“A fish . . . ,” I begin.
The very idea.
“Aedre.” Aloisa’s husband opens the door and steps inside. A fisherman, he most often does not return home until much later in the evening. But the storm that arrived yesterday has lingered. It is raining even now, so I put up my hood before venturing outside.
“Are you well?” I ask.
“Well indeed.” He stops me as I make to leave. “You may wish to wait, the rain will be coming down harder soon.”
Though I adore them both, I do not wish to be trapped here all eve, nor does Aloisa wish it, I suspect, from the way she is looking at her husband.
Offering a silent blessing, I make toward the door.
“Then I shall hurry. Good eve to you both.”
Closing the door behind me, I walk quickly.
But not quickly enough. Just as I pass Sailor’s Inn, the rain falls as heavily as if someone were standing above me pouring brimming buckets over my head.
Ducking inside the tavern portion of the inn, I wonder if I made the best choice. Will it indeed rain all eve? If so, I shall simply walk home after a quick meal, resigned to remain wet.
I turn, my eyes adjusting to the dim light of candles and few lanterns, the shutters closed to ward off the rain. Then I make my way to the back of the great room and sit on a stool at the long board. I’m not far from the table where I sat with Vanni.
“Beef stew for ya, Aedre girl?”
The innkeeper himself slides a mug of ale toward me without asking. Father and I have come here many times throughout the years, the owner Neill, having been a friend of his since childhood.
“Aye, if it pleases you.”
“Pleases me plenty.” The old man shuffles off, leaving me to my thoughts, but is back again before long.
“Our finest bowl of stew, my lady.”
“Many thanks.” I toss two coins onto the board. “’Tis less crowded than I’d have thought, with the rain.”
Instead of answering, Neill looks behind me. So I turn, my heart thumping with the hope that Vanni might be behind me. But I groan as soon as I see the man making his way toward me.
“Father Beald.”
“A woman alone in an establishment such as this would be heartily frowned upon in many places,” he comments, giving me a look full of judgment.
I glance around for Neill, but I’m not the only one who dislikes the Elderman. He’s nowhere to be seen. I’ve been left to ward off the Elderman myself.
“Much like a man of God who preaches love and spews hate.”
I’ve attempted in the past to garner the man’s favor despite his obvious dislike for me, but no honeyed words can overcome blind hatred. I had long ago stopped trying.
His smirk makes my blood run cold.
“You’ve left Murwood End to learn the truth of your words?”
I’ve not. And he knows it well.
Leaning toward me, he whispers for my ears alone. “I’ve visited your grandmother. The great Lady Edrys did not appear very well. Such a shame. So few Garra remain. I shouldn’t be surprised if there’s one less one day soon.”
Tensing, I do not even attempt to hide the anger that courses through me.
“You are an evil man.”
He does not seem the least bit bothered by my words.
“The only evil here, Lady Aedre, is a brazen woman who preaches pleasure. Who caters to the devil’s whims, flaunting herself as if proud. And proud of what? You are less than nothing.”
I want to flee. To rid myself of his presence. But I can’t allow him that victory. So I turn back to my ale as if his words do not make me want to toss the contents of my mug in his face.
After a moment, no longer able to feel his cloying presence next to me, I glance over my shoulder, wholly unprepared to see Vanni standing between us.
He says something to the Elderman, who, with one final glare back at me, turns to leave. It comes as little surprise when Vanni follows him out.
Attempting to steady my hands, which are still shaking, I take a drink. And another. Only when a second ale is placed in front of me, Neill apologizing for leaving when he sees my face, does Vanni return. He does not say a word but rather nods to the table where we sat several days earlier, one affording more privacy.
“That will be the last time Father Beald speaks to you again.”
I’m not prepared for the controlled anger that simmers beneath the surface of his words. But then, neither am I prepared for another conversation with the man I’ve thought about nearly every moment since leaving that cave.
Vanni sits and leans forward across the table.
“Tell me what he said to you.”
Chapter Fourteen Vanni
This was the closest I’ve come to injuring a man of God.
I fought a Shadow Warrior once, a guest of Castle d’Almerita. Though Father Aiken arrived with the Prima, I immediately sensed something different about him. While many of the Eldermen and their warriors shared their leader’s extreme views, this one held his tongue during his time as the king’s guest.
Father Aiken and I challenged each other each day of his visit. He defeated me the first day. And I him, on the second.
As I got to know the man, I found there was little to dislike. Our beliefs were different, but he was a good, honorable man, and one of the best warriors I’d ever had the pleasure of fighting.
So I know there are good men and bad in the church. But I am equally certain Father Beald belongs to the latter group. He is no warrior, however, so I could not challenge him as I did Father Aiken. I had to use words, and the
