The midnight watch was nearly half over by the time the three returned to Caan House. Lady Delcia had retired for the night, but Nalia had waited up for them. “Anomen never came down, Tisha,” she said a bit reproachfully. “There wasn’t much point in my staying here to nursemaid him. Did you find out anything?”

Patricia ignored the implied criticism. “We need to see someone called Inspector Aegisfield in the morning. Jan thinks the man’s office is at the guardpost on the Bridge; we’ll try there first. It turns out that Minna and her nephew Terl found Moira, but I’ll leave it to Jan and Minsc to tell you the rest. I’m exhausted, but I think I’d better be the one to tell Anomen what we found out, so keep quiet about our visit if he comes downstairs before I do tomorrow, all right?”

Patricia didn’t give Nalia the real reason she wanted to be the one to tell the painful story. The monk knew that later on, once the worst shock had worn off, Anomen would be grateful that only one person had seen his anguished reactions to this whole ugly situation. He was the sort who would think of his distress as a display of weakness, and it was far better that he feel awkward around only one of them.

She needn’t have worried. Anomen himself sought her at a very early hour, heralding his presence by a low rap on her door. She was in the middle of one of her flexibility exercises, and had to extricate herself from the Triple Pretzel before she could unlock it. Short as the delay was, it seemed to have nearly unmanned him. As soon as he entered, he began pacing up and down in the small space: three steps forward, turn, three steps back, like a caged beast.

Patricia sensed that an outburst was imminent, and braced herself for another torrent of shared emotion.

His voice surprised her by a softness completely at odds with the seething fury she sensed in his mind. “I came to thank you for not making me look more a fool than I already am. Had I been forced to bear the others’ company last evening I should have gone mad; I could not have endured their looks of pity. I know I have fallen far short of my duty, yet it is not guilt but fury that masters me!”

He halted, balling his fists, his rigid body completely at odds with the desperate longing in his voice. “My anger has built to the point when I am shaking with pure rage! I... I must speak to you, Lady Patricia. I must gain some reassurance!”

Under the riptide of his sorrow and anger it was all she could do to nod her understanding, even though she knew her acquiescence would flood her with even more transferred anguish. Yet what else could she do? She could not let the man keep his feelings pent up, they were so strong they might literally kill him….

“My father... that rude, drunken bastard! He has cast me out of the family when I was only doing what I must! I cannot take vengeance when there is no proof, and he knows it! And yet, my heart cries out for vengeance! That my sister should lie murdered and the murderer laughs, untouched--- how great an evil is this? I am so full of hate I can barely control it!”

She fought the undertow desperately, striving to manage the influx of his own agony on top of her own fury. She did not realize that the more she struggled, the more hard-set her own face became.

“Please, my lady,” Anomen cried, thankfully blind to everything but his misery, “you are the one I turned to for guidance when I was torn. Did I do the right thing? Should the dictates of honor truly overcome duty and justice?!”

She could bear it no longer, and turned her face to the wall so he could not see the reflection of his own horror and anguish in her eyes. She’d not had enough rest to be able to fight it fully. Never, never in her life had she felt such a storm of emotions from someone else, not even when…. She stopped short at the memory that threatened to rise up and overwhelm her. No! No! Not that, not now! She must hang on to the present!

Then with hideous clarity, she saw what must be done, though her spirit rebelled. By the Five, must she go through it again? Must she bare her own weak-willed soul to this comparative stranger? Deneir, would nothing else get through to Anomen but that sorry tale? She knew the truth of the matter. He must not be allowed to wallow in self-pity, or he would end up in the same cycle of self-hate as his father. Minna was right; Cor and Anomen were too much alike in some ways; she’d sensed it herself yesterday as she listened to their verbal battles.

She took a deep breath--- it seemed like her first in ages, though in reality her internal struggle had lasted no more than ten seconds--- and forced herself to reply. “Anomen, Anomen... honor is nonexistent when duty is shirked and justice forsaken. How would you feel if you killed Saerk and found him to be innocent after the fact? Have you so little mercy within your heart that you must lash out without considering the consequences?”

He looked at her, stricken. “Aye... aye, that would be a stain to my honor I surely could not bear. But I still feel so helpless. Surely... surely Saerk will pay eventually for what he has done.” Yet his voice carried no real conviction, and she saw with a sinking heart that she must tell him her shameful story. At least he seemed somewhat more in command of himself; the boilover of emotion had died away to a slow simmer.

“I feel a little better, now, my lady. My thanks for your consolement. Nothing, however, will take away this burning pain in my heart.” He sighed deeply. “I shall leave you now and cease to trouble you more.” He was reaching for the doorknob before she mustered the strength to call out to him.

“No, you mustn’t go yet, I have something to say.” He turned an impatient face towards her, anxious to be gone. Patricia could tell that he was already regretting having shared so much of his anguish with her. She took another long breath and said steadily, “I took the great liberty of seeking out Minna last night. Her story is fraught with interest, if you can bear to hear it. ‘Twas she who found your sister. Shall I tell you now, or would you like to eat breakfast first?”

“Breakfast!” he cried. “Hang breakfast, it is information that I hunger for! Tell me instantly all that is known!”

In rapid sentences she outlined the tale Minna had spun in the room above her shop. Anomen listened intently, hanging on her every word. He was frowning with perplexity well before she ended. “Aye, Minna is right, there is something very wrong with the account. Lady Patricia, I thank you again for your consideration; I am grateful that you went to see her when I was so far gone that I could not even think to do it for myself. To know that there is some point at which to begin my search is a great relief!”

“Our search, if you will allow the rest of us to help you, Lord Anomen. None of us will sleep easy until we discover the truth of this sad business. Let us find proof, if it can be done, and so lay to rest what ghosts we may.” She added firmly, “I find the Guards’ lack of inquisitiveness particularly troubling; we should step warily until we determine if we’re about to tromp on someone’s toes. But you’re going to eat something before you leave this house, and that’s flat!”

He managed a weak smile. “I shall obey, Lady Patricia. Though ‘twill taste like naught but sawdust, yet I realize that food is fuel for my quest. Let us go down to the breakfast room, then, that we may be off the quicker.”

“No,” she said, “not yet, if you will bear with me some little while longer. There… there is a story that I feel compelled to relate to you. It is not a pretty yarn, I warn you. When you say your wrath overwhelms you, you look at me as though you believe I have never known what it is to be mastered by hate and anger. Not so. I begged to join the Order because I learned all too well what uncontrolled rage can do. Listen to my tale, if you will.” She poured herself a glass of water from the bedside carafe, and forced herself to dredge up a memory that she wished with all her heart she could unmake.