
And after that, I would leave.
“That’s good enough for me!” The High Saint said loudly, as if we were all waiting for his stamp of approval. Ha. “The God is satisfied. We shall set all other arguments aside!” He shot me a glare at that, as if it were I and not he who had throttled the other. “Let us gather around Sir Kodelai to pray, brothers … and sister.”
I blinked at him. Was he in earnest?
He coughed awkwardly, and when he met my eye and saw the rage there, he swallowed. I held his gaze for a long moment. My throat still hurt. He’d hurt it out of panic and shame. I was not sure I could forgive that.
Excellent! Feed your anger.
Annoyed that I must be contrary to a demon, I sheathed my sword and whistled to Brindle to call off his pacing.
Very well. I would give grace for now. But I would not forget.
When I looked up, Adalbrand was watching me, but I could not meet his eye. Where he had been peaceable, I had drawn my sword. Where he had been collected and reasonable, I had heard only the roar of blood in my ears. I was ashamed that I was exposed for him to see.
“Gather,” the High Saint called. “Let us gather.”
I resented being ordered around by a man who had just choked me, but I couldn’t help the warmth in my heart as we gathered around Sir Kodelai. These community moments were always rough on me. A tiny taste of a “could-have-been” that I would never possess, except for in these few fleeting minutes. Community of any kind was not a thing granted my aspect.
Sir Owalan set a hand on Sir Kodelai’s shoulder — bare of pauldrons now, but still broad and hard under his jerkin. Beside him, the High Saint limped over to set a grim hand on Sir Kodelai’s other shoulder and one on Sir Owalan’s shoulder.
I didn’t know what the others saw at moments like this one. But I know what I saw. I saw a faint glow and a warmth like the air over a boiling kettle.
It made me softer toward the idea of forgiveness … or at least tolerance.
I saw it grow when the Inquisitor bowed his head and stepped up to place the splayed fingers he’d newly received back from the grave across the back of the High Saint’s hand. With his other hand, he beckoned the Majester over and wrapped an arm around the older general’s shoulders.
The Majester’s head was bent, but he made room when Hefertus pulled in beside him, wrapping his huge arms over the High Saint’s and across the Majester’s shoulders. He placed his other hand over Sir Kodelai’s clasped hands, breaking the silence as he murmured.
“The God grant us an ear.”
The two engineers had moved in silently. They clapped their hands over Hefertus and Sir Sorken reached out and wrapped a meaty hand over my pauldron, drawing me into the group. He didn’t even look at me. And that was the thing with praying over someone. We were one in that moment. Differences set aside. No need to ostracize or jockey. No place for grudges.
Even extremely warranted ones.
Like the one I had.
The light was so bright now that it felt blinding to me. I glanced over my shoulder at Brindle and hoped he’d stay put. He yawned.
I will stay right here.
Good enough.
It still felt awkward when Sir Adalbrand found his place between me and the High Saint. He didn’t look at me. Didn’t touch me. His hand was on top of the High Saint’s and his other reached over and clasped Hefertus’s forearm, his wrist brace barely brushed mine, and yet I felt his nearness like one feels a fire near. It was impossible to ignore.
We said the benediction together, in unison. And for those moments that our lips moved as one and our bodies were joined by touch and intention — for those moments — I felt like I was a part of something bigger, greater, deeper than I was on my own. For those moments, I felt more like a paladin than I had since I kept vigil. It bound me to these others, knit us to each other in hope and faith.
And when the words were spoken, the God entreated, our duty — but also our gift — imparted, we broke apart. The gaze of the High Saint grazed mine and for a moment there was a ghost of a smile on his lips, as if all had been forgotten.
I did not find forgiveness so accessible.
