Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [58]
“You,” Gerard growled. “I might have known.”
“It is good to see you, too, my friend,” said Rhys.
Gerard opened his mouth, then shut it again. His face flushed redder. He looked ashamed and reached out his hand to clasp Rhys’s hand and give it a remorseful shake.
“Forgive me. It is good to see you, Brother.” Gerard gave Rhys a rueful smile. “It’s just whenever there’s trouble involving the gods, you always seem to turn up.”
Rhys was trying to think how to answer this, but Gerard didn’t wait for a reply.
“Have you had breakfast?” The sheriff sounded and looked tired. “I’m on my way to the Inn. You could join me.” He glanced around. “Where’s your friend Nightshade? And Atta? Nothing’s happened to them, has it?”
“They are both fine. They are at the Inn. I just came from there. I was on my way to the Temple of Majere to pay my respects, but I saw the turmoil and I find you here. You say there has been trouble. What happened?”
“Only a small riot,” said Gerard dryly. “There’s been discord brewing for some time now. The clerics and priests of all the gods have started snarling and snapping at each other like dogs over a bone. This morning a cleric of Chemosh got into a knock-down drag-out with a priest of Zeboim. Supporters from both sides rushed to help, and before long there was a pitched battle. To make matters worse, three of Kiri-Jolith’s paladins took it upon themselves to try to break up the fight. At the sight of the paladins, the clerics of Zeboim and Chemosh stopped fighting each other and turned on the paladins. That brought the clerics of Mishakal to their aid. And since Reorx’s worshippers like nothing better than a good brawl, they got into it, whaling on anyone they could find.
“Finally, that got boring, apparently, and someone suggested this was all Gilean’s fault and they should set fire to his temple. They were headed that direction with torches blazing when I arrived with my guards. We cracked a few heads and arrested the rest and that ended the altercation. I’ll let the holy fathers cool their heels in jail, then set them loose with a fine for disturbing the peace and destruction of property.”
“How did the fight start?” Rhys asked. “Do you know what the quarrel was about?”
“The clerics of Chemosh refused to say. Creepy bastards. I think it was a mistake to allow them to build a temple here, but Palin Majere insisted that it is not up to us to decree which gods people choose to worship. He said that so long as Chemosh’s clerics and followers don’t break the law they can have their temple. So far, they’ve behaved. Chemosh’s clerics haven’t been raising the dead or raiding graveyards—at least that I know of.
“As for Zeboim, her priests were eager to talk. They’re telling everyone that Chemosh is trying to take over as leader of the Gods of Darkness. What beats me is that all the clerics, even those of Kiri-Jolith, harbor resentment against Gilean. I have no idea why. His Aesthetics never take their noses out of their books.”
Gerard eyed Rhys. “For months, these priests and clerics have gone about their business peacefully enough and then within the space of a fortnight, they’re at each other’s throats. And now you show up. You’re personally acquainted with Zeboim. Something’s amiss in Heaven. What is it—another War of Souls?”
Rhys was silent.
“Uh, huh. I knew it.” Gerard heaved a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I would, my friend, and gladly, but it is extremely complicated—”
“More complicated than the goddess hauling you off to fight a death knight?” Gerard asked, half-joking and half-not.
“I’m afraid so,” said Rhys. “In fact, I am on my way to discuss the situation with the Abbot of my order to seek his advice and counsel. If you would like to accompany me—”
Gerard shook his head emphatically. “No thank you, Brother. I’ve had my fill of priests today. You go pray, and