Chương 87: Chapter 84 – The language of panic

"Eh?" Brother Caldus cleared his throat.

"When we make an offering, the gods will either accept or reject it. Most things fall into one of those two. But they will not touch the beer," he explained.

"I'm sorry, you've caught me off guard. Can you explain more?" Alric asked, blinking rapidly. Should I mention Creation? That feels like a bad idea.

"There isn't much to explain. We've tried all the gods, and none will touch the beer. They neither accept it nor reject it." Donovan's gaze narrowed slightly.

"Do you have any idea why?"

"I… don't. This is the first I'm hearing of it. We also don't do anything here that is… holy, I guess?" Alric said, trying to sound less bewildered than he felt.

"I will be honest, while I am a believer, I am not particularly pious." Up until recently, this had not seemed like a problem. Brother Caldus let out a quiet sigh.

"I somehow don't think this is a man trying to outwit doctrine. If he was, he'd have a hundred excuses. And if his beer was corrupted, I would be sick by now." He added this while glancing over at Donovan. There was a long pause as Donovan considered him.

"You're from far away, right?" he asked at last. Alric nodded. It was simpler than explaining the greatest understatement he had ever heard. Donovan exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Then it may simply be that." He adjusted his robes as he stood.

"We will make further inquiries. If we have more questions, we will find you." A brief pause.

"Peace of the Twelve be with you." He said it like a conclusion rather than a blessing.

"And with you," Alric replied, standing. Brother Caldus gave Alric a small nod and a faint, knowing smile before following after Donovan. This is going to become an issue. Alric let out a deep sigh.

"Seren, can I ask you something?" Alric began. It was sometime after the priests had left, and they were wrapping up for the day. Rather than answer, she glanced over at him with a faintly suspicious expression, quill still hovering over her ledger.

"You mentioned you had a statue to one of the gods in your room. Can you tell me..."

"Mister Alric," she cut in, not raising her voice, "that is a question you should ask a man." He stopped mid thought.

"Uh… I... right. I apologize, I just…" He trailed off, suddenly very aware that he had discovered a new and interesting landmine, then jumped on it.

"I didn't realise it was… that sort of question." Seren held his gaze for a moment longer, then shook her head, the suspicion easing into something closer to restrained amusement.

"I understand why you asked," she said, tone still even.

"But it is not something I am going to explain to you, Mister Alric. Not in any level of detail, and not by accident."

"That…" Alric said carefully, now wishing he had not asked at all.

"I would suggest you don't ask Hal," she continued, as if offering a practical warning.

"Ask Vale. If you want a very… thorough account, you could ask Henry." There was just enough emphasis on thorough to make that sound like a terrible idea.

"Right. Vale," Alric nodded, as though that had always been his plan.

"That sounds… safer." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Seren's lips pressed together briefly, and she looked back down at her ledger before she could smile outright.

"Mm."

"Thanks. I'll… yes. I'll do that then," Alric said, turning back to his paperwork with great focus, as though numbers might behave more predictably than conversations. Seren resumed writing, though the pen paused once or twice, and there was the faintest hint of a blush at her ears. The silence that followed was aware of itself.

"Vale… uh. Buddy. I need to ask you something," Alric began. Seren, who was in the office at the time, immediately had a fit of giggles and fled before either of them could stop her. It was not long after Alric's initial, ill-fated questioning that Vale had arrived, and now both men watched the door close behind her. Vale slowly turned back to Alric, his expression settling into deep, immediate suspicion.

"Uh… you know Mara and Seren have statues in their rooms, right?" Alric began. Vale's eyes widened.

"Mister Alric… why are you asking me?" he asked, already sounding like he regretted being present.

"Who the hell should I ask?" Alric shot back, genuinely lost.

"Should I ask Stromni?" Vale actually considered that for a moment, then winced and sat down instead, as if committing himself to something unpleasant.

"Just don't ask Henry..." he began, before he let out a long, resigned sigh.

"So… if a lady does, or doesn't, want to fall pregnant… she, uh… makes an offering," Vale said, managing to sound both formal and deeply uncomfortable at the same time. Alric stared at him. He had never seen Vale this bewildered before.

"So it's a form of contraceptive?" Alric asked, tone drifting into casual curiosity as he tried to fit this into something sensible. A part of him wanted to question someone who would trust something as important as contraception to prayer before his blinking sped up slightly.

"Wait. What? Does it work?"

"How would I know?" Vale snapped, far too quickly.

"You should ask Hal." Alric nodded slowly, his expression flattening as he glanced toward the door where Seren had vanished, still laughing.

"Right. Of course. Hal," he said, as if that explained everything. It did not.

"Alright, thanks, Vale. Good to know. The gods take quite the interest in our lives, I see. Quite a… specific one." Vale stood immediately, straightening as though distance might restore dignity.

"If we are done here…"

"Mister Alric, another letter. It's… Denner." Seren had returned just in time to intercept Vale's escape. She took one look at him, still faintly red, and had to look away again, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing outright. A small, undignified snort escaped anyway as she handed the letter over.

"I somehow don't think this is good news," Alric said, already sighing as he broke the seal. He skimmed it quickly while Seren focused very intently on anything that was not Vale, and Vale focused on nothing at all.

"So, the newest rumour is, 'If the gods won't drink it, why should you?'" Alric said, lowering the page.

"I'm guessing we're going to get a lot more letters demanding reassurance," Seren replied, with the weary certainty of someone who could already see the paperwork multiplying.

"Yes. I would guess so too," Alric muttered, rubbing his forehead as the beginnings of a headache settled in. Both of them were right. The guild master of the Tavern Keepers' Guild was just being brought up to speed by one of the clergymen.

"I see," he said, settling back in his chair.

"So they intend to host an inquiry with him at the temple?"

"That's right. That's about as much as I know," the priest replied. The guild master steepled his fingers, considering that for a moment.

"And what would it take," he asked carefully, "for the inquiry to become… public?" The priest hesitated, just slightly.

"A great deal. I would need to speak to the High Priest, discreetly, to even begin to find out. He is overseeing the matter."

"Of course," the guild master nodded, as though that were entirely reasonable. There was a brief pause. Then, as if remembering something of no particular importance, he reached to the side of his desk and drew open a small drawer. From it, he produced a modest leather pouch and set it down between them with a soft, clinking sound.

"For the trouble," he said lightly. The priest's eyes flicked to it, then back up again.

"This is… not a small matter."

"No," the guild master agreed pleasantly.

"Which is why I would hate for you to trouble yourself without proper… support." Another pause. Slightly longer this time. The priest reached out, not hurriedly, and drew the pouch toward himself.

"I will need to be careful," he said.

"I would expect nothing less," the guild master replied. The priest inclined his head, already rising.

"I will see what can be done." When he had gone, the guild master leaned back once more, a slow smile spreading across his face. Now that, at least, was something that could be worked with. It was two days later that the summons arrived at the brewery. Seren brought it in with the sort of expression usually reserved for condolences. She held it between two fingers, as though proximity might make it worse.

"For you," she said, setting it down on Alric's desk with a faint tap. Alric glanced up, already frowning as he broke the seal. The parchment was thick, the script elaborate, and the message buried somewhere beneath a great deal of very deliberate phrasing. He read it once. Then again.

"It says I need to be at the temple in three days," he said at last, lowering the page slightly.

"For… clarification purposes." Seren's expression did not improve.

"Of course it does." This was no longer a question. It had become an event.