Blades were readied, and challenges called as men prepared for blood. William's hand went to his own sword, eagerly seeking to slay Cirithil if it came to it. Yet Vorn caught his hand as the guards near Cirithil readied their weapons. Cirithil stood there looking dead with a smile.

"Stop!" said Arthur, and everyone did.

William lowered his sword, as did Felix. Jehair's scythe was lowered as Massacre growled.

Finally, Lord Arthur moved forward: "High Priest Cirithil, you are not arresting anyone. Let alone a member of my family."

"He has attempted to sabotage the church," said Cirithil, his voice soft. "He has associated with demons such as Arraxia. He has also worked with worshippers of Fortenex.

"Because of this, I name him a heretic. He will be interrogated for information about his demonic master, Arraxia. Resist, and you are no ally of Elranor."

"Hardly," said Coalmarsh, who had a mace in hand. "You are no servant of Elranor. Kill him, Lord Arthur! Put him out of the misery of his victims!"

"I have a legal right to arrest him," said Cirithil. "And my grounds are just. He has had, by his own admission, an association with demons."

"Were you another man, I might consider your claims to have some merit," said Arthur. "But you are a murderer and worse. I will nor give you my nephew."

Cirithil did not respond; his face was silent. "Very well then.

"If you insist on siding with a heretic, I cannot stop you. Nevertheless, the damage done to my property must be restored. I am hereby standing on my right to call on these people for service to the church.

"You will retrieve the church's property that you have wantonly destroyed."

Silence.

Vorn looked to the wagons. "What property? What are you talking about?"

"Those wagons," said Cirithil stated. "Are necessary for many business deals that the church will make. The money within them will be used for matters beyond your expertise. You will retrieve it."

"Go to hell," said Vorn. "If you want to race around dangerous corners, that's your business."

"This is a sacred task," said Cirithil, looking solemn. Was this the same man?

"What's our cut?" asked Vorn flatly. "These men I've called up have already done a lot of labor getting your priests out. They're dog-tired, and I've got one or two vendettas with you already."

Murmurs of agreement.

"Vorn," said Lord Arthur. "You ill become your rank. Cirithil is not my friend, but the High Priest remains the Head of the Church. It is his property, and it is within his rights to ask for the services of the local nobility."

Silence.

Rundas looked uneasily. "Your grace, perhaps a demonstration of humility on our part, could help prevent a conflict."

Cirithil considers this a moment.

"Do so," said Cirithil.

And so began another labor. It was long, bitter, and hard as men struggled to get the huge carts out. And Cirithil insisted they get the carts out, not just the money. He and his priests stood by and did nothing while it continued, calling for food and wine. Neither of which were brought to them. Vorn and Coalmarsh stood across from there, glaring in hatred at Cirithil.

William helped with the labor, and his strength was useful. But some of the carriages broke down, and once or twice, men were seriously hurt. William healed them each time, but it was difficult. He felt that Cirithil was finally using his power alongside that of the priest. And they were using it to interfere with him.

They wanted Willam to fail, even if it meant failing themselves.

Every moment dragged on in a way that it never had before. Every tiny pain was like a lifetime of agony. Each time they pulled and pushed and got a wagon out, there was no thanks. Cirithil just stood there without expression.

Watching the desperation and labor of these people.

Vorn wasn't any use in physical labor, but he spent time talking with merchants who went by. This infuriated Cirithil. He became more infuriated as Arthur had several firm conversations. Many people were just as concerned about things as everyone else. So now, what could have been a crisis had been averted, or so William guessed.

Tef proved to be a major asset. William was amazed at the strength that was within her paws. And she had a balance like nothing he'd seen, able to stand on slippery surfaces and keep balance. Often, she'd grab a rope and bound it down to the marshes, balancing on the carriages and tying it down.

But that did not make things any less miserable for William or the people working here. Because they'd only gotten a few out. And by the time they finished, even with the guards. Everyone was drenched in sweat, and several people had been injured at least once. Nobody had realized how easy things had been with Tef.

That may have been because of the nature of the task.

"This is the worst work I've ever had taking carriages out," said a man.

"You do this often?" asked William.

"Yes," said the man, hauling on a rope with him. "You see, this bend has always been sharp. So, every so often, someone comes by too fast and falls off it. Vorn put together a task whose main purpose was to rescue people who fell in.

"We're part of it."

"Not how I wanted to spend my time in the city guard," said a grizzled veteran. "But, better than leaving them."

"And what are you doing out here?" asked William.

"Cirithil said he'd been menaced and attacked by a noble," said the veteran. "Told us to arrest him. Authority is a gray area, but we were going to do it.

"At least until he changed his mind.

"Was it you?"

William told him the short version of the story. This got a general laugh from most of the people present, and Cirithil did not show any emotion at all. Just stood there as though he were a statue in the rain. Those eyes really did seem something from Diabolus, and he had said nothing while they worked.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

A strange thing began to happen as they worked. The priests who broke with Cirithil to help with the work gradually seemed to change. Rundas was among them, though he was reluctant. Though there was no physical look, you began to see them as a person. Before, they'd sort of meshed into a crowd behind Cirithil. William only thought of Joffrey or Rundas when looking for them.

Like they were a set of knives on a belt. But not you could see them as human, a mortal beings with a divine spark. As the filth got all over them like it did everyone else, that spark seemed to be rekindled. Their eyes were no longer empty.

But the priests like Joffrey and the others who stayed with Cirithil changed, too. The more you looked at them, the harder it was to pick them out of the crowd. Joffrey could be identified if you looked for the clothes he was wearing. Or a particular facial expression or feature that was unique to him. But you couldn't look for Joffrey or the others. Their expressions became ever more hateful and twisted.

Somehow, they did it without physically changing, and soon, no one dared look at them. Instead, they instinctively looked away from the priests or looked past their shoulders. Everyone, except Vorn, met Cirithil's gaze head-on while organizing. Cirithil looked right back, and there was real hatred there. Obviously, this was not the first time they had clashed.

William realized he had finished telling his story, and the men laughed.

"Got chased out of every brothel in Antion," laughed the guard. "I'm Tombs, by the way."

The mirth was short-lived. Somehow, everything became worse still, and the effort continued. Desperately, they strove to get everything out while the oxen munched happily.

At least someone was having a good time, even if Cirithil was not paying attention.

Was this some kind of harvest?

Was the devil reaping the seeds long planted that had flowered? And who was the wheat?

"It's done," said Tombs. "Everything is out."

"But is all the money out?" asked Cirithil, relatively calm for one surrounded by armed men who hated him. "All of it must be retrieved."

Checking the carriage, they determined that some chests of gold had fallen out. And so the men spent another miserable day diving into a swamp, looking for treasure. Vorn arranged for water and medical treatment. The sun beat down on them, and Cirithil looked in a particularly good mood.

Vorn wiped the sweat from his brow. "Well, it's settled.

"We headed it off, and the flocks are safe. We're also posting a couple of guards on them. Just in case anyone gets ideas of breaking the agreement."

"Does Cirithil know?" asked William.

"He doesn't know anything," said Vorn. "He's an idiot.

"I'm sure Coalmarsh has only the best intentions, but there's no demonic possession here. Just a rotten, spoiled brat with too much money and no sense of how to use it."

"I wish I believed you," said William. "But I think there might be something to it-"

"There isn't, kid," said Vorn. "You see demonic possession because Cirithil is a really terrible person. You have good ideas about how a priest or paladin should behave, and Cirithil hates you.

"He's a complete disgrace, but you don't want to believe that any priest could be this bad. But you haven't grown up with it like I have. So, you look for some kind of explanation for it. And since you are in touch with the spirit world, you start to see one.

"The truth, Will, is that some people are just terrible. And some people start out terrible and get worse if nobody can stop them. Nobody could stop Cirithil, so now he's such slime that nobody can believe he exists.

"Don't look for demonic possession when pure, simple, human evil works just fine."

William nodded and said no more.

Finally, they began to hoist the boxes of upward treasure individually. Two came up without incident, but then one broke.

"All of it must be retrieved," said Cirithil. "All of it."

And the priests laughed. Most were having a fine time, though not all of them. Those who actually began to help with the work were a great asset. They minded injuries and helped with the rope-pulling. They were often cut or made filthy, and some fled behind Cirithil. But others stayed and continued to become alive.

But the work was still miserable. People had to look through the muck and dirt for every scrap of coin they could. Some went blind and had to be healed, and Jehair could do only so much. And when they looked everywhere near the shore, Cirithil ordered the search to expand.

"Every bit of the church's property must be retrieved," said Cirithil, voice soft.

One or two did so anyway, and the demon's influence faded.

"I think I understand your perspective better, Vorn," said William, despising the work. "These men are worthy of praise as much as any soldier."

"Well, you said it, not me," said Vorn. "Am I even in the right country?"

It was a fair question.

Harlenorians, whose core principle was strength and self-determination, now slaved away. All at the behest of a collection of fat and weak bullies. The priests who stood with Cirithil were like children, only they were adults. Forty to fifty in many cases, with Cirithil being the youngest and the person they wanted to be.

"Keep it up, lads," called Joffrey, empty-eyed as always. Rundas grimaced as he helped pull a man out of the mud with the cargo.

Mocking the very people they relied on. Though achieving vengeance on a hated enemy when there had been no cause. This could not possibly be revenge; what revenge were they taking? Was it simple contempt?

Or perhaps, it was revenge for these people not being as they assumed they were? Ordinary people had proven to be virtuous, strong, and worthy of admiration. They had refused to be enslaved to the caricature these priests had imagined.

The nobility was able to adjust their perspective because they had an agenda.

Yet Cirithil had no agenda save hedonism and spite that William could tell. Whatever designs the demons within him had, Cirithil cared nothing for them. Yet such a thing could not truly be a cause. So he needed some other thing to focus on as an identity, and scorning the common people was convenient. After all, commoners believed in everything that Cirithil disregarded. Dismissing them as worthless, lazy idiots let him ignore his worst qualities.

Should William pity him?

No.

Not at all.

Cirithil was an adult and could have learned better even if he had not been taught better. There was a Cirithil out there who experienced exactly the same things. Someone who, after enduring self-inflicted humiliation, chose to change who they are.

William knew one who did.

No, Cirithil was simply not important.

"Enough," said Arthur suddenly. "These men have gathered all of the coins you asked for. Take your due and never set foot in my lands again.

"Now, begone."

Cirithil halted and felt the eyes of others on him. He looked around and nodded. "Very well.

"However, thanks to their efforts, those oxen will be slaughtered for a feast."

It was a single act of spite.

But it spoke volumes.

Cirithil had no idea that anyone had been invested in the oxen. But he had a general idea they were doing well, and he had power over them. Nobody had used them for hard labor, so he destroyed them. And then force the people who liked them to eat them.

"No," said Vorn, who liked animals. "I'm taking those oxen as my rightful due. My men have been forced to do far more than you asked. You've repaid saving the lives of your people with misery.

"Doing a good deed to do another good deed late is on the thing, but I note you were in no hurry to get your friends. Men, take the oxen."

Cirithil was now surrounded by enemies. William decided that he should just leave. He had not come to start a fight, and Vorn had been right. Starting a confrontation with that brother has caused this. So William ought to let it go and turn back.

"William Gabriel," said Cirithil. "You may consider this your redemption."

No.

That was too much.

William should take his sword. He must stab the foul beast and put out his eyes. He thought about drawing his sword and grasping Cirithil by the throat. He could bring this... official, to the altar of Elranor and execute him there.

Elranor himself could hardly say it was a bad move.

It would send exactly the right message; any Haldrenian would agree with him.

But this was not Haldren.

The High Priest had a sacred role.

The question was this;

Was High Priest Cirithil a political actor or the head of the faith?

William should cut him down where he stood if he was a political actor. The slight degradation on himself and his house already were too great. But if he was the head of the church, William could not lay a hand on him.

And which it was would not be determined by Elranor or him.

William looked up at his Uncle. "Uncle, am I to understand that the man bearing the title of High Priest is under your protection?"

Arthur considered it. "He is."

"Then I will allow this insult to pass," said William, sheathing his sword.

Cirithil turned to begin counting his money. And they left, though Tef stayed behind to observe. William hoped she wasn't going over to his side. But they returned to the village, ceding the field to that contemptible bastard. Worse still, no sooner had they sat down to drink than Rundas came into the village.

A guard bristled, but Arthur waved him off.

"You townsfolk," said Rundas, who was looking very concerned. "I need men to carry a vast sum of gold to Antion. There will be extensive wages in it for you. The High Priest is in dire need, and there is an opportunity to serve the church and Elranor."

And he went about, asking repeatedly. Although his demeanor was less smug, he seemed at least ashamed. William was not feeling forgiving. He went here and there, but Uncle let him.

"Why would you stop me, Uncle?" said William, drinking deeply. "The man is a monster and as bad as any demon. We ought to have cut him down there and then!"

"Yes," said Auga. "Why do we not arrest Rundas? You already banished him?"

"Wait for it," said Vorn with a smile.

"Wait for what?" said Mara. "Alright, keep your secrets, dear."

"Why did you not let me kill Cirithil?" asked Willia.

"It was not just for his sake that I stopped you," said Arthur. "If you were to cut him down, you would be cutting down the church. It has already been discredited. And a Paladin who behaves far better than the priests would be the death of it.

"That is why he sought to humiliate us. If he could get us to inflict violence on him, he could take solace in ruining others. He could say to himself that no one really believes in the gods or the church."

A large group of people went off with Rundas, and he looked to smirk at Arthur, who sighed. The people, however, looked furious. Tef halted. "I'm going to go see what's going on."

"What are you saying?" asked William.

"By enduring the humiliations he inflicts on us, he is defeated," said Lord Arthur. "He has lost finances, territory, and the spiritual battle. He has been forced to see that Antion values the church. He has failed to destroy the faith of the people and the nobility. Worse still, his hold has been broken on some of his priests.

"Those men may do great deeds of mercy and charity in the future.

"And he will see and hear of them doing those deeds. That will pain him far more than any sword blow. It may even, eventually, redeem his soul."

"And what mischief do you think he will do with the money we've given back to him?" said William.

"I don't think you need to worry about that, William," said Uncle. "While he has a lot of money, there is the cost of transportation and portage to consider. It is a long way from Antion."

William heard shrieks of rage from around the bend.

Tef came back, bounding ahead of a crowd that was coming back. "They threw all the gold back into the swamp. The city guard refused his bribes and left them there!"

"Such a pity that Cirithil is henceforth exiled from my domain," said Arthur. "Otherwise, he might be able to ask me for help."

Everyone laughed, even Jehair.

Everyone except William, Tef, and Felix, whose gaze met. Tef seemed surprised at the laughter, and her big eyes blinked as if wondering why they were laughing. Felix clasped his hands and looked to William, who met it.

They'd have both much preferred Cirithil dead.

And they'd see it eventually. The laughter died, and Arthur shrugged. We could arrange an escort for them. It wouldn't be fitting for them to go unguarded, and the roads are not as safe as they once were."

"I'll arrange it," said Vorn. Then he looked to two of his men. "You, take five men and take care of this. Nothing happens to Cirithil until he gets to Antion. And keep him away from the girls."

"I'll go as well," said Coalmarsh. "Someone needs to watch him.

"Let's go, Ata."

"Of course, Coalmarsh," said Ata.

Mara put a hand on William's shoulder. "Just forget about him.

"Think about them when you can do something about it."

William nodded. "Thank you."

He would be glad to be rid of the High Priest. But he could put it aside for now for the sake of his family.