Garren had been awake for several hours and lay staring at his ceiling, images of the girl running through his mind. He couldn't quite summon anger, his apprehension continuing from the night before. He rubbed his arm tenderly; the red marks had almost dissipated. He should have killed her when he had the chance and yet, as the words formed in his head, he felt sick, his stomach knotting at the thought. He ran his hands through his hair.
"Enough," he murmured, rising from his bed to dress. When he'd finished, he made his way to the sanctuary.
It was empty. Black stones laid on the floors and walls. The cherry wood pews were inlaid with intricate white stone designs. The walls bore several large stained glass windows depicting scenes from when Ciara first entered Middengard. A likeness of Saint Erebus knelt in front of a large white dragon. When Ciara was shown in that form, her body was outlined in bright silver, her scales iridescent.
Garren began to whisper prayers as he approached the altar and knelt, feverishly reciting as many verses from the sacred epistles as he could. Suddenly, he jerked his head up. It had been a test. He looked around at the various depictions of Ciara, some human, some animal, and felt regret wash over him. He'd failed her. That had to be what was tormenting him.
He lay completely prostrate before the altar and was perfectly still, chanting a prayer of repentance. But while he'd started the prayer with conviction, he began to doubt his assumption more and more with every word that passed his lips. If she were indeed Ciara, it would certainly explain his affinity for her, but how could she have expected him to kill her? A picture briefly crossed his mind of his mouth touching hers and he recoiled. He squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to refocus himself. Trial or not, he'd failed both the Laionai and the Goddess by having mercy on an Adorian.
Did she not know she was Adorian?
It made no difference whether she'd been abandoned in the world of man or not, Garren argued with himself. Adorian blood still flowed through her veins.
I love but her and her alone. The words weighed as stones in his head. He could still see Tadraem's face as he'd said them.
"And what, my Lord, are you repentant of?"
Garren didn't move, convinced that he'd fallen so deep into his mind as to audibly hear his thoughts, until Tadraem stepped close enough to nudge him with the toe of his boot.
"I have been watching you pray in this manner for over two hours now."
"Has it been that long? I didn't see you when I came in."
Tadraem sat in one of the pews beside Garren. "I was in the back, you wouldn't have noticed me. You needn't suffer in silence, Garren, I have no need to compete for your position. I've waited many years to be High Priest. Whatever burden you are carrying is not yours to carry alone."
Garren raised himself from the ground and sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, his back against the end of the opposite pew.
"I have committed a sin," Garren said, watching Tadraem's expression darken. He lowered his head and took a deep breath before continuing. "The girl you saw me pursue into the woods in Palingard wasn't human. I had my sword in the air, no opposition, and yet I couldn't strike her. I heard the Moriors coming and left her in hiding. I released her, Tadraem – an Adorian."
Tadraem was still for a time. "An Adorian female in Middengard is unlikely. How do you know she was not human?"
Garren looked up from the floor. "I couldn't take her soul. The only other possibility is that the Goddess was testing me."
Tadraem shook his head. "She would not have done so. Your reputation alone speaks for itself. The girl could have had a spell of protection about her, though I've never met an Adorian with such privilege. If she was of noble blood, perhaps?"
Garren furrowed his brows in disbelief.
Tadraem continued. "There are legends of Adorians who have such powers. I cannot say for certain, but considering their secrecy, it wouldn't be unimaginable. If a female had been allowed to enter Middengard, it would seem reasonable. I can't imagine why she would have been there, though, particularly considering the Adorians were aware of our advances on Palingard. Anyway, the spell could not have been strong enough to make the girl invincible, but it would have been enough to affect your judgment."
Garren wondered if it had been prudent to speak with Tadraem at all. Something felt wrong about the High Priest's reaction, though he couldn't say what. He decided it would be unwise to divulge that she'd continued to plague him.
"Did my father ever speak like this to you?" Garren knew as soon as he'd asked that he shouldn't have.
"Why do you ask?"
"You spoke of my mother once, years ago. That you knew her well – "
"Garren, I never knew your mother, you know this. What's this occasion that you speak of?"
Garren suddenly felt like the floor had been pulled from beneath him and he placed his hands, palms down, at his sides. "I was but a boy, playing in the south woods, when you came to me. We walked to the falls and you spoke of my father. You said that I reminded you of him. I must've made the assumption then that you knew my mother as well."
"That's all that I said to you?"
"You asked me not to bother you with such questions," Garren lied. "I was probably asking you things that would seem trite to an adult – it wasn't important enough for you to remember. "
Tadraem sat back and seemed to be satisfied with Garren's answer, but he was sometimes difficult to read. "Don't concern yourself anymore with this incident. The girl is of no importance. You've followed your orders from the Laionai and pleased Ciara. Nothing else is of any substance.
"I have prayed to the Goddess and it has been decided that Aiden will also be wed. Considering his wayward attitude as of late, it is more than charitable. This will at least give him something to occupy his time. I feel it should be you who chooses his intended." Tadraem rose from his seat.
"Do you think I'm ready for what is ahead?"
Tadraem turned to face Garren. "My Lord, you have always been ready. You're nothing like your father. I cannot imagine what would have possessed me to say such a thing to you. His weaknesses are your strengths. He had little faith and lost his life because of it. He questioned his beliefs and it led to his eventual ruin."
"He lost his life on the battlefield, at the hands of an Adorian – you've told me so yourself, many times."
Tadraem walked back toward the center aisle. "He did lose his life because of an Adorian. He died because of Michael's father. There was little choice for us."
Garren's chest tightened as Tadraem spoke, and he almost didn't ask – but he clung momentarily to the hope that it would not be so.
"You turned him over to the Moriors?" Garren clenched his teeth.
Tadraem stepped closer, but stopped as Garren held out his hand. "Garren, you would have done the same. Don't let familial ties cloud your perception. He had the opportunity to do Ciara a great service but he chose instead to aide Gabriel in defeating some of our own men. It was treason in its most elementary form."
"What is the difference between what my father did and what I have done?" Garren crossed his arms over his chest.
"There is much difference, Garren. You are on your face, begging repentance for something that wasn't in your control, whereas your father intentionally led our forces into harm's way. You are Aiden's friend, yet it didn't stop you from doing what needed to be done to continue in the faith. He stepped out of line and you corrected him as you had to. You and I are not so different."
Garren felt ill. "Perhaps not," he said, forcing a smile. "As always, I value your council and your friendship."
Tadraem bowed his head. "Thank you, my Lord. I am blessed to be in your favor." He turned on his heels and ducked out of the doorway, leaving Garren alone in the sanctuary.
Garren felt a chill run across his flesh as he considered his father's death. Tadraem could have killed him more mercifully than the Moriors; he wondered if Tadraem's condemnation had been warranted. If Tadraem had seen his father becoming more powerful than he, as his commander, he would've felt threatened. It would've been far too easy to make up lies. He couldn't fathom his father having sympathies for Adoria.