It was neigh on midnight as Ector Aterian paced the length of his great hall supported by fourteen stout stone columns arranged beside two hearths. Antique tapestries hung between the columns illuminated by several lamp chandeliers that also kept Ectors shadow largely in check.

Ector dressed with more taste than might be expected from a young lord in his early twenties. All his garments were tailored towards tradition with only a few modern adornments, such as the broad silver livery collar new nobles wore these days. Ectors steps echoed into the open rafters of the high ceiling as he stared at his toes unconsciously counting tiles. There were exactly twenty three steps between the entry doors and the lords table with one thousand three hundred and seventy two tiles making up the floor.

Awareness of these numbers came naturally to Ector. His tutors trained him at an early age to always examine and analyze his surroundings to keep his overly agitated mind focused. He was a fussy kid, prone to boredom and puerile outbursts stemming from loneliness as an only child. The walls of his manor might as well be the walls of his own mind, so familiar was he with every part of it.

When the doors opened behind him there was a slight change in air pressure as the hearths sucked in the draft. Ector paused mid-step, hands clasped behind his back and cocked his head around to see his older cousin Eran grinning at him. Eran was half a head taller than Ector with the heavy build of a warrior knight dressed in a chain mail hauberk would with a heavy broadsword on his hip.

"Can't sleep cousin?" Eran asked.

Ector shrugged and faced him as Eran continued. "Tomorrow you will be married!" To which Ector simply nodded, prepared for Erans meaty hands to grasp him by the arms and shake him playfully. "Damn it Ector does nothing get you excited?!"

Ector was not put off by his older cousins familiarity. Eran always enjoyed trying to goad a reaction out of him ever since they met on the training grounds of their youth.

"It's good to see you cousin..." Ector said flashing the slimmest of smiles. "You look tired. Let us retire to my study where we can relax with a drink."

Eran nodded and spoke as they walked. "I received news of your wedding two months ago, but the letter itself may have taken that long to find me. As you know I have been fighting to protect our families interests on Mgorongoro."

"You look tan, and fit." Ector observed as they began to ascend a stairwell to the third floor of his tower. "How dangerous is Mgorongoro these days?"

Eran harrumphed. "As dangerous as ever! The Mgorongorons are as fierce and unpredictable as wild beasts. And speaking of wild beasts, their actual wild beasts are truly to be feared. Have you ever seen a lion the size of a horse cousin?"

"That would be something. I have been to Mgorongoro before but only so far as the port of Cremon, I did not venture into the interior." Ector replied.

"It is the closest thing to Hell on Sion." Eran chuckled. "However I missed Chival, I appreciate this opportunity for a holiday."

As they reached his study Ector paused to instruct the guard by the door to send for a servant before they entered. Ectors study was a square room twenty feet to a side with two tall glass windows and a small fireplace flanked by two high backed chairs before a heavy desk. Eran accepted a seat and immediately kept talking.

"Tell me about your bride Ector? She is a Mordhel I hear, her name is Morfia yes?"

"Correct, she is the daughter of Hrassus Mordhel, a prominant merchant lord who is also a brother of the Baron Mordhel. We started doing business together last year, which is when I first met Morfia."

"And its taken this long before he gave you his blessing to marry her?" Eran asked with a wry grin.

"Actually no, I decided to marry her after just a few months, we really took a liking to each other right away."

"Good for you cousin!" Eran said reaching over to grasp Ectors shoulder. Just then a knock was heard before a servant entered, her sleepy eyes downcast.

"Get a fire going." Ector said before he kept speaking to Eran unconcerned about the extra ears. "For once in my life I feel blessed. I felt like I had never wanted anything before I met her. She truly is a wonder."

Eran smiled. "Your lucky, many of us do not get to marry for love."

"Nor could I, without working very hard to make her father happy first."

"And what of our family?" Eran asked.

Ector snorted. "That was the hardest thing. I was not aware of it but there were plans in place to marry me to someone else."

"Who?"

Ector waved his hand. "That doesn't matter now. I got my way, and this marriage will be beneficial to both our families."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"What does aunt Helvethia think?" Eran asked prompting a groan from Ector.

"She has me at my wits end. She is staunchly against this, and forced me to use every chit and favor I had in counterbalance."

"Is she here?"

"She is occupying my mothers former chambers." Ector said icily.

"I'm sorry Ector. I wish your parents were still alive to see your wedding." To which Ector nodded curtly clenching his jaw. By now there were flames in the hearth so Ector asked to servant to fetch wine.

"Do you think Morfia will enjoy life here in Hacilar?"

"I think so. Like me, she is an only child, and she also lost her mother to sickness. I know she has longed to have her own home away from her father, though he is a good man."

"Do you share anything in common with her?" Eran asked but than quickly apologized. "I'm sorry that was a silly question."

"Why should that be a silly question?"

"Because cousin, she is just a woman and you are a lord."

"Nonsense." Ector said matter-of-factly. "Women can be just as educated and wise as we are." Perhaps more so than you Ector did not say. "Morfia is both learned and talented. She will be of great help to me, as she has been to her father who raised her like the son he never had."

The men paused as two goblets and an ewer of wine was placed on a small chair side table. "Leave us." Ector said filling a goblet for each of them.

"This is fine wine. Parcean?" Eran asked and Ector nodded.

"I spared no expense. There are thirty casks of it being served at the wedding tomorrow."

"What else can I expect at the wedding?" Eran asked his eyes a twinkle.

"Oh no, I know what that look means. You've been under the sun too long away from women." Ector scolded.

"You wound me!" Eran said lifting a hand to his heart in mock concern. "I would never embarrass you at your own wedding."

"That's good to hear after what you did at cousin Luda's wedding." Ector said.

Eran nearly spit wine as he started to laugh. "You remember that? You were not even in your teens yet."

"My memory of that event will not soon leave my mind. I had not yet lost my virginity but you were well on your way past yours. I remember you were late for the ceremony so they sent me to find you, and find you I did rutting with a camp-side tramp in my own tent."

"I don't suppose you ever told anyone about that?" Eran asked.

Ector shook his head. "No, it helped that you gave me a gold piece to hold my tongue."

Eran chuckled. "Bribes are not so cheap when we get older eh?" A thick knot popped loudly in the hearth distracting both men and set Ector on a new train of thought.

"The wedding is being held at the great cathedral of St. Vespasian overseen by archbishop Bohemond."

Eran raised his brows impressed. "It shall be very grand."

Ector frowned. "It's the last place I would choose." Eran opened his mouth to ask why but Ector raised his hand for pause. "Tell me Eran, do you know me to be religious?"

Eran looked at Ector for a moment before he shifted his eyes into the flames pondering his response. Ector had always been dour and moody for the most part, impatient with those of lesser intelligence and largely unconcerned with what others thought about him or anything else. Yet this time, Eran sensed Ector was genuinely troubled by this question. "I have never known you to be a heathen, if that's what your asking?"

Ector shook his head. "That is an entirely different question. To be a heathen one must forsake the faith of Pentos. To be religious one must embrace it. I do neither."

Eran shrugged. "You are not the first to take the middle road. I doubt the inquisition could afford to condemn everyone who did. Especially when they are a lord, so why the concern?"

"It is the archbishop. I despise him and he probably has it in for me."

Eran furrowed his brow. "I see. I have never met him, what can you tell me about him?"

Ector paused to upend his goblet and fill it again. "Swear to me you will keep this conversation private. I have not spoken of this before to anyone."

"Of course Ector."

Ector took in a deep breath before he spoke. "Back when he was a bishop Bohemond used to take confession from my mother here in the manor. There is a hidden alcove here in our chapel. I hid there to eavesdrop and that's when I realized Bohemond is everything a priest should not be. Insincere, arrogant, aloof, disrespectful, crude, and above all greedy.

He was always trying to succor donations from my mother while my father was away. After they died he poached many of their business partners here in Hacilar choking funds away from this manor. I locked horns with him when I returned wrestling back what belonged to me ever since.

The man is my nemesis. A scheming, grasping disgrace to his church."

"Strong words. Sacrilegious even, I can see why you swore me to secrecy. But what do you fear he may do at your wedding? Surrounded by everyone who supports you in a very public ceremony?"

Ector sighed. "I do not know. I admit it does not seem rational. But I feel a warning deep in my gut that has kept me out of his cathedral these many years."

"Did you have any say in holding the wedding there?"

"Very little. You know better than to ask cousin. A high profile marriage between two noble families is a serious affair no less diplomatic than a formal truce. It has to be given credence by the highest religious authority in the land. Anything less would be unacceptable to our families.

I could outmaneuver Bohemond if I married Morfia in Estremadura, but that would be a reverse in custom and the gossip would reduce our families to the laughingstock of Chival."

Eran nodded. "Aye you have the right of it."

Ector upended his goblet again and sighed. "I may yet be a heathen Eran if my prayers are answered and a meteor descends on the dawn obliterating St. Vespasians cathedral and the archbishop before the ceremony."

Eran smirked. "You do yourself no favors uttering such things. Come the morning you must play the role of a religious man. Your future depends on it."

"A necessary evil." Ector said refilling his goblet. "I tell you Eran I would almost rather elope with Morfia to a distant land were it not so cowardly. There are two demons vying for my fate cousin. One is love, the other pride."

For a minute neither spoke as the flames whispered and spit like the mouth of hell mocking them. Finally Eran asked the question Ector knew he would.

"How can I help?"

"Just remember what I told you. If something happens tomorrow it is my belief that Bohemond is behind it." Ector answered.

"I don't understand? If something happens..."

"...It will already be too late." Ector interrupted finishing Erans sentence. "I realize that, but it is never too late for revenge."

Eran nodded but said nothing, and Ector cocked his head in the peculiar way he did when he was about to ask an obdurate question but then seemed to think better of it. "We should get some rest. I have wine enough in me now to manage sleep."