Notes: Let's go figure out what the deal is at Melemor's Temple, huh? Should be easy peasy...

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards: Chapter 9, Part 2 

***

Chapter Nine, Part Two

I Think That Went Well, Don’t You?

Two cups of tea, a quick bath, and a fresh pair of clotheslater and Hiram was on his way to the Temple of Melemor. He could have takenMule—it would have made the journey faster—but he was in a contemplative placeafter the memories he’d been assailed with last night, and decided it would benicer to walk. It hadn’t been all that long since he’d left Galenish and Andurionbehind, and yet…he’d forgotten. He’d genuinely forgotten how bad it had beenbefore he finally walked away.

The mind is a surprisingly resilient organ.

It was an unfortunately tenacious one, too. He felt it, overand over again, as he walked—the blow that had knocked him down, the blow thatwas the true end of the relationship that has defined his life. It wasn’t eventhe first time Andy had ever hit him, was the thing. They’d trained together fordecades, which inevitably led to bumps and lumps. The first time he’d startedlearning staff work, he’d managed to split Andy’s lip so badly there was stilla faded scar there, and Andy had broken not one, but two bones in his foot oncewhen he’d moved unexpectedly and put his armored boot on Hiram’s slipper. Thosehad been painful, but understandable—accidents happened. It was inevitable,they’d laughed about it even as they’d bled.

That hit, though…that hadn’t been inevitable. That had beena choice, a deliberate choice to assert dominance in the coarsest way possible.As soon as Hiram had realized that, once he’d assured himself there was nothingat work on his lover except Andy’s own greed and impatience, that had beenthat.

He’d been gone before the month was out.

If Phlox knew where Hiram’s mind had taken him, he didn’tsay anything about it. He only sat there in his ear, inert but for the faintglow of his spirit and a trickle of heat that was a comfort on a chillymorning. Hiram smiled as he walked, melancholy but grateful, so grateful, for whathe still had. Before long, his strides had brought him to the western edge ofLollop, and as he turned north he was joined by more townspeople on the road,all headed to the temple for Lares services. He nodded to several whom he recognizedand eventually struck up a conversation with a cheesemaker that lasted untilthey got to the temple, which…

That was a big temple for such a modest town. Melemorwas a major god of the pantheon, yes, and his temples were also often used asclinics and infirmaries, but heavens, this was as tall as two barns stacked ontop of each other. It was made of stone, too—not marble, of course, butsmooth river rock bound with cement and stacked toward the sky in the immensearch that was said to resemble Melemor’s prayerful hands. The stones weremulticolored, and many of them had veins of quartz and mica that shone in themorning sunlight. It was…quite beautiful, Hiram thought to himself. Evencompared to the cathedral back home, this was quite beautiful.

“I’m sorry about this rubbish decree of the High Priest’s,Hiram.”

He turned with a smile to look at Tilda. “It’s quite allright, my dear.”

“It’s not,” she said sourly, her lovely face stiff withresentment. “And I told him and Uriel as much, but—”

“No, truly.” He shrugged. “If knowing a bit more about mewill solidify my welcome in Lollop, I’m happy to participate in a cleansing.”

“Cleansings are meant to be voluntary, not compelled,” shesaid with a sigh. “Especially when they’re for public consumption. It’snonsensical—no one has brought any kind of complaint about you, they have nogood reason to doubt your character.”

Hiram just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave hera comforting squeeze. “Let’s go see if we can get ourselves a good seat, hmm?”

The temple was already two-thirds full by the time they gotin, the pews filled with families trying to occupy their children as everyonewaited for the light to be right. Melemor’s services only started, bytradition, when the focused rays of morning light began to directly illuminatethe altar at the front of the temple, and they ended once the beam of light hadmoved on. It made for a relatively short service, which was pleasant for mostinvolved.

Today, it was clear that the priests were impatient to getstarted. High Priest Velagros stood, tall and ascetic, right behind the altar,his hands clasped in a position of prayer even as his glittering eyes roved theroom. When they landed on Hiram, they narrowed sharply even as the corners ofhis lips perked up.

Well, at least Hiram couldn’t be accused of shirking hisresponsibility. Nor could anyone else, it seemed—he and Tilda had to squish inwith their neighbors as more and more people entered the temple.

I wonder… Hiram sat a bit straighter and lookedaround, but he couldn’t see Avery in the crowd. Surely he was here somewhere,though. Perhaps he liked to sit in the back.

There was a sudden, sonorous sounding of the gong, callingall worshippers to attention. The High Priest stepped forward, hands aloft, andas he spread them apart, sunshine seemed to gather in them for a moment. “All praiseto the god of healing love and the light of truth,” he intoned in a voice thatdidn’t sound very loving at all. “Sing the song of solace.”

Hiram murmured along with the song as best he could. Itreally had been a long time since he’d prayed to Melemor, and he wasn’tsurprised that his devotions were a bit sloppy. Eh, Melemor wouldn’t care.

They got through two more songs, several incantations forminor healing that left numerous people in the crowd smiling, and one dirge forthe death of a gnomish family patriarch at the ripe old age of a hundred andeighty-seven. That was fairly involved, and by the time the last of thegreat-great-great-great-grandchildren had been named, the light was well pastthe midpoint of the altar. Hiram actually worried for a moment that he wouldn’tbe called up, which after the psybane would truly be a waste, until—

“And finally,” the High Priest said, gaze unerringly findingHiram, “we have a ritual cleansing to welcome the newest member of our societyto Lollop. Hiram Emblic, step forward so that ye may be freed of your sins inthe light of Melemor and your neighbors.”

There was a massive rustling as everyone in the entiretemple turned to stare at Hiram. Fortunately, he was immune to embarrassment andonly smiled as he stood and eased his way past the other people in the pew andmade his way to the front of the vast room. An acolyte had already laid out akneeling pillow for him, and he settled himself on it as Velagros came to standin front of him. He held a bronze bowl in one hand and a silver-bladed knife inthe other.

“Open your heart and soul to the love of Melemor, Master Emblic,”he said, then held out the knife.

Nice of him to let me do the cutting. This was allpart of the ritual—a symbolic cut that would be healed along with whatever “bedeviled”him inside thanks to Melemor’s grace. It was also a test in and of itself; ifyou only gave yourself the tiniest prick, you might be seen as lacking faith.Hiram scraped the length of his index finger down the blade, and bloodimmediately began to drip.

High Priest Velagros captured some of it in the bowl,frowning, then set the blade on the altar behind them. He then dipped hisfingers into the blood and closed his eyes. “The spirit of our god binds andsanctifies our connection,” he said. “Let it show me, and all of those present,your true heart.” He pressed his fingertips to his own forehead, then reachedfor Hiram’s. Hiram closed his eyes and focused on the past that had sent him toLollop, hoping that Melemor would understand. The fingers touched his head, andthen…

Feelings of harshness, hatred, and abandonment echoedthroughout the temple. No specific words, no pointed visions, but awretchedness and sense of loss that it was Velagros’s job to contain. Right onits heels was the pain of walking away from Misha, leaving his family behind,his baby, and there was no way back and he knew it, he would never seeher again… Hiram had lived all this last night, and while it wasn’t pleasant toexperience it again, it wasn’t enough to hurt him. He heard Velagros gaspinghis way through the cleansing prayer and hoped the other man was able toprotect the rest of the townspeople.

Gradually, the feelings of despair gave way to somethingsweet and soft. The light shining down at the altar was warm, like a blanketresting on Hiram’s shoulders as he sat before a toasty fire. It soothed theaches and twinges that had seemed like his constant companion since leavingGalenish, and he smiled as he felt the cut on his finger knit. As the heatfinally faded, Hiram opened his eyes once more and looked up at the High Priest,who was staring down at him with a blank expression on his face.

“Thank you,” Hiram said wholeheartedly.

To his shock, Velagros suddenly burst into tears. Not justtears but sobs, wrenching and awful, that sounded as though they were being forciblypried out of him for all the shuddering and shivering he did. Hiram wasmystified until he realized that he’d just shared one of the most traumaticexperiences of his life with a man who knew his townspeople inside and out. Velagroswasn’t the type to be overcome by emotion; he could distance himself from thefamiliar trials of his flock. Hiram was…a bit of an outlier, there.

An acolyte quickly stepped up and finished the ceremony,wiping Hiram’s forehead and hand clean with a white cloth as another acolytetook the High Priest by the shoulders and drew him away from the wide-eyestownsfolk witnessing his breakdown. “Blessings of love and light upon you all,”the acolyte who’d tidied up Hiram said loudly, and then, “We’re done, thanks.”The light hadn’t even fully passed the altar.

Hiram sighed as he got to his feet. Instead of gettingthrough things with minimal fuss like he’d intended, now he was sure to be evenmore the talk of the town. That was the last bloody thing he needed, anddespite the energy that the healing had left him with, he felt rather tempestuousas he strode down the center aisle faster than anyone could reach out to him.He didn’t want to field nosy questions and suspicious glances, didn’t want totalk at all, really, he just wanted to be left in peace, was that so much tobloody ask? He heard the stirring of hundreds of bodies behind him, ready tomove out, and it took all he had to resist the urge to run. He couldn’t—

“Master Emblic,” someone called from his left, low andsteady. Hiram turned and saw Avery Surrus a dozen feet away holding the reins ofa chestnut mare. He must have exited the temple even faster than Hiram. “MightI help you make your escape?” he offered with a little smile on his face.

Hiram didn’t care in the moment whether it was a ruse, ajoke, or a taunt. He practically ran to Avery’s side and didn’t hesitate as theman, with deceptive ease, handed him up into the saddle. Avery followed rightafter, and Hiram settled in the center of his loose embrace as he clicked thereins and tapped the mare with his heels. They set off at a trot, and were gonefrom sight before more than a score of people had even made it outside, muchless started over toward him.

“My hero,” he murmured, and felt the vibration of Avery’slaugh against his back.

“My pleasure.”