Chapter 7: Take a Letter, Maria
Last night as I got home about half past ten
There was the woman I thought I knew, in the arms of another man.
I kept my cool, I ain't no fool, let me tell you what happened then:
I packed my clothes and I walked out, and I ain't goin' back again.
So take a letter, Maria. Address it to my wife.
Say I won't be coming home. Gonna start a new life.
R.B. Greaves
June 21st through the morning of June 25th, Legis Day, Albanus 1
Shortly after midnight, Titus and Severus returned to the barge with the urns that supposedly contained the ashes of Count Arius and Matina. Martialis agreed to remain in town one day (and to later claim that Larentius disappeared with the urns) and then head north towards High Hold. Hopefully that would put him north of Rostilla, on his way to the army, before the news broke.
Back on the boat, the band questioned the assassin -- who turned out to be a fanatic of the worst kind. No one sent her, she insisted. The priest of Dulcea charged her to search for and kill "infidels" (which, to her, seemed to mean "paladins"; paladins are all Viridians, she sneered, heretics who don't give the Sweet One her due worship). Severus gave her an option to atone before her death. A gesture she disdainfully rejected. And so Titus executed her swiftly and cleanly, sending her soul on to Dulcea in the Outer Darkness.
That night, the Gods blessed the troop. Marius had been disappointed that he was too young and inexperienced to chant the prayers that would determine whether or not the ashes they had were their parents' bodies. Yet in the morning, when he awoke, he found that Legis had given him the strength he needed. When he prayed over the urns, he found that one did indeed contain Matina -- but Arius' body was nowhere near. (Out of character, it's very cool when gaining a level actually makes good RPing sense!)
Cassius spent the day of the 21st hawking their goods (under the watchful eyes of Corvina and Leyna), while Severus and Larentius feverishly scribed the declaration of rebellion. Meanwhile Marius and Titus wandered out into the port town to examine the local temples. They found three. The first, a temple of Crescens, had a small house attached to it. Titus sensed several moderately evil things within, two of which were touched by a nefas taint. Marius, more familiar with typical temple lay-out, noticed something odd. That house ought to be the quarters of the priestesses... but there were a couple men coming out of it. Men who seemed to be adjusting their belts and brushing their tunics into place... The young priest indignantly informed his brother that this "temple of Crescens" was nothing more than a brothel!
There was nothing unclean at the next stop, the temple of Legis, and the brothers headed on to their last stop, the temple of Askelius. The temple turned out to be unusual -- it was staffed by priestesses, not priests. Titus eyed the girls tending the herbs in the courtyard and saw nothing evil. He did, however, see an elderly woman with a cane heading his way. Another long stare confirmed that she wasn't evil... but she was annoyed.
Turns out this was the Mother Superior of the convent, and she wanted to know why two men were standing in her doorway ogling her young charges. Marius turned beet red and began stammering excuses; Titus, less visibly flustered, attempted to answer her questions. Were they sick? No, Titus admitted, but this involved a disease. Who was sick? Well, um, Titus sputtered, beginning to become unnerved by the crone's beady stare, could they perhaps have some of her time tomorrow morning? Why? she snorted. Were they planning on getting sick this evening? The interrogation dragged on another couple of minutes, until Titus finally cried, "Arrgh! Enough sneaking around. Can we talk to you, now? In private?"
The old priestess led them into a sitting room, and once they were in private the paladin pulled back his cloak to reveal his tabard, the sign that he was a member of the Order of St. Cavallius. "Is that yours," the hag grumbled, "or did you mug someone and steal it?" Marius gamely slashed his palm (wincing, later, at how much it smarted) and let his brother heal the wound to demonstrate his purity. At that the woman relaxed, and apologized for her surliness. She'd meant no insult; two years ago, a dock-worker had killed a young paladin and took his tabard. When the count caught him trying to pass as a knight, he had the murderer hung. (Though to his death, the man insisted he'd found the tabard on a corpse -- he hadn't killed anyone.)
Having progressed past the suspicious stage, Titus and Marius told the priestess about the temple of Crescens. Though shocked, she believed them -- and admitted she'd had some doubts about the quality of their priestesses, too. She agreed to keep silent until their letter had gone public, but said she needed to warn her lord, the count of Sandapilla. With that, the brothers left. Marius was very careful not to look at ANY of the young priestesses on the way out.
That evening they returned to the temple of Legis and warned the priest there. Severus pointed out that they needed a white bull: Marius had to make the sacrifice on Legis Day on Surrexus' behalf. The priest of Legis let them have a bull from the temple's herds. In fact, under Marius' gentle urging, he let them have the temple's best bull. "It would be poor thanks to give you a lesser animal," he said, "after the warning you've brought us."
Back on the boat, the letters finally got finished and handed over to a local merchant house for delivery. The next morning, June 22nd, the party set off down the river. Irate at the bargemen's fees, they decided to only travel halfway by boat. This annoyed the boatmen ("Where we gonna get any more passage if you go hopping off in the middle o' nowhere?!?") who finally agreed to drop their prices by a quarter.
The trip down the Rogatus took three days. Shortly before sunrise on Legis Day, June 25th, they arrived on the shores of the county of Tillaford, just below the bluffs of Altus Heights. They disembarked and Marius, nervous, prepared his first sacrifice. A calming song from Cassius stilled the boy's nerves, and he performed the ceremony brilliantly.
(Omens to come...)