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Scapegoat By Amber Michelle K. The night was cool and carried the crispness of autumn, even in the middle of August. There was a hint of mist, the grass already moist with it and the torches guttered now and then as if fighting it, and the way was rife with the danger of slipping for those who chose not to stay on the path. Krelian had decided to take his chances and veered off a little ways before he reached the clearing Sophia was escorted to. The Nisan clergymen couldn't be trusted. It was clear enough when they'd been welcomed from the desert at swordpoint, though it seemed Sophia had forgotten already. The best of them fell beneath his sword at the cathedral in Nimrod, and what was /left/, what they'd met upon coming to this place, had not yet proven itself safe. They said the same of him, but he'd brought Sophia back to them intact; what could they say? He was careful to move among the shadows, of which there were many once he put distance between himself and the usual walkways. The foliage was not thick so he had to stop quite a ways away once they were in sight, lest someone catch sight of him. Valerin, the acting leader of the rabble, was quick to mistrust, and would be just as quick to have Krelian clapped in irons if he knew they were being watched. "... know you have vouched for him, but the others are demanding an explanation. He is the only one--" "No." The steel in that one utterance was almost enough to make Krelian step back. Valerin did, and looked as if he regretted it. "Who else could it /be/?" His voice was hushed. "He has already betrayed us once on the King's orders, so what is to stop him from--" "I said /no/, Valerin." Sophia's back was to him from this angle, but her voice was loud and clear, and sent Valerin another step back. "He is by my side every moment of the day. It has been that way for years. I would know if he were involved in this at all." "That's something else we were worried about," the priest murmured. There was a tense pause. Krelian held his breath, afraid they would hear him. He'd heard the mutterings about his presence, though none of the priests chose to confront him with their concerns. Their discontent was nothing new, and he was quite open about his dislike as well, when Sophia was not in earshot. Why lie? It was best to know where one stood. They were lucky he gave them that courtesy in a peaceful fashion, rather than letting them know with a sword through the gut, as he would have a few years ago. However, this was the first time he'd heard someone try to connect him to the recent clashes with Nimrod's troops, and to hear it come out of Valerin's mouth... well, he didn't trust the man, but he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. Until now. "I submitted myself to your tests. I told you everything that happened." Sophia shook her head and sighed. Her hair shimmered like copper thread. "I put my trust in you, Valerin, at great personal risk, and against his advice - which, I assure you, has not led me wrong in the past," she said, raising her voice just when it appeared to Krelian that he might protest. "I don't want to begin this new sect by pushing the troubles of the old one onto a convenient scapegoat. I hope you understand." "Your heart is too soft, Sophia." And Valerin's tone was resigned, his expression unreadable in the flickering torchlight. "But I will let them know of your decision." He bowed and shuffled back a few steps before turning to stride out of the clearing, leaving her no chance to respond. Krelian released his breath slowly and straightened, even approaching a few steps before he stopped to wait for a sign from Sophia. He was there at her request, and though he couldn't see why she would want him to be there, refusing never occurred to him. The priest was no physical threat, in his estimation, but he did need watching. There was some pleasure to be taken in knowing every one of the man's conversations with Sophia, knowing she was always safe, and never out of his sight. It was an old habit; only a fool let a young girl wander around alone among the clans. /They/ were probably to blame for the recent attacks on Nisan's territory. Most clans were uninvolved in the Nimrod dispute, but the King's money still owned the groups in their area, and whoever controled the money probably had a vested interest in restoring the borders. Nisan would be the juiciest target. He wasn't positive, but it was a reasonable theory. For a group of supposedly educated men, the clergy was remarkably dense about the issue. "Krelian?" "Yes." He pushed into the clearing and halted at her side. She was short enough that he could easily stare down at the top of her head, and when she turned to smile at him, she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry." She looked away quickly then, twisting her hands together. "Do you have any ideas? I don't think they'll take my word for it this time." He put an arm around her shoulders and urged her toward the path Valerin took earlier. "A few. We'll talk after you have something to eat." |