Sorry that I've been so slow to update, but I try to write a couple of chapters ahead, and one of the upcoming chapters was extremely difficult to put on paper, for some reason. That is also why I've been reviewing so little lately. Again, my apologies. But having finally wrestled it into submission…ta da! I present the first chapter of part 2. FYI, I have known I wanted certain information to be revealed in this chapter, in this way, almost from the first inception of the story. All-in-all, I'm pretty pleased with the result. I hope you enjoy it, too.


Part II

Chapter 28

Kelsey Coltrane was startled awake by vigorous and persistent pounding on the door. His first response was to pull the pillow over his head and hope the problem would resolve itself on its own. When that hope proved to be in vain, he emerged from under the pillow and moaned, "Alanya…Alanya, wake up! There's someone at the door." His entreaty went unanswered, so he reluctantly cracked an eye open and surveyed the room. This told him two things; that it was mid-morning, and that he was alone.

"Damn, must be at the shop already," Kelsey muttered. The knocking continued unabated, and he finally he resigned himself to the inevitable. He did a quick search around the bed until he found a robe that was slightly crumpled but reasonably clean, pulled it over his head and staggered downstairs to the front door.

He yanked the door open, determined to send whoever was pounding on the door on his way as quickly as possible. "What in the nine hells do you—" he began, then stopped dead when he realized that the young man standing before him was wearing the distinctive surcoat and cap of a bonded messenger.

A bonded messenger, here? What in Toril… He had often seen them hurrying to and fro delivering messages, though generally only in the larger cities. As a matter of fact, he couldn't recall ever seeing such a messenger in as small a town as Beregost. However, Kelsey knew that messenger's guild guaranteed that a message would be delivered, and consequently, hiring one was well beyond the means of most Sword Coast citizens. He opened his mouth to speak, but the messenger interrupted him.

"Are you Kelsey Coltrane, sorcerer by profession, formerly of Berdusk?"

"Err…yes," Kelsey admitted reluctantly, quickly scanning his memory of the last few months to see if there was anything he should be concerned about. Nothing came to mind immediately, so he asked the messenger, "What is this about, anyway?"

"Bonded document for you, sir," the man said briskly. Kelsey rolled his eyes, but before he could formulate a suitably sarcastic reply, the messenger shoved a parchment-covered slate into his hands. "Sign here, and thumbprint here, sir," he said, and pointed to the proper spaces on the form.

Kelsey signed where indicated, and when he pressed his thumb to the box designated for that purpose, he felt the distinctive tingle of magic. Huh, I wonder what spell that is, he thought, his professional curiosity pricked. He was about to examine the parchment more closely when the slate was abruptly yanked away and a heavy parchment scroll was thrust into his hands.

"Thank you sir, good day."

Bemused, Kelsey watched the messenger disappear down the lane. He had entered the house and closed the door behind him before he realized that he had still had the unopened scroll in his hands. When he finally glanced down at it, he almost dropped the scroll in surprise.

There, easily visible in the blue sealing wax that held the thick ribbons in place, was a symbol he remembered all too well from his travels in Merena's company; the distinctive gauntlet and staring eye symbol of the Church of Helm.

Once his mind began working again, Kelsey swore loudly, broke the seals, and unrolled the scroll. As he read through it, his breathing became heavier and his face reddened with fury. The document was densely written with such formal language that there was much about it that he did not fully comprehend. But what he did understand confirmed his suspicions. The document was signed by High Watcher Oisig of Athkatla, and only two people were mentioned by name in it, he and Merena. Nonetheless, he had absolutely no doubt who was responsible for the scroll in his hand. Someone that Kelsey had obviously severely underestimated.

His hand closed convulsively on the offending document, creasing the heavy parchment. One word escaped his clenched teeth. "Delryn."

-ooo-

High Watcher Pentram had just taken a second sip of his tea when there was a knock at the door to his study. He sighed in irritation and put his cup down with a clatter. Kerris, his clerk, knew he didn't like being interrupted during his mid-morning tea break.

"Yes?" he said querulously, letting just the right degree of irritation enter his voice. Kerris sidled in, looking chagrined. "High Watcher, I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's someone here who insists on seeing you immediately."

"Someone?" the High Watcher asked curtly, "Who is it? A member of the Church?"

'No, sir, a stranger. By his dress, he might be a mage." Kerris shook his head apologetically. "I asked him to come back later, but he seems upset and was very insistent that he speak to you as soon as possible."

Pentram considered his options briefly. All in all, it was probably best not to send a disgruntled stranger off without at least a hearing. Wouldn't that officious Dawnbringer Keldath just love to hear about that!

"Wait a few moments, and then show him in." The High Watcher told his clerk. No reason to let this fellow think he had nothing better to do than speak to impertinent strangers. Pentram leisurely finished his tea, and shortly afterward, Kerris knocked again and ushered in the waiting man.

"High Watcher Pentram, Kelsey Coltrane." Kerris said, and a thin, red-haired man in a rumpled mage robe followed him in. At Pentram's nod, Kerris bowed and left, closing the door silently behind him.

Before the High Watcher could speak, the man strode up to the desk and dropped a parchment on it. "High Watcher, I need you to explain this to me! What in the nine hells does this mean and what am I supposed to do?"

The High Watcher bristled at his disrespectful manner. "Young man, if you have business with the Church of Helm that you wish to discuss with me, I suggest you moderate your tone."

The man seemed to bite back an intemperate response, and said through clenched teeth, "Pardon me, High Watcher. This document was sent to me by the Church of Helm in Athkatla, and I'd appreciate it if you could explain it to me."

Mollified, Pentram gestured for the man to take a seat and picked up the parchment the man had given him. A moment later, he sat up straighter and bit back an exclamation. "By Helm, I haven't seen one of these in years!" he said under his breath.

"One of what?" the man asked impatiently. Pentram held up his hand to forestall further questions and read through the document carefully. After a few moments he laid the parchment back down on his desk and looked up to meet the stranger's eyes.

"I take it you are the Kelsey Coltrane referred to in this document?" At the man's nod of assent, he continued. "This is an official notification to you that the Rite of Dissolution has been requested by your wife," he referred to the document again. "Merena Coltrane of Berdusk." The name seemed vaguely familiar to the High Watcher, but he couldn't quite place it.

"I could have figured that out," Coltrane said irritably. "I mean, it says "Rite of Dissolution" in big gold letters at the top. But what is it?"

Pentram gave the man a quelling look before answering. "In brief, Mr. Coltrane, your wife wants to end her marriage to you, and has asked the Church of Helm for its assistance in the matter. Since you seem unfamiliar with it, I can tell you that the Rite is very simple. The petitioner—in this case, your wife—presents herself at the temple at the appointed time, in the presence of a priest of Helm and two witnesses of her choosing. With the intercession of the priest, the petitioner submits to Helm's judgment and asks that he grant her petition. If Helm finds there is good cause for the marriage to be dissolved, he indicates his approval of the petition, and that, as they say, is that."

"That's it then? The marriage is dissolved?" Coltrane asked incredulously.

"Essentially, yes. In most lands where Helm is worshipped openly, the local authorities accept notice of that the Rite of Dissolution has been successfully performed as proof that the marriage has ended, just as marriages performed in one of Helm's temples are accepted as lawful. That is certainly true in Amn."

"But, but…that's ridiculous!" Coltrane sputtered. "She just has to show up, the priest says a few words, and our marriage is over, just like that?"

Pentram's eyes narrowed. "Don't be deceived by the simplicity of the process, sir, it is very old and powerful rite, and one that should be contemplated only after thoughtful consideration. As a matter of fact, it dates back to a time before the civil authorities of most lands provided a means to end a marriage, and used very seldom these days now that other options are available."

"Why is that?" the man asked suspiciously. "It seems easy enough."

"As I said, the process is simple. However, keep in mind that the Rite requires the direct intervention of Helm, and the petitioner must willingly open his or her heart and mind to Helm's touch, a level of scrutiny that many are unwilling to undergo. Furthermore, there is no guarantee that Helm will approve the petition; though rare, he has been known to refuse to dissolve the marriage. Unlike with many civil authorities," Pentram said caustically, "gold pressed in the right palms will not improve the odds of a favorable outcome for the Rite."

"Huh," Coltrane said thoughtfully, and fell silent.

"You are obviously not a follower of Helm, but your wife must indeed be a devoted follower of the Vigilant One to have chosen this course of action," Pentram said, shaking his head in wonder.

The man had calmed down since he had first entered the room, but now seemed to grow agitated again. "No," he said shortly, "she's not a Helmite."

The High Watcher started in surprise. "Indeed? That is most unusual!" he exclaimed, then added, "I wonder why, then, she choose to ask for the Church of Helm for assistance."

Coltrane reddened. "Delryn," he said tightly, as much to himself as to the High Watcher.

High Watcher Pentram gave the man a puzzled look. "Delryn? Are you perhaps referring to Sir Anomen Delryn of Athkatla?"

The man stared at him, thunderstruck. "You…you know him?" he asked in amazement.

"I have never had the honor of meeting him." the High Watcher replied patiently. "But of course I know of him; all of the Watcher's priests know the names of the Hands of Helm. When Sir Anomen was honored with the Hand it was announced in Helm's Temples the length and breadth of Faerun."

The man looked like he had bitten into something extremely unpleasant. "Great," he muttered.

Pentram's curiosity won out over his caution. "Is Sir Anomen your wife's spiritual advisor?"

Coltane snorted. "That's one way to put it," he said acerbically. Evidently recognizing the mystified look on Pentram face, he rolled his eyes. "You know…Delryn, my wife…let's just say he has a personal interest in my wife being free to marry again." The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.

Then an idea seemed to strike the man and his eyes narrowed shrewdly. "I can't believe Helm would look too favorably on one of his 'Hands of Helm' trying to steal someone's wife! But I suppose you'll say that a Hand of Helm would never do such a thing," he added scornfully.

"Hands of Helm are highly honored, but like all of Helm's priests they are, in the end, merely human and thus have the same potential for human weakness and error," Pentram replied, outwardly calm, while inwardly his mind worked furiously. By Helm, this was monstrous! In truth, Pentram had to admit that he had been disappointed at the announcement of Sir Anomen's elevation. Not that he had anything against the man, but he couldn't help but wish that one of many fine local priests had been honored instead; from Baldur's Gate, for instance, or even perhaps, one here in Beregost. But to have this…unbeliever suggest that a Hand of Helm had acted so improperly was not to be borne! Even if proven false, such an accusation could damage the good name of Helm's priesthood.

If there was some way he could dissuade this fellow from repeating this appalling insinuation… Pentram's eyes fell on the document, still on his desk, and he glanced over it again, hoping for inspiration. When he read the words "Merena Coltrane of Berdusk" once more, it was if a great bell had gone off in his head, and he sighed in relief.

He looked up and caught the man's expectant gaze. "However highly Sir Anomen has been honored by Helm in the past, it would be a very grave offense indeed if he has…encouraged your wife to abandon you and take up with him instead. Since, as you may know, Helm greatly values the bond of trust and faithfulness that should exist between a husband and wife, and expects his followers to honor that bond."

Coltrane looked smugly triumphant at Pentram's words, much to the High Watcher's irritation. If my reasoning is correct, it is time to wipe that look off your face, Pentram thought grimly. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, Mr. Coltrane, I need to speak to my clerk." The High Watcher left the room and had a few quick words with Kerris, who, once he recovered from his surprise, was out the door in a moment on Pentram's errand. Pentram waited a little longer and reentered his office.

As he had hoped, Coltrane was starting to look impatient, but did not yet seem ready to leave. Pentram reseated himself behind his desk. "Sorry for the interruption, sir, there was an urgent matter to attend to. Where were we?" He glanced down at the document on his desk, as if to reorient himself on the conversation.

"Ah, yes, we were discussing the importance of the bond between a husband and wife. You might not be aware," Pentram continued conversationally, "that Helm places equal weight on the vows of honor and fidelity made by both the husband and the wife." The mage eyed him suspiciously, as if uncertain whether the conversation was going in the direction he wished. "And for either spouse to dishonor that vow through, say, cruelty, or abandonment, or infidelity is a very serious matter." The High Watcher thought he detected a definite flinch from the man at his words. Good. "So serious, in fact, that if the violation of the marriage vows is grave enough that the trust between them is irreparably damaged, the Church of Helm might consider the injured party free to find another."

Pentram could almost see the wheels turning in the other man's mind; his face flushed, his fists clenched. As the High Watcher waited for a response, he wondered idly whether the mage would be bold enough to claim that he was the sole injured party in the situation. This speculation was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Kerris entered, red-faced and breathless from his exertions. Pentram arched an eyebrow at his clerk, who gave him a tight smile in return, handed him a small, folded piece of parchment, and left the room. The High Watcher quickly read the message, and he couldn't help smiling to himself as he tucked the note into his desk drawer.

Coltrane chuckled, "Oh, there's no need to talk about that, High Watcher. All I want is to get that man out of our lives so we can be happy together, the way we used to be."

"Quite understandable, Mr. Coltrane." The High Watcher smiled genially. "You and your wife have been married for some time?"

"Almost five years," he answered, unbending a bit in response to the friendly questioning.

"Goodness me, I wouldn't have guessed that you are old enough to have been married for so long! Do you and your wife have any children?"

This elicited the most genuine smile the High Watcher had seen from the man since he had entered the office. "Yes, a little girl, Kylia. She's four."

"How wonderful for you! I have a granddaughter about the same age. You and your wife live in Berdusk?" Pentram felt as if he was dangling a particularly juicy worm in front of a fish.

The mage hesitated a moment before answering. "Yes, that is, she…uh, yes," he concluded uncertainly.

Pentram smiled at him over the top of his spectacles, giving no sign of his delight that the bait had been taken. "I surmised as much. We like to think of Beregost as a large town, but I'm sure I would have met you by now if you and your family had been living here for five years!"

The mage smiled uneasily in response.

"I do find it rather odd, however," Pentram went on, "that this document finds you here in Beregost, not at home with your wife and child in Berdusk."

"My work requires me to travel," Coltrane said tightly, "I'm just passing through Beregost."

The High Watcher nodded. "Indeed, a most logical explanation and one that might be believable, if you had been staying at a local inn. But the address listed here is, hmm…" Pentram glanced down at the parchment again, though he already knew the address he would find there. "7 Wheelwright Lane." He met the mage's eyes; the other man's face was stony. "Which, as it happens, is the address of one Alanya Sonest, a minor mage and the proprietress of a small magical goods shop in the main square. A nice young woman; I knew her parents before they passed away. Alanya has done well for herself, though she has shown an unfortunate tendency to fall in with…questionable companions." Pentram's voice hardened. "You have been living there with her for more than a month.

"You must realize that your…fanciful tale that a good and noble man like Sir Anomen is responsible for the estrangement between you and your wife would be much more plausible if you were with your wife trying to mend your marriage, rather than here, living with another woman. So let us drop the pretense, shall we?"

Pentram was certain he could hear the man grinding his teeth in frustration. Then, when he opened his mouth to speak, he began swearing, and kept swearing, loudly and earnestly. The High Watcher waited patiently for the swearing to subside. Normally, he would not have tolerated someone using such language in his presence, but he felt the man deserved a chance to express his feelings. He also felt that the mage was most likely not a complete blackguard; after all, he had shown sincere affection for his daughter.

When the swearing trailed off into angry muttering, the High Watcher said, "Do we understand each other, then, Mr. Coltrane?" The mage met his eyes, and nodded—he might be a rogue and a philanderer, but he was clearly no fool. But even though his face showed little emotion, Pentram could tell that he was seething under his calm façade.

"Yes, we understand each other," the man said grudgingly, "But are you saying that I just have to accept this, let my wife go through this…this absurd Rite, and that I have no say in it?"

Pentram hesitated for a moment. It was very tempting to answer 'yes' or let the man draw his own conclusions, but his duty compelled him to honesty. He sighed and said, "No, that is not the case. You were sent this formal notification of your wife's petition because you do have the right to be present if you wish, and to plead your case either for or against the petition. As a matter of fact, the Rite cannot proceed unless the spouse has been notified of where and when it will take place, and given the opportunity to attend."

"So I have to go to Athkatla?" the mage asked, looking disgruntled.

"Indeed, yes, if you wish to contest the petition. The Rite is scheduled to take place in a little more than two ten-days, which should be more than sufficient time for you to travel to Baldur's Gate and take a coaster to Athkatla from there. But if the cost of traveling to Athkatla is a concern for you, I noted that there is a rather unusual addendum on this document. Let's see…ah, here it is. Travel funds will be provided for you if you submit a request to Mssrs. Jansen and Turnipstone in Baldur's Gate." Pentram glanced at him speculatively. "It would seem, Mr. Coltrane, that someone wants to insure that you have no cause to complain that you could not be present at the Rite if you wished."

Coltrane ignored the High Watcher's last comment and instead, said, "Jansen and Turnipstone?" He shook his head and laughed mirthlessly. "Why am I not surprised?" Then the mage suddenly sat bolt upright in his chair. "Hold on—wasn't there something in there about the Rite being delayed under certain circumstances?"

Pentram nodded. "Yes, it is standard language in a notice of this kind. If the spouse of the petitioner wishes to attend the Rite but cannot due to illness, infirmity, or other extraordinary circumstance, he or she can request that it be delayed."

The mage smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Just what I was looking for! How do I arrange that?"

Pentram pushed the document across his desk toward the other man. "See for yourself. It is in the next-to-last paragraph."

Coltrane gave the High Watcher a puzzled look, but took the document and began to read the indicated passage. "It says I have to 'present proof of qualifying conditions to the superior of closest Temple of Helm' and request that he submit a request for delay in my name." The man looked up at the High Watcher with dawning comprehension. "That…that would be…"

High Watcher Pentram smiled tightly. "Yes, Mr. Coltrane, that would be me."

The mage deflated and briefly put his head in his hands before glancing up again. "I don't suppose…"

Pentram snorted. "No, Mr. Coltrane, I will not." The High Watcher was getting very irritated by the man's attitude, and this time, let it show in his voice. "Sir, I suggest you stop trying to evade your responsibility, and face the decision you have before you. You can either let the Rite proceed as planned, and simply accept the outcome, or you can travel to Athkatla to plead your case and hope that Helm denies your wife's petition. But I will not lie to you; in my judgment it is very unlikely that High Watcher Oisig would have counseled your wife to take this path unless he was reasonably sure of the result. Even if you are present for the Rite, I believe that chances are good that Helm will decide in your wife's favor and grant her petition."

The other man stood abruptly, the parchment still clutched in his hands. "We'll see about that, High Watcher!" he growled. He bowed perfunctorily. "Good day, sir."

"Good day, Mr. Coltrane." Pentram shook his head as he watched him go, annoyance and amusement at war on his features. He sat quietly for a few moments afterward, mulling over what had happened.

Then he recalled something that had been nagging at him since the beginning of the interview. He got up and began searching for a document from almost two years before that he knew was in his office somewhere. At last Pentram found it, in a stack of unremarkable announcements from various temples of Helm up and down the Sword Coast. He pulled it out with a glad cry, and sat down at his desk to read it.

It was the announcement of Sir Anomen Delryn's elevation as a Hand of Helm. And as was usual with such announcements, it included a brief description of Sir Anomen's life and accomplishments to date. And there it was, the connection High Watcher Pentram had been looking for. In part, it read:

Most notably, Sir Anomen traveled for over a year in the company of the Bhaalchild Merena, daughter of Gorion, renowned for performing great deeds in many lands, including averting a war between Baldur's Gate and Amn, and ending the Bhaalspawn conflict that devastated Tethyr. While in her company, Sir Anomen…

"My word!" the High Watcher exclaimed and sat back in his chair. Although he had never met this Merena, he had certainly heard of her many brave and generous deeds, in Baldur's Gate and elsewhere along the Sword Coast. As a matter of fact, she had rid Beregost of a particularly mad and dangerous priest of Cyric, Bassilus, who had been preying on innocents in the area.

Pentram had been considering whether to take further action on the matter that had come to his attention that morning, and this information decided the question for him. He selected a blank piece of parchment from the stack on his desk, and began writing.

To: High Watcher Oisig, Temple of Helm, Athkatla, Amn

Greetings in the name of Helm, the Ever-Vigilant!

Although I have never had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, High Watcher, your name has recently come to my attention under rather curious circumstances; and it is those circumstances of which I am writing to you today.

This morning, an agitated young man by the name of Kelsey Coltrane came to see me…