Bookish dragon with a pen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bookish_dragon) wrote2006-11-22 05:23 pm
bookish_dragon) wrote2006-11-22 05:23 pm
Entry tags:
NaNoWriMo, part 15
Chapter 9
His back and his head hurt. He did not want to be here. Kilak looked up to the small window in his cell. He knew that it would be barred. He had been locked up enough times that he did not need to climb up there to find out. Because a high priest always spoke the truth and and street-rats like him always lied, he had been beaten until he confessed he had been trying to steal the man's money. Which he had wanted to do, but sometimes you could get away by trying to pass as innocent. Kilak sighed. It would be use to try and break out. Elves were very good builders, when they put their minds to it. They could stand to learn something from thedwarves though, Kilak had found. Dwarves were the persons to go to when you wanted a prison no ordinary person could break out of. Even master-lockpickers would not want to go up against a dwarven-made lock. He wondered how they did it. Would their beards not get in the way? They did grow them long and full. Sitting down with his back against the wall Kilak stretched out his arms. He was no master-lockpicker, and he could not open even a very simple lock. For the moment he was stuck here. Until they decided to punish him. Kilak was not looking forward to that. It would be painful, he knew that. He had never run into people who did not treat him badly for one reason or another. Was there a target painted on his back? This city, Larghain, was one of the worst though. He had not seen many members of races other than elves or humans. That did not make him wonder much. He did not even have to do anything to get handed over to the proper authorities. Why were they so opposed to those smaller than they were? He rubbed his arms and shifted against the wall as his back acted up. He needed to get out of here.
The door opened and Rosa stood in the opening, arms in her sides. "You! Get here!" Kilak got up slowly and walked over to her. "Faster than that. Did I give you permission to dawdle?"
"No, ma'am," he said.
"That is what I thought. Now move." She marched out into the corridor in front of him. Kilak struggled to keep up with her, his back hurting so much that he could not walk veryfasr , and wondering what was going to happen to him. They rounded a corner. The agent Marlund was standing guard in front of the only door in this hallway. He nodded at Rosa, and ignored Kilak.The halfling did not care. He was used to being ignored. He was not used to not being threatened. That unnerved him. This was not how it was supposed to go. Young as he was he had been thrown into jail more times that he could remember, and threats were part of the life there. Whether they came from the guards, or from the fellow-prisoners. Both elves stood completely still, facing each other, as though listening to something only they could hear. After an indeterminable amount of time a signal of some kind came through and Marlund opened the door. Kilak got shoved through it. Before he could adjust what was inside the door got closed behind him. He really was in trouble now.
High priest Vender paced the room in front of the priest. She was young, brown-haired and freckled, and very scared right now. "Does the word 'secrecy mean anything to you? Does the word 'stealth'? 'We will bide our time'? Well?" He did not look at her. She looked at the carpet. "I asked you a question. Are you going to answer it? Or shall I? 'High priest Vender, I wanted to ruin all carefully prepared plans so I talked with those clerics who are not on our side'. You are very lucky I got the investigation, or else you would be talking to the church-inquisitors right now. And they are not gentle, as you might well know. Who have you told in your moment of brain-deadness?" He stopped pacing and looked at her. She cringed at his eyes. They were cold and unyielding. She mumbled under her breath. "What was that? There was so much noise when you took a breath that I could not hear what you said."
"I only told Brother Lucas, high priest. We are going out together, and I wanted to give him the opportunity to join us."
"How utterly romantic. And stupid. Nothing corrupts as easily as love. The boyfriends of today are the people who stab you in the back tomorrow. Remember that. How did he seem towards what you told him?"
"It was hard to say. He is not the most readable of people. He seemed open towards the idea."
"Then it was not a complete waste of time. Good," Vender said. "That will count in deciding your punishment, Sister."
"Punishment, high priest?" She seemed more scared than before.
"You were still disobedient. That we must do something about. You must learn how to follow orders. Please report to Brother Malbir. He has been informed as to your coming." He scribbled something on a piece of paper, folded it and sealed it. "Give this to him. It contains your mitigating circumstances. If you do not, it will be very hard on you." He handed her the piece of paper and waved her out of the room. Vender sat down as she closed the door behind her. People could be so stupid. This was a delicate plan, and they still talked to everyone who would stand still long enough to listen. He wondered whether Otta had these problems.
"Ask not what Corellon Larethian can do for you, ask what you can for Him! Follow His instructions, and He will continue to bless us. Fight against those that would threaten our fair and noble race. Abolish the liaisons that will have us mingle our blood with those of lesser races. Let us stand tall and vigilant against those that would weaken us. Remember the dark elves. They went too far in their dark and inappropriate acts, and they got banished to the everlasting dark, where they will perish forever regretting that they went against the word of our Lord Corellon Larethian. They followed a base and false god. Where is she now, the spider they revered and though would protect them? She got smote by Him who watches all elven-kind! Such is the power of our Lord. He will keep us safe, as long as we keep up what He has ordered us to do. Do not stray in your devotion to him, or you will end up like the dark elves, cast out into darkness and forever removed from His grace and mercy. He is patient, but even His patience runs out, so do not try it. Mend your ways before it too late!" High priestOtta's voice thundered through the aisles. The elves seated there bowed their heads devoutly and listened. It was a familiar sermon and they loved it all the more for that. When Otta finished a sea of murmurs rose up from the audience. It was one of acknowledgement and approval. People stood and applauded him. High priest Otta left the pulpit and retreated into the back of the church. It was too warm here. He wanted to back in his tower.
"High priest! High priest!" voices called out behind him.
He sighed and turned. "How may I help you today?" he said, smiling genially. The callers were elves from the audience. Husband and wife, from the way they walked together. They were dressed as artisans. When he looked carefully he could see sawdust on the man's trousers, and their hands were callused and rough.
"High priest, it is our daughter. We have discovered that she is seeing a...a...human." He spit out the last word.
"That is very serious. I can see why you came to me, bypassing all the lowly priest who after all are only trained in dealing with situations like this. Take me to her, and I will see what I can do that those highly-trained clerics can not." The sarcasm did not seem to register with the couple.
"Thank you, high priest, thank you." The parents took him out of the church and deep into the heart of the elven quarters. They stopped in front of a large and spacious house, so freshly built that the wood was still bleeding.
"You have moved in recently, I see?" Otta asked.
They nodded. "Yes, we are very recent arrivals. We heard about Larghain and after hearing you preach we decided to move here," the man said. His wife had said nothing the whole time. Otta approved of that. When men were talking, women were not needed.
"Is she home?"
"She should be. She is supposed to clean up the house," the father said. He opened the door and went in first. His wife brought up the rear. They stood in a wide hall, with a couple of doors leading off to other rooms. "Mira! Come out here! We have a guest!" her father yelled. Otta cringed a bit at the shouting. His ears hurt.
In the kitchen Mira dropped her mop. She hurried out into the hallway, a lithe blonde girl, and looked at the ground. There were wet stains on the front of her simple dress. "Yes, Father?" she asked in a small voice. "I was cleaning the kitchen. I was working, I was." She glanced at her father, and then at the ground again.
He shrugged. "That does not matter. We have brought your husband." Both the girl and Otta looked at him.
"Finally, Father?" she asked, hopefully.
"Husband?" Otta managed to say. "How do you mean? I do not know what you are talking about. I am leaving." He turned to leave and found the wife blocking the exit." Get out of my way." She shook her head and stayed standing there. Otta turned back to the man. "Tell your wife to clear the exit."
"I will not. You are my daughter's husband."
"Are you insane? I have never seen your daughter before. I can not be married to her, I have never agreed to that."
"You did not need to Corellon Larethian Himself blessed the union. What He has put together we can not sunder. He has said you are to wed my daughter. It it His will. Surely you would not go against the will of your god?"
"When has he said that?" Otta asked, trying to make more sense of what was happening. The man was obviously crazy.
"He has told me years ago, when He appeared to me in a dream. He told me that Mira was married by Him to a great priest in his service, and He handed me a certificate stating that." He pulled out a manuscript and handed it over to Otta. "Read it and accept your fate, high priest. You are married. Corellon Larethian has said you are."
Otta grabbed the manuscript and read it through carefully. In a mix of celestial and elven the manuscript did say what the father claimed it said. Otta was not convinced. The manuscript looked authentic, but it was not CorellonLarethian's style to run His followers' lives like this. He looked back at the father, and then at Mira.
She was still looking at the ground, her cheeks flushed. She clenched her hands together. She was hoping he would accept. The previous priests had found loopholes. She wanted to get out of the house. 'Please,' she thought. 'Take me away from here.' Daring to lift her head she caught him looking at her and dropped her eyes again.
Otta thought that she was not that bad-looking, but he could not be married on the word of a presumed lunatic. "Could you please leave us? I need a word with my wife, in private." Her father beamed, and her mother led them to the sitting-room. She closed the door behind them. "Your parents are richer than they look, to have a house like this. There is more money in day-labour tan I thought," Otta said, taking in the room. It was very spacious with a lot of light-coloured wood, and sparsely decorated. What decorations there were Otta appraised to be worth a lot of money.
"They have come into a lot of money after Corellon Larethian appeared to Father," Mira said. She gestured at the sofa. "Please, sit down...husband."
"Do you even know my name?" Otta asked, sitting down. He put the manuscript on the arm of the sofa. "What I do? Where I live? Who I am?"
"You are my husband. You are taking me away and making me live in your service. What else do I need to know, husband?" Mira replied.
Otta sighed. She was too docile. He liked women to know their place, but she was taking it too far. He did not want a golem of sorts. "Look at me. If we are married, then you can look at your husband. Look at me." He kept repeating it until she looked up. "Good. Look at me when we are talking. I am Otta, high priest at the church of Corellon Larethian."
Her eyes widened at that. "That high, husband? I never would have thought He would reward me this much. I have always been a devout follower, but I never expected this." She blushed. "I am sorry. I should not have said that." She looked down again.
"Verily, He has provided for you," Otta mumbled. He sat back and looked at the ceiling. He could not take her along. The plans did not allow for her. She would be a liability. He could not be married. He had lived alone for too long to be married now.
Mira was looking at the floor. She hoped he would take her away. "Please husband, can we leave now?"
"Why now?" He looked at her. "What is the hurry? Look at me, Mira."
She looked at him. "You do not want to be troubled with my problems, husband."
"My name is Otta. Tell me, Mira."
"That would not be proper unless we are alone, husband. I can not call you by your name now. Husband, we should go."
"We are alone."
"But we are still in my parents' house. Please, husband." Her eyes were begging him.
"We are not going until you tell me why we should. And be quick about it." He gave her a stern look.
"Husband we should leave now. My father, he is not with us completely, in his head. I am afraid he will do something rash. He has when my sisters got married."
"Rash how, Mira?"
"The scars will never fade, husband. That is why we must go. He will be fine after we have left. Please husband," she begged him.
"All right, we will leave. Come on. Do you need anything from here?"
"No, husband. I will be back for what I own later, when Father has had the time to adjust to the new situation." Mira watched him get up and take her arm.
"We will go then, and talk about this later," Otta said. With his free hand he picked up the manuscript and stuffed it in his pocket. "Let us say good bye to your parents." They walked out into the hallway. It was quiet. Too silent, Otta though, especially after what Mira had told him. "They do not seem to be here to wave their newly-wed daughter good bye. How very loving."
Mira looked nervous. She was so close to leaving. "Husband, please!"
There came running footsteps from the back of the house. "Where is the bastard who is taking my last daughter away from me? I will kill him!" they could hear someone yelling.
"We will send them a card. Come on, Mira." He could not leave her here with a crazed homicidal father on the loose. They ran to the door. Her father, brandishing a large knife, came into sight as Otta closed the door behind them. There was a dull 'thud!' as the knife hit the door on the inside.
"He did that to your sisters too?" Otta asked when they had stopped on the other side of the street. Her father did not pursue them.
"Yes, husband." Mira took a deep breath. She was out of there!
"I see. It is a good thing you do not have more siblings. Come on. The church is over there." He led her along by the arm. They aroused some curiosity from the people around them.
"Do you live there, husband?"
"No, I do not." He pointed at a tower behind the church. "That is where I live. But we need to see someone at the church first." He had to get out of this.
Arm in arm they walked to the church. Mira saw little of the streets, she was too full of being free of her father. She had lived in fear of him and his outbursts for too long. Now Corellon Larethian had given her a chance to escape and a good future. Her eyes got wide as she saw the church. "Husband, you work here? It is so beautiful. All those trees..."
"Hmn? Yes, I work here." He looked at the church. He had not for a long time. Slender trees made up the walls. Between them were grown smaller bushes and shrubs to keep the rain out. They were maintained daily. The roof was made up of the leaves of the trees. It was a single-story building. "It is rather pretty." 'In a wood-lice kind of way'. They entered the church. The leaves rustled about them, passing on messages of their own. Otta stopped an acolyte. "Where is BrotherBoduw?"
The acolyte looked admiringly at Mira. "In his room? Excuse me high priest, I do not know," he said. He walked off without waiting for his leave.
Otta clenched his jaw. Insolent little..."Come on Mira. We need to see Brother Boduw."
"Was he allowed to do that, husband? Walk off like that?" Mira asked.
"No. He will be disciplined later." They got to Brother Boduw's room. There was no door, and it was clear to see that he was in. "Brother Boduw, have you got a minute? I have a problem that I need to talk to you about," Otta said.
Brother Boduw looked up. "High priest. Please step inside. And you, miss."
Otta produced the manuscript. "Read this and tell me if it is authentic."
"Husband!" Mira protested. She dropped her eyes to the ground again after this outburst.
Brother Boduw managed not to let show that he had heard anything and took the manuscript from Otta. He glanced at it. "The languages seems to confirm it. Where did it originate?That would help my research."
"Her father claims that it was given to him by Corellon Larethian, hallowed be His name, and that He said that his daughter was to be wedded to me. Is this a real document?"
"The document is real, or else we would not be holding it. As to whether it is authentic, I can not say now. I need to research it more. It will take me some days. Will this inconvenience you, high priest?"
"I will deal with that. Please see what you can find out. Good day, Brother Boduw." Otta left the room. Mira dropped a curtsy before following him out of the room.
"Husband, where are we going now?"
"I am going home, and you are coming with me. And we will have to buy you some clothes. I am not going to send you back to your parents anytime soon,unless you want to end up as Mira-on-a-stick."
"Husband, please. They mean well."
"They are crazy, Mira. Attacking their son-in-laws is not the sign of a healthy and caring mind. Not to mention marrying off your daughter to some man she has never seen before."
"That is the will of Corellon Larethian. Are you saying you do not believe that, husband?" Mira asked. She was close to tears.
"I do believe that Corellon Larethian watches over us. I do not believe that He tries to run His followers' loves. Do you like that He tells you what to do?"
"That is the way it is, husband. Someone has to. I can not do so myself. I am a woman, I am not capable of that."
Otta sighed. She really was too docile. This would never work. "Come on. We are going home." They left the church.
His back and his head hurt. He did not want to be here. Kilak looked up to the small window in his cell. He knew that it would be barred. He had been locked up enough times that he did not need to climb up there to find out. Because a high priest always spoke the truth and and street-rats like him always lied, he had been beaten until he confessed he had been trying to steal the man's money. Which he had wanted to do, but sometimes you could get away by trying to pass as innocent. Kilak sighed. It would be use to try and break out. Elves were very good builders, when they put their minds to it. They could stand to learn something from thedwarves though, Kilak had found. Dwarves were the persons to go to when you wanted a prison no ordinary person could break out of. Even master-lockpickers would not want to go up against a dwarven-made lock. He wondered how they did it. Would their beards not get in the way? They did grow them long and full. Sitting down with his back against the wall Kilak stretched out his arms. He was no master-lockpicker, and he could not open even a very simple lock. For the moment he was stuck here. Until they decided to punish him. Kilak was not looking forward to that. It would be painful, he knew that. He had never run into people who did not treat him badly for one reason or another. Was there a target painted on his back? This city, Larghain, was one of the worst though. He had not seen many members of races other than elves or humans. That did not make him wonder much. He did not even have to do anything to get handed over to the proper authorities. Why were they so opposed to those smaller than they were? He rubbed his arms and shifted against the wall as his back acted up. He needed to get out of here.
The door opened and Rosa stood in the opening, arms in her sides. "You! Get here!" Kilak got up slowly and walked over to her. "Faster than that. Did I give you permission to dawdle?"
"No, ma'am," he said.
"That is what I thought. Now move." She marched out into the corridor in front of him. Kilak struggled to keep up with her, his back hurting so much that he could not walk veryfasr , and wondering what was going to happen to him. They rounded a corner. The agent Marlund was standing guard in front of the only door in this hallway. He nodded at Rosa, and ignored Kilak.The halfling did not care. He was used to being ignored. He was not used to not being threatened. That unnerved him. This was not how it was supposed to go. Young as he was he had been thrown into jail more times that he could remember, and threats were part of the life there. Whether they came from the guards, or from the fellow-prisoners. Both elves stood completely still, facing each other, as though listening to something only they could hear. After an indeterminable amount of time a signal of some kind came through and Marlund opened the door. Kilak got shoved through it. Before he could adjust what was inside the door got closed behind him. He really was in trouble now.
High priest Vender paced the room in front of the priest. She was young, brown-haired and freckled, and very scared right now. "Does the word 'secrecy mean anything to you? Does the word 'stealth'? 'We will bide our time'? Well?" He did not look at her. She looked at the carpet. "I asked you a question. Are you going to answer it? Or shall I? 'High priest Vender, I wanted to ruin all carefully prepared plans so I talked with those clerics who are not on our side'. You are very lucky I got the investigation, or else you would be talking to the church-inquisitors right now. And they are not gentle, as you might well know. Who have you told in your moment of brain-deadness?" He stopped pacing and looked at her. She cringed at his eyes. They were cold and unyielding. She mumbled under her breath. "What was that? There was so much noise when you took a breath that I could not hear what you said."
"I only told Brother Lucas, high priest. We are going out together, and I wanted to give him the opportunity to join us."
"How utterly romantic. And stupid. Nothing corrupts as easily as love. The boyfriends of today are the people who stab you in the back tomorrow. Remember that. How did he seem towards what you told him?"
"It was hard to say. He is not the most readable of people. He seemed open towards the idea."
"Then it was not a complete waste of time. Good," Vender said. "That will count in deciding your punishment, Sister."
"Punishment, high priest?" She seemed more scared than before.
"You were still disobedient. That we must do something about. You must learn how to follow orders. Please report to Brother Malbir. He has been informed as to your coming." He scribbled something on a piece of paper, folded it and sealed it. "Give this to him. It contains your mitigating circumstances. If you do not, it will be very hard on you." He handed her the piece of paper and waved her out of the room. Vender sat down as she closed the door behind her. People could be so stupid. This was a delicate plan, and they still talked to everyone who would stand still long enough to listen. He wondered whether Otta had these problems.
"Ask not what Corellon Larethian can do for you, ask what you can for Him! Follow His instructions, and He will continue to bless us. Fight against those that would threaten our fair and noble race. Abolish the liaisons that will have us mingle our blood with those of lesser races. Let us stand tall and vigilant against those that would weaken us. Remember the dark elves. They went too far in their dark and inappropriate acts, and they got banished to the everlasting dark, where they will perish forever regretting that they went against the word of our Lord Corellon Larethian. They followed a base and false god. Where is she now, the spider they revered and though would protect them? She got smote by Him who watches all elven-kind! Such is the power of our Lord. He will keep us safe, as long as we keep up what He has ordered us to do. Do not stray in your devotion to him, or you will end up like the dark elves, cast out into darkness and forever removed from His grace and mercy. He is patient, but even His patience runs out, so do not try it. Mend your ways before it too late!" High priestOtta's voice thundered through the aisles. The elves seated there bowed their heads devoutly and listened. It was a familiar sermon and they loved it all the more for that. When Otta finished a sea of murmurs rose up from the audience. It was one of acknowledgement and approval. People stood and applauded him. High priest Otta left the pulpit and retreated into the back of the church. It was too warm here. He wanted to back in his tower.
"High priest! High priest!" voices called out behind him.
He sighed and turned. "How may I help you today?" he said, smiling genially. The callers were elves from the audience. Husband and wife, from the way they walked together. They were dressed as artisans. When he looked carefully he could see sawdust on the man's trousers, and their hands were callused and rough.
"High priest, it is our daughter. We have discovered that she is seeing a...a...human." He spit out the last word.
"That is very serious. I can see why you came to me, bypassing all the lowly priest who after all are only trained in dealing with situations like this. Take me to her, and I will see what I can do that those highly-trained clerics can not." The sarcasm did not seem to register with the couple.
"Thank you, high priest, thank you." The parents took him out of the church and deep into the heart of the elven quarters. They stopped in front of a large and spacious house, so freshly built that the wood was still bleeding.
"You have moved in recently, I see?" Otta asked.
They nodded. "Yes, we are very recent arrivals. We heard about Larghain and after hearing you preach we decided to move here," the man said. His wife had said nothing the whole time. Otta approved of that. When men were talking, women were not needed.
"Is she home?"
"She should be. She is supposed to clean up the house," the father said. He opened the door and went in first. His wife brought up the rear. They stood in a wide hall, with a couple of doors leading off to other rooms. "Mira! Come out here! We have a guest!" her father yelled. Otta cringed a bit at the shouting. His ears hurt.
In the kitchen Mira dropped her mop. She hurried out into the hallway, a lithe blonde girl, and looked at the ground. There were wet stains on the front of her simple dress. "Yes, Father?" she asked in a small voice. "I was cleaning the kitchen. I was working, I was." She glanced at her father, and then at the ground again.
He shrugged. "That does not matter. We have brought your husband." Both the girl and Otta looked at him.
"Finally, Father?" she asked, hopefully.
"Husband?" Otta managed to say. "How do you mean? I do not know what you are talking about. I am leaving." He turned to leave and found the wife blocking the exit." Get out of my way." She shook her head and stayed standing there. Otta turned back to the man. "Tell your wife to clear the exit."
"I will not. You are my daughter's husband."
"Are you insane? I have never seen your daughter before. I can not be married to her, I have never agreed to that."
"You did not need to Corellon Larethian Himself blessed the union. What He has put together we can not sunder. He has said you are to wed my daughter. It it His will. Surely you would not go against the will of your god?"
"When has he said that?" Otta asked, trying to make more sense of what was happening. The man was obviously crazy.
"He has told me years ago, when He appeared to me in a dream. He told me that Mira was married by Him to a great priest in his service, and He handed me a certificate stating that." He pulled out a manuscript and handed it over to Otta. "Read it and accept your fate, high priest. You are married. Corellon Larethian has said you are."
Otta grabbed the manuscript and read it through carefully. In a mix of celestial and elven the manuscript did say what the father claimed it said. Otta was not convinced. The manuscript looked authentic, but it was not CorellonLarethian's style to run His followers' lives like this. He looked back at the father, and then at Mira.
She was still looking at the ground, her cheeks flushed. She clenched her hands together. She was hoping he would accept. The previous priests had found loopholes. She wanted to get out of the house. 'Please,' she thought. 'Take me away from here.' Daring to lift her head she caught him looking at her and dropped her eyes again.
Otta thought that she was not that bad-looking, but he could not be married on the word of a presumed lunatic. "Could you please leave us? I need a word with my wife, in private." Her father beamed, and her mother led them to the sitting-room. She closed the door behind them. "Your parents are richer than they look, to have a house like this. There is more money in day-labour tan I thought," Otta said, taking in the room. It was very spacious with a lot of light-coloured wood, and sparsely decorated. What decorations there were Otta appraised to be worth a lot of money.
"They have come into a lot of money after Corellon Larethian appeared to Father," Mira said. She gestured at the sofa. "Please, sit down...husband."
"Do you even know my name?" Otta asked, sitting down. He put the manuscript on the arm of the sofa. "What I do? Where I live? Who I am?"
"You are my husband. You are taking me away and making me live in your service. What else do I need to know, husband?" Mira replied.
Otta sighed. She was too docile. He liked women to know their place, but she was taking it too far. He did not want a golem of sorts. "Look at me. If we are married, then you can look at your husband. Look at me." He kept repeating it until she looked up. "Good. Look at me when we are talking. I am Otta, high priest at the church of Corellon Larethian."
Her eyes widened at that. "That high, husband? I never would have thought He would reward me this much. I have always been a devout follower, but I never expected this." She blushed. "I am sorry. I should not have said that." She looked down again.
"Verily, He has provided for you," Otta mumbled. He sat back and looked at the ceiling. He could not take her along. The plans did not allow for her. She would be a liability. He could not be married. He had lived alone for too long to be married now.
Mira was looking at the floor. She hoped he would take her away. "Please husband, can we leave now?"
"Why now?" He looked at her. "What is the hurry? Look at me, Mira."
She looked at him. "You do not want to be troubled with my problems, husband."
"My name is Otta. Tell me, Mira."
"That would not be proper unless we are alone, husband. I can not call you by your name now. Husband, we should go."
"We are alone."
"But we are still in my parents' house. Please, husband." Her eyes were begging him.
"We are not going until you tell me why we should. And be quick about it." He gave her a stern look.
"Husband we should leave now. My father, he is not with us completely, in his head. I am afraid he will do something rash. He has when my sisters got married."
"Rash how, Mira?"
"The scars will never fade, husband. That is why we must go. He will be fine after we have left. Please husband," she begged him.
"All right, we will leave. Come on. Do you need anything from here?"
"No, husband. I will be back for what I own later, when Father has had the time to adjust to the new situation." Mira watched him get up and take her arm.
"We will go then, and talk about this later," Otta said. With his free hand he picked up the manuscript and stuffed it in his pocket. "Let us say good bye to your parents." They walked out into the hallway. It was quiet. Too silent, Otta though, especially after what Mira had told him. "They do not seem to be here to wave their newly-wed daughter good bye. How very loving."
Mira looked nervous. She was so close to leaving. "Husband, please!"
There came running footsteps from the back of the house. "Where is the bastard who is taking my last daughter away from me? I will kill him!" they could hear someone yelling.
"We will send them a card. Come on, Mira." He could not leave her here with a crazed homicidal father on the loose. They ran to the door. Her father, brandishing a large knife, came into sight as Otta closed the door behind them. There was a dull 'thud!' as the knife hit the door on the inside.
"He did that to your sisters too?" Otta asked when they had stopped on the other side of the street. Her father did not pursue them.
"Yes, husband." Mira took a deep breath. She was out of there!
"I see. It is a good thing you do not have more siblings. Come on. The church is over there." He led her along by the arm. They aroused some curiosity from the people around them.
"Do you live there, husband?"
"No, I do not." He pointed at a tower behind the church. "That is where I live. But we need to see someone at the church first." He had to get out of this.
Arm in arm they walked to the church. Mira saw little of the streets, she was too full of being free of her father. She had lived in fear of him and his outbursts for too long. Now Corellon Larethian had given her a chance to escape and a good future. Her eyes got wide as she saw the church. "Husband, you work here? It is so beautiful. All those trees..."
"Hmn? Yes, I work here." He looked at the church. He had not for a long time. Slender trees made up the walls. Between them were grown smaller bushes and shrubs to keep the rain out. They were maintained daily. The roof was made up of the leaves of the trees. It was a single-story building. "It is rather pretty." 'In a wood-lice kind of way'. They entered the church. The leaves rustled about them, passing on messages of their own. Otta stopped an acolyte. "Where is BrotherBoduw?"
The acolyte looked admiringly at Mira. "In his room? Excuse me high priest, I do not know," he said. He walked off without waiting for his leave.
Otta clenched his jaw. Insolent little..."Come on Mira. We need to see Brother Boduw."
"Was he allowed to do that, husband? Walk off like that?" Mira asked.
"No. He will be disciplined later." They got to Brother Boduw's room. There was no door, and it was clear to see that he was in. "Brother Boduw, have you got a minute? I have a problem that I need to talk to you about," Otta said.
Brother Boduw looked up. "High priest. Please step inside. And you, miss."
Otta produced the manuscript. "Read this and tell me if it is authentic."
"Husband!" Mira protested. She dropped her eyes to the ground again after this outburst.
Brother Boduw managed not to let show that he had heard anything and took the manuscript from Otta. He glanced at it. "The languages seems to confirm it. Where did it originate?That would help my research."
"Her father claims that it was given to him by Corellon Larethian, hallowed be His name, and that He said that his daughter was to be wedded to me. Is this a real document?"
"The document is real, or else we would not be holding it. As to whether it is authentic, I can not say now. I need to research it more. It will take me some days. Will this inconvenience you, high priest?"
"I will deal with that. Please see what you can find out. Good day, Brother Boduw." Otta left the room. Mira dropped a curtsy before following him out of the room.
"Husband, where are we going now?"
"I am going home, and you are coming with me. And we will have to buy you some clothes. I am not going to send you back to your parents anytime soon,unless you want to end up as Mira-on-a-stick."
"Husband, please. They mean well."
"They are crazy, Mira. Attacking their son-in-laws is not the sign of a healthy and caring mind. Not to mention marrying off your daughter to some man she has never seen before."
"That is the will of Corellon Larethian. Are you saying you do not believe that, husband?" Mira asked. She was close to tears.
"I do believe that Corellon Larethian watches over us. I do not believe that He tries to run His followers' loves. Do you like that He tells you what to do?"
"That is the way it is, husband. Someone has to. I can not do so myself. I am a woman, I am not capable of that."
Otta sighed. She really was too docile. This would never work. "Come on. We are going home." They left the church.