Cor had settled himself down at the kitchen table with two pitchers of beer. Burping, he waved the full one at them in a gesture that might have been an offer to share. When they both shook their heads, he finished the contents of the mug he was holding and wiped the foam from his lips. He belched again before he spoke.

“You have seen the lifeless ashes of your sister, Anomen. Let not this terrible act go unpunished! Gird thy heart with righteous anger and slay thy sister's murderer!”

Anomen looked his father in the eyes. “Nay, father. It is time for this foolishness to end.”

“What do you mean to say, Anomen?” asked Cor, eyes narrowing.

“Only that killing Saerk in vengeance would be murder as surely as my sister's death was,” replied Anomen steadily.

“The destruction of evil is never considered to be murder. Do not these knights that you seek to join take such missions themselves?” retorted his father.

“Not in the manner that you suggest. We must take these charges to the magistrate,” Anomen stated. His voice grew thin with the suppressed rage and disappointment of half a lifetime. “This is the only way to end this circle of violence that you have trapped us within.”

“You fool boy!” Cor exploded. “The magistrate will do nothing. She is a pawn of Saerk!”

“Bylanna Ianulin is a good and noble woman. You said this yourself before you slipped into the foul clutch of the drink,” his son said patiently.

“You dishonor Moira's memory! You would allow the killer of your sister to go free? You are despicable! You are an insect!”

Patricia felt Anomen tense at this insult.

“I will not allow him to go free! He shall be taken before the courts if he is indeed the one who murdered my sister.”

“How can you doubt such a thing, boy? Saerk is the killer!”

“Do you have proof, father?”

“The proof lies in that fact that he has taken everything else from me! Killing Moira would complete my defeat,” claimed Cor in desperation.

“Aye, now I see. Such has always been the case in this household. This is about you and only you. Your daughter's death means nothing beyond how it affects your pride and your comfort,” jeered Anomen.

Patricia could not tell what emotion was uppermost, she sensed so many churning within her friend’s mind. Grief for Moira, anger at his father’s callousness, fear… why fear? She gasped as she caught the edge of Anomen’s repressed feeling. Oh, surely not! Cor could not be sunk so far as that! In her horror, she reached out instinctively to try to sense Cor’s emotions, winnowing through the layers of pain. No, nowhere was there guilt for that, at least. He was a miserable drunk, but no murderer. She shuddered as she felt the horrible burdens Anomen’s father had been carrying for years. What a cage to be trapped within, a prison of one’s own making!

“Boy, you've fallen in with evil! Step back from the line and honor your family before it's too late.”

“I will not, father. I suggest no evil. I suggest the lawful path.”

She could tell that Cor knew he’d lost the battle. Anomen had proven himself the stronger once again. Unlike his father, he knew how to walk away.

“Again I say, obey me, Anomen!”

“I have obeyed you all my life and received naught but bitterness in return. My friend and I shall take this matter to the magistrate, as the law requires.” Without even turning towards her, Anomen reached over and clutched Patricia’s arm as if it were an anchor in a storm.

“If you step out that door then you must never come within again,” warned Lord Cor.

“Don't do this, father,” begged Anomen, the small boy audible for one short second.

Patricia felt his intense longing to be at peace with his sire, to return things to the way they’d been when he was very young. Fainter, she caught the corresponding echo of emotion within his father’s breast, though his pride was overwhelming it.

“Shut your mouth! If you leave now you are forever banished from this place. You will be cast from this family and become a nameless dog, not fit to cower at my feet.”

Patricia felt the anger rising from them in two towering waves, and she flinched at the inevitable collision. But stay, something seemed to be helping Anomen master his rage; somehow he was reining it in. Suddenly she realized that he was unconsciously drawing on her through the physical contact. Blindly, for this was something wholly new in her experience, she sent him feelings of calm, of control. She even tried pity and compassion, anything that might keep him from giving way to his rage.

“I've been cowering at your feet for all my life. Goodbye, father. Perhaps I shall see you again before you drink yourself to death.”

“You are nothing, boy! Nothing!” The words rang like a curse throughout the house as Anomen turned blindly to leave, never loosing his grip on her arm.

The air was still warm and the sky still blue outside. They were well away from the house and halfway into Government Park before Anomen drew a deep, shuddering breath and spoke to her. “Patricia, we should go and see the magistrate in the Council of Six building and see if anything can be done, despite father's venom.”

She was relieved that he sounded halfway in command of himself again. “Of course we shall, Anomen. But may we not sit down on a bench for a few moments? I think I’m going to have a bruise on my arm, and I’d like a moment to recover from all this.”

He looked at her startled, apparently just realizing that he still held on to her. He dropped her arm hastily. “I beg your pardon, Patricia, why did you not speak earlier? Truly, I was in such a fog I had no idea what I was doing. Pray forgive me; I meant no harm, I assure you. We shall rest just as long as you wish.” He wiped his arm across his brow. “I am scarcely aware of where I am even now.”

“We’re in Government Park,” she said soothingly. “Of course you’re distressed, no one with any heart could be indifferent at a time like this. Take some ten minutes or so to master yourself as best you may. You must be clear-headed if we are to discover the truth of this affair.”

“You are… most kind,” he said brokenly. She sensed that much speaking would send him over the edge, and she could not bear for the sake of his own pride to have him break down in public. “Don’t talk,” she urged. “Just sit. When you feel that you are ready, we will go on to the magistrate’s, or wherever else you wish.”

She waited motionless beside him, pondering all that she had heard--- and all the things that had been left unsaid during their interview with Lord Delryn. Moira’s death still seemed to be a complete mystery. Lord Cor had said nothing of how, or where, or even exactly when she’d been killed. Outside of a total conviction of Saerk’s complicity, he’d offered no useful information whatsoever. She hoped the magistrate could shed some light on things. She suspected that a visit to Minna would be in order as well, even if she had to make that one without Anomen’s knowledge. Something was rotten here, and she was determined to find out what it was.