I have known darkness jet black as the raven
And you just might be the closest I will ever get to heaven
But everybody needs forgiveness, even those that don’t deserve,
And everybody needs salvation, even if they don’t believe a word…

And in the thick of night
It’ll hold up in the light;
Put love above everything else
And the rest will take care of itself…

Every dream has a down side
A trap door that’s tripped by doubt
I have tried to see reason
But I couldn’t quite make it out
	--- “The Rest (Will Take Care of Itself)”, Webb Wilder, Doo Dad

Patricia found a few moments to speak to Anomen as they waited for Keldorn to purchase some flowers for his wife and sweetmeats for his children. “You seem much more cheerful all of a sudden, milord. I’m glad to see you merrier, but what brought about this alteration?”

“I was simply able to lose myself in your happiness,” he replied, though he didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s contagious, milady.”

She was afraid to think too much about what deeper meaning might lay behind those words. Anomen said he was awkward at turning phrases, but this one seemed to have gone straight to her stomach, which had suddenly acquired a whole meadow’s-worth of butterflies.…

“I owe you an apology,” he said. “No, make that several apologies. But please, can you first answer me one question more?”

“I suppose,” she replied warily. She was tired of talking about Bhaal.

He stopped and gazed at her earnestly. “Why did you run away from me? Did I hurt your feelings so badly by my foolish action?”

That particular inquiry was the last one she had expected, and she floundered for some moments, searching for an answer. Her mind raced. She couldn’t fob him off easily, but she could think of nothing satisfactory that would not reveal her own inner turmoil too much. “You didn’t,” she replied. “I… won’t say any more than that. Just know… just know that when you are sent away, I will think of you kindly.”

“Sent away?” he said in astonishment and gathering anger. “What is this?”

“Anomen—when you are called for your Test you must go at once, correct? Drop whatever you are doing to answer the summons?”

“I have but a few days’ grace, yes,” he acknowledged.

“And when you answer the call, there is no guarantee that you won’t be immediately posted somewhere else. Also correct?” she queried.

“It has been known to happen,” he admitted. “Always assuming that I am judged worthy, which is by no means assured. That is one thing I wished to speak to you about.”

“Then I promise that I will answer your question when you leave us, but I beg you, drop it for now.” She suspected she had given away too much already, but if she could not deny the truth to herself, she need not openly confess it.

He shook his head ruefully. “Anyone but you would think me very odd to speak about my feelings and urges in such plain ways, milady, but your Order also finds it paramount to control these things. I only wish I had absorbed my training as well as you have, Patricia. The more time that passes, the more I feel that I am not worthy to join the Radiant Heart. My rage gets so out of control, often, that it shames me. What will the Order think?” He trailed off, and she guessed at his yearning and uncertainty. “Sometimes… sometimes I even think it would be so much easier to just give up on my dream and spare myself the worry.”

“Anomen! You mustn’t!” She found herself distressed no end. “This is your dream, the one thing you’ve wanted since you were a small boy. Look how far you’ve come!” She hesitated, not wanting to break her tacit promise of silence about her earlier interview with the Prelate. “I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but you should remain vigilant and steel yourself for this final ordeal. Look,” she said, “when I was writing my final draft, I went through much the same thing. Every time I re-read my own words they sounded worse than before, and by the time I was halfway through making my fifth copy, I was certain that my work had so many gaping holes that the Masters would never approve it. Yet when I appeared before the committee, I discovered that my dread was unfounded. And I do most truly believe that you will not be found wanting.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Hey, I was right about Ajantis, wasn’t I?”

Anomen smiled back with an obvious effort. “Aye. Your advice has always been constant, pointing me back towards the good. Saerk is alive, thanks to your intercession. And the Order is my dream. I shall try to remain vigilant, milady. I have come this far already; it will not be much longer, now.”

The monk saw that he seemed to be trying to decide whether to say something more. Finally he continued, “Thank you, Patricia. Your kind words gladden me more than I can say. Your advice means much... you are a... a dark flame, milady, that I am drawn to almost against my will.” She felt a flush rising on her face as he hastily added, “But 'tis a most pleasurable experience. You have been kind despite my own boorishness. Perhaps one day... we will speak of other things. I... I think I would like that, if you would not be offended. But here comes Sir Keldorn.”

She was glad she was spared the necessity of replying. She couldn’t have trusted herself not to have burst into tears. She wondered at his blindness. Didn’t he understand a word of what she’d said? Anomen was going away, she knew it in her bones, and there was nothing she could honorably do to stop it. Once they had penetrated the mystery of the Unseeing Eye, there would be no reason for the Radiant Heart not to reassign him and Keldorn both to some other mission. She was under no illusions that the Order would consider her missing sister a matter of greater importance than some orc horde threatening an entire region. So far as she could tell, the knights were under much more authority than herself. Her own Order granted almost complete freedom to Hands, but her training had been focused towards her being able to function reliably as an independent agent. The goal of a Hand was to disappear into cities or wilderness, pass unnoticed when necessary, endure any hardship in order to gather the precious knowledge that formed a life’s work….

She was roused from her reverie by their arrival at the Firecam estate. Time to be sociable; she wanted to make a good impression for Keldorn’s sake. They were ushered into a pleasant drawing room while Keldorn made small talk with the maid that had come to answer the door. After receiving satisfactory responses to his inquiries, he waited there with them for his wife. Patricia thought this was a little odd, but then again, she was used to Winthrop barreling into the inn and making a beeline to Delaine, greeting her with a hearty buss. All marriages were different, she supposed, though this was a bit cold for her tastes. Even Jaheira’s thorny heart had been prone to more overt displays of affection than this. If this was an especially devoted marriage among the nobility, she shuddered to think what barren joylessness must lie behind many doors in this city.

Lady Maria’s entrance did little to improve her first impressions. She appeared five or ten years younger than Keldorn; golden-haired and blue-eyed like some princess in a fairy tale. Motherhood had not creased her brow, but Patricia thought she detected some faint bitterness in the set of her mouth and thin crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes. Her expression seemed composed of a sort of proud defiance that took Patricia rather aback. Uh-oh. Not a good sign when a man’s wife got that look on her face. She remembered a night in Nashkel when a woman had taken umbrage at her husband’s conversation with Imoen…. Even Anomen was uneasy, his antennae for tension undoubtedly sharpened by his childhood with Cor.

“So who are these? Heathen you converted in Calimport, traveling pilgrims you stumbled across in Saradush?” Lady Firecam’s voice dripped with scorn.

“Maria, this is Squire Anomen Delryn and Lady Patricia Contemplata. We are searching for the lady’s foster sister who---.” Keldorn had no chance against the juggernaut of Maria’s indignation.

“I don't care, Keldorn! It has been two months since you were here last, and then it was barely for a day! Not even enough to leave your scent about this place---,” she stopped, evidently held back by the presence of outsiders.

Patricia sympathized with her. It must indeed be difficult to cope with a husband who was always gone--- ow! No! Noooo! She didn’t know these people well enough to get sucked into this! Vainly she struggled to control her growing awareness of the suffering locked in the couple’s hearts.

“The work of the Order must be done, Maria. You know if I had my choice I would be here,” Keldorn protested. Poor man, he really is torn between two sets of duty.

“Would you? Would you really?” Maria queried scornfully. “The guildhouse is right here in the city but even then I never see you. It's always Radiant Heart this, Radiant Heart that!” Her voice softened and Patricia came near weeping herself with the dejected hopelessness she sensed. “What about me, what about my heart, Keldorn? What if… I don't love you anymore?”

Oh, sweet Ilmater, no! Not again! Patricia tried to brace herself.

“Maria!” The cry seemed torn from Keldorn’s throat, and Patricia simply could not bear it any more. Somehow she managed to rise from her seat, and stumbled as she groped blindly towards the door. Keldorn and Maria paid no attention to her movements, but she suddenly felt an arm laid across her shoulders as another gripped her elbow. Instinctively she leaned against the proffered support, allowing herself to be led from the room, even as the confrontation escalated behind her.

“What if the girls can't live without a father anymore? What if I can't live without a husband?” Maria demanded desperately.

“You do not love me anymore?” Keldorn’s voice broke in a way no man’s ever should. “I... I have always loved you and I always shall. However well I hide it, every day I spend without you is a day that's lost forever.”

“Milady?” came another voice in her ear, warm with concern. “Patricia, speak to me. Lady Maria isn’t placing any blame with you.” She turned towards the voice and found herself with her face against Anomen’s breastplate. “Get… me… a double shot of whiskey,” she begged. “Please! I can’t bear it!” She didn’t know if she could stand it if Anomen left to get the alcohol, either.

He didn’t have to. She heard him call to the maid, “Peony, bring us a decanter of brandy at once! Lady Patricia has had a shock.” Idiot! Whiskey’s stronger and will act faster on my empty stomach. I don’t care about looking ladylike, I want to stop hurting! She rested her head where it had fallen against his chest, too drained to do anything but close her eyes and try to keep coasting along on the surface of the pain. The voices of the paladin and his wife had faded out, but she was still trapped in their unhappiness.

It was a whole half-minute--- an aeon in the timescale of agony--- before Peony returned. “I couldn’t find the brandy, milord, so I brought the first thing I found.” She heard the glass stopper being removed, and then a distinctive odor wafted to her. Oh, no, was that all she could find? I hate gin even more than whiskey!

She raised her head when Anomen poked her awkwardly in the back. “Er, milady? This is all we could locate… I’m afraid it’s---.” His voice trailed off as she straightened up and grabbed the glass from the maid. She closed her eyes and held her nose with one hand as she drained the jigger in one gulp.

“Another,” she gasped. “Hurry!” She could hear the argument coming to another head, and the rising torrent of suffering confirmed it. Peony filled the shot glass again, and Patricia gulped it down as well. She could already feel the gin beginning to work, smoothing off the edges of the pain.

Keldorn’s voice suddenly snapped back into focus. “I love you like I love the Church, but the Church is the harsher taskmaster, Maria; we knew that when we married.”

“I know, I know,” Maria wept, “and I love you in the same fashion, with all my heart.…”

“Then if we have love, Maria, what could ever come between us?” Keldorn pleaded.

“I--- I've been seeing another man... The children and the servants already know. He took the girls out to the circus twice--- oh, Keldorn,” Maria sobbed.

Even with the alcohol beginning to work, Patricia found herself reeling back against Anomen again. She buried her face in her hands, willing herself to wall away the pain. He guided her gently to a bench and sat her down.

“You... you what?” Keldorn exploded in pain and rage. “What is his name?!?”

“William--- Sir William of Thorpe,” Maria confessed. “I beg of you, don't hurt him, Keldorn. If I can't have you, at least let me have something!”

Patricia shook all over at the torment in that last statement. Why had this been happening to her so often lately? Was it some horrible consequence of her time in Irenicus’ hands?

From a distance she heard Anomen speaking. He sounded shaken himself. “This... this is bad, Tisha. For Maria to have relations with another man is punishable by imprisonment. Keldorn must be tearing himself up inside at this betrayal.” She nodded agreement, without removing her head from her hands. If the Watcher only knew how much the paladin and Maria both had damaged themselves and each other….

“Go---go to your daughters.” Patricia winced at the insult implicit in Keldorn’s phrasing. “To look at you right now, Maria... to look at you is to go mad.”

Patricia heard Maria burst out of the room and flee upstairs. As the other woman got out of range, the monk relaxed. Half of the source of her pain was gone, and the alcohol was strong enough now to damper Keldorn’s alone fairly well.

She straightened up and removed her hands. Anomen was kneeling on the floor before her, and as she revealed her face, one of his hands came up to brush her cheek for an instant. “I did not know how tender-hearted you are, milady,” he said softly, eyes dark with worry. “You seemed nearly as affected as if you yourself had been the guilty party.”

She gave him a wan smile. “You do not know the half of it. It is hard to explain, but… do you remember when I spoke of Foldran?” He nodded, and she continued, “I knew that Imoen was his victim before I ever looked down over that parapet, because I could literally feel her humiliation. It is an ability that has plagued me for years, but until I arrived here in Amn, it only worked with members of my family, with rare exceptions.”

“Ever since I’ve been here, I have found that I feel others’ suffering much more keenly. I know… far too much. I---.” She stopped. Should she tell him the full truth?

He guessed, and saved her the trouble of deciding. “You mean that you could sense my pain when I learned about Moira, when I spoke with my father?”

She nodded. “Yours… and Lord Cor’s. And both Keldorn’s and Maria’s. I am sorry, but I didn’t intrude on your grief on purpose. I asked for the alcohol just now because I realized this afternoon that it insulated me from the worst effects of this empathy.”

“Do not regret it on my account,” he told her. “Now I understand how you always seem to know what I am thinking. It is little wonder that I find myself confiding in you without hesitation. We must not spend more time speaking of this now, though, however much I wish to know more of this gift of yours. Our friend needs us, I think; perhaps needs you, especially.” He held out a hand to her. “Come, let us see what we can do.” She took strength from his solemn gravity and from the pressure of his fingers as he helped her to her feet, though the contact lasted all too brief a moment.

Keldorn had collapsed into a wing chair, feet stretched out in front of him. He held his great Torm-blessed blade across his lap, and he fingered its handle vacantly. The canvas bag in which he carried his armor was tossed into a corner. He started as the others came into his line of sight.

“You heard,” he stated rustily. “There is nothing I can do. Curse the dictates of honor! Oh, the very gods demand that I bring this case before the courts. Sir William shall be hung and my love imprisoned; there is no other outcome!”

Patricia sank to her knees in front of him and clasped the paladin’s hands in her own. As if it’s going to make any difference if I break that small rule of etiquette in this dire situation! He needs us, and I doubt very much he’s going to take it the wrong way.

“Keldorn, are you certain that is the only moral solution? Are you even certain that your wife’s conduct has truly gone so far that it must be punished? Perhaps you should talk with her.”

“Seeing her face would drive me to madness, Patricia. To be in her presence right now is to abandon every virtue I've ever held sacred,” he groaned. “I would become a blood-soaked beast and damn my soul to the Abyss. You mean well... but it is not an option.”

She sighed. “Anomen, please explain to me what constitutes an imprisonable breach of conjugal vows here in Amn, since Keldorn obviously can’t or won’t. Is it just being seen unaccompanied in public with an unrelated person of the opposite sex? For Maria cannot be definitely convicted of anything worse than that on the basis of what I heard.”

“Er, well, no,” the Watcher said, “but she might be convicted if there was additional incriminating evidence, such as letters or witnesses that testified to inappropriate behavior. If she ever visited him at his rooms for any length of time without an escort, or allowed him to visit her in her private quarters here, that would be a different matter; she would then be presumed guilty unless she could offer proof of innocence.”

Patricia began to feel a bit indignant. “So without even finding out what Maria has actually done, you are willing to completely condemn your wife, Keldorn? Must your first recourse in this case be to the courts? If you haven’t got the guts to face Maria, perhaps you should confront this Sir William about the matter. Your wife is miserable, Keldorn, and all you seem to be interested in is sending her to jail!”

Keldorn groaned again. “Sir William of Thorpe is a foreign noble establishing trade here in Athkatla. He was a good man; at least I always thought so until now. Oh, Patricia, nothing is clear to me anymore! Come, I know of him and he is often at the Mithrest in Waukeen's Promenade. Let us go and see what sense we can make of this.”

“Well, would you like me to try to talk to your wife first? I can’t guarantee that she will open up to me, but it seems wrong to go to a stranger first for this information. Forgive me for being so outspoken, Keldorn, but did you ever think it might behoove you to try to come home more often? When did you last take your wife for a picnic, play catch with your children, even just spend an evening sitting with them by the fire?” Patricia pressed him.

He hung his head. “I have not been home for weeks. There always seemed to be something in the way--- a more urgent demand. And I must admit that I find it harder to leave every time I do return. It has grown to the point where I am reluctant now to come home for only a single evening, for fear of the pain of parting again in the morning. The time always seems too short.”

Patricia’s heart melted with pity at her friend’s admission. “Keldorn, why did you not share this with Maria, who had the greatest right to know it? Do you not think she would have been able to understand your fears, that she does not even share them? You have hurt her feelings because she did not understand what was keeping you away. I assure you, your wife loves you still. Whatever she has done, she has done from desperation.”

He sighed. “Your words burn me with their truth, but I cannot help feeling anger that my wife would stoop to such underhanded behavior! In all the years of our marriage, I have never gone behind her back as she has done!”

Patricia looked at him with sudden loathing. “Keldorn, please forgive the blunt phrasing, but personally, unless she’s actually crawled into another man’s bed, I think you’re even. You’ve neglected her shamefully! Come on, I can see you won’t be satisfied until we have met this Sir William.”

She rose to her feet, catching a stunned look on Anomen’s face as she turned to go. Well, sometimes one simply had to call a spade a spade, not a soil excavation device.

An hour later, the three of them were standing in the common room of the Mithrest. Anomen’s armor was garnering some unpleasant looks from the waiters, who obviously felt that in spite of its high polish, it lowered the tone of the establishment.

A pleasant-looking but unremarkable man of indeterminate middle age crossed the lobby to greet them. “Sir Keldorn, I was hoping you would come. Please, step into this private parlor.”

Keldorn walked stiffly after him. Patricia noticed out of the corner of her eye that several other people within the room were tracking their progress with evident interest. Not a good sign. Evidently there had been talk already; the high-society gossip grapevine was evidently flourishing in Athkatla. As soon as the door was closed, the paladin said, “May I presume, then, that you know why I am here?”

“I was a husband to your wife and a father to your children, if that is what you mean,” the merchant replied cheerfully.

Keldorn purpled with rage at the man’s nonchalance. “Lady Maria has but one husband, and it is I! As for Vesper and Leona, how dare you defile them with your presence!”

“They yearn for a father, any father--- even an impostor off the street in your stead!” retorted Sir William. “Be to them in your compassion what you are to them in blood, Keldorn.”

Patricia heard her friend’s voice grow dangerously cold. “So says the viper who will sleep in my bed, running his wretched fingers through the spun gold that is her hair? What do you wish, Sir William? To have a child that is not even yours?”

The merchant snorted. “Hmph! Unlikely: I have been a spent wick for many years. We sought some beauty in the midst of all her pain. I wish I could say you would have done the same.”

If the occasion had not been so grim, Patricia might have smiled at seeing Keldorn forced to acknowledge the full implications of the other man’s statements. It would be hard to convince a judge that Sir William had alienated Maria’s affections if the merchant could no longer perform in certain capacities.

“What am I to do with you?” the paladin said at last, half to himself. “You show no remorse yet, at the same time, you are so devoid of malice. What am I to do at all?”

“Lady Maria loves you deeply, but without expression love withers and dies. I was but a single drop of moisture, you are the oasis for which she searches. Love her, and I will be but wind-borne dust,” Sir William admonished.

“Are you asking for my forgiveness?” Keldorn asked.

“I am not fool enough to ask for that, milord. I'd much rather think that someday you will thank me,” the merchant said earnestly.

“I once believed that with age would come wisdom, but every day I seem to doubt it more,” Keldorn finally said. He turned to his companions. “Much as it pains me to admit it, Sir William is right. And you were right, too, Patricia. It is high time I spoke with my wife.”

“Then let us make our way to your estate and bring some closure to this turmoil,” Anomen said, in evident relief at the aversion of a duel.

The paladin smiled at the pair. “Thank you both for your understanding and your friendship. Come...let us be off to my estate so that I may meet with Maria and put this behind me.”

The sun was almost down when they returned to the Firecams’ house. Peony once more opened the door, gazing wide-eyed at her employer. “Be not concerned, Peony,” Keldorn said. “Take Lady Patricia up to see Lady Maria; Lord Anomen and I will wait in the drawing room.”

Patricia had scarcely tapped on Maria’s door when it opened. She saw the swollen features that indicated that the woman had spent most of the time crying, though she seemed to have gained a brittle control over herself.

The monk gave her an encouraging smile and held out her hand. “Come with me.” She would let Keldorn explain for himself. Maria took her hand like a toddler and allowed herself to be led into the drawing room. She gasped as she saw her husband.

“You live! Am I to read from such a fact that Sir William now lies dead?”

“Nay, my love. We both yet live, and perhaps each of us more fully than before,” Keldorn replied.

“But did not your honor dictate---,” Maria started to ask, only to be interrupted by her husband.

“To love you is honor enough for any man, Maria.”

The tears ran once more down Maria’s face, but these were tears of joy. “Thank you, Keldorn! So... so you will stay, my love?”

“Patricia?” the paladin asked, even as he folded his wife in his arms.

She held her hands up in front of her in a halting motion. “As I recall, Anomen and I were supposed to have left hours ago. I have to pick up my new clothes tomorrow afternoon anyway. But by your leave, Lady Maria, I’m not going back down into those sewers without your husband’s help. Do you think you could lend his sword arm to me for that task, at least? I’ll try not to get him damaged. Will one day be a bit of a start on working out the rest of your lives? We promise we’ll get him home every night if it’s at all possible.”

“A whole day to ourselves?” Maria laughed. “I won’t know what to do with him for that long. It’s been a year since he was home for more than a few hours.”

Patricia grinned back. “I’m sure you will find something to occupy yourselves. Good night!”