Long after Jarran and Keldorn rejoined the others at the Five Flagons, Anomen returned. The group had already eaten supper and was relaxing in the upstairs sitting room. He walked past them into the bedchamber without acknowledging their presence.
A few minutes later he was back, silently stalking by with a thunderous look on his face. He had left behind his helmet, shield, and pack. He obviously had not found the calm he had hoped to regain at the temple.
After waiting for the priest for some time, Jarran went down into the common room of the inn, looking for Anomen. He found the man, as he thought he might, sitting alone in a dark corner, with a bottle before him.
Anomen looked up with an unfriendly glare as he saw Jarran approaching him. "What do you want?" he snarled as the skald took a seat.
"I came to see what you were doing."
"Well, what does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting drunk. I fully intend for the wenches to have to roll me out of the way to mop the floor in the morning."
"And then what will you do tomorrow when the liquor wears off and your sister is still dead? Get drunk again? And the day after that? And the next? Why don't you just go home, Anomen? I'm sure your father would be pleased to have a new drinking partner."
Anomen slammed his fist down on the table. "Do not speak to me of my father!" he roared. The patrons of the tavern turned to gawk at the disturbance, but quickly lost interest when they realized that no fight was breaking out.
Jarran could see that Anomen was shaking with rage. Slowly the priest cooled, then whispered, "Damn you. Damn you for always being right."
The skald snorted. "Don't let Jaheira hear you say that. I'm sorry my friend, I know this is painful for you. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Nothing can help. Moira is gone and I am barred from my family home. I don't know why it should bother me so. I have seldom crossed its threshold since joining the Order. I certainly do not go out of my way to see my father, the miserable old bastard. But to know I cannot return should I wish to do so… hurts."
Jarran studied Anomen's face. He's avoiding what is really troubling him. He's holding his pain inside. "I am sorry I never got the chance to meet your sister. It obviously meant a lot to you."
"From what my father said, she might have been dead before we ever left Athkatla. She was so wonderful, Jarran. Lovely, intelligent, sweet… ah, I have told you all this before. I had once hoped I could persuade you to meet her on the chance you would fall in love with her and marry her."
"I'm flattered that you would consider me a potential brother-in-law, my friend."
Anomen laughed, a dry humorless laugh. "Don't be too flattered. I sang Moira's praises to every eligible man I knew. The knights and squires at the Hall were probably sick to death of hearing me speak of her constantly. They would listen politely, but none ever expressed any interest. They all knew that no matter how delightful she was, marriage to Moira meant having Lord Cor for a father-in-law, and what man of virtue would want that?"
"I am sorry you felt you had to do that."
"Of course I did. Have you never wondered why this paragon of a sister, this jewel among women was not already married? It was the same when I tried to find a patron to sponsor me in the Order. No one leaps at the chance to ally themselves with the Delryn name," he said bitterly.
Anomen tossed off the remainder of his drink and continued, "I am a spineless excuse for a brother. Time and again I wondered if it would be better to take Moira out of my father's house, even if it meant placing her in a squalid place like the Coronet. Anything would have been better than living under Cor's roof. Before we left for the Windspear Hills, I was too proud to let you buy me a suit of armor, but I shouldn't have been too proud to ask for an advance of gold to set her up in her own household. She might be alive today if I had thought of someone other than myself."
"Anomen, you can't blame yourself for her death. How could you have possibly known that this could happen?"
"Bah! Moira was at risk every second she lived in that house. How could I leave her there? How could I leave her unprotected and vulnerable, when our father has collected enemies the way a house collects dust? If only she had told me that there was no money for guards, I would have found some way…"
Jarran waited while the priest stared off into space. "She's gone, Jarran. The only other person in the world besides my mother who ever cared whether I lived or died, and she's gone." Anomen stood. "I'm going to bed. Here, take this bottle and give it to some drunkard. Tell them it is compliments of Lord Cor." He walked away with a reasonably steady gate.
Jarran heard a deep sigh behind him, and then Keldorn slid into the recently vacated chair. "Well done, lad. He needed someone to snap him out of his destructive mood, and I feared I would only antagonize him more. You and he are more of an age, so he would not resent your words the way he would mine."
"I can hardly be surprised he feels so guilty, Keldorn. Daily I blame myself for Imoen's capture, how is that so different than what Anomen is feeling? I can't deny that this turns my mind to things I'd rather not think about. I look at Anomen and I wonder... what will I do if I can't get Imoen back? What if this magical prison is just a lie the Cowled Wizards tell to the Council, and they kill their prisoners? What will I do if the woman I look upon as a sister is... gone?"
"You will survive, lad, as Anomen will," Keldorn said softly. "You are both strong young men, and you will survive."