A Philanthropist
Winski sat on the couch next to Jelena, touching her hand.
- "Who is Jelbeth Lamar, Jelena?" he asked.
But Peri spoke up before Jelena could.
- "I think that can wait. There is the corpse to deal with… um, Jelena… well, it seems that your expertise would be of use after all….and whatever we do we can't leave Ali here so we have to take him with us. We'd better get out as soon as possible and hope that a servant or guard doesn't see us. That would complicate matters," she said.
The others nodded, acknowledging that she spoke sense. Sarevok gently picked Ali up. The boy didn't seem scared of the strangers, not even too surprised by their presence. Sarevok guessed that he had submitted into just accepting anything that happened, not feeling like a person able to make decisions about himself any more. His heart ached.
Assisted by the simultaneously horrified and impressed Peri, Jelena dreamily and serenely disposed of the corpse, smiling strangely. When the last of the corroded liquid was washed away she came out of it and swallowed a sob, her face pinched in anguish again.
Imoen cast invisibility upon them, and they left through the window of the room. As they made their way through the streets, quiet and forlorn, Ali squeezed Sarevok hard and Jelena was stunned in pain, just staring ahead.
- "Jelena? Who is that man?" Imoen asked, very worried. If there was a serene person filled with quiet strength, it was Jelena. What could possibly shake her like that?
- "I can't believe this. Jelbeth Lamar is... well loved and respected among the Ilmatari. A philanthropist, a devout worshiper of the Crying God. He has an orphanage and has helped countless orphans, found home to many. An orphanage!"
Peri uttered a silent curse through her gritted teeth.
- "I wonder just what kind of home he has found for those orphans," she snarled.
- "Well... there was the detail of... 'exchanging'... the children," Winski said grimly. He glanced at Jelena, very worried. Her faith was so important to her... this was a blow indeed.
- "He could very well have been a person I would have suggested trusting," Jelena spoke, her voice hollow. "To stop the operation and to take Ali home."
She cried for a while.
- "How can my Lord let this happen? How can he let someone sully his name so? Perhaps... perhaps it is someone else..." But the hope in her voice was a tiny dying thread she didn't believe in even herself.
- "It is best to assume that it is the same person, Jelena. It is quite possible, and all the more important that we stop him if it indeed is so," Winski said. "And you know that gods are not omnipotent. Which is a good thing too, considering that there are such ones as Cyric and Loviatar."
- "I am not a priest but..." Imoen started, looking insecure but very willing to comfort Jelena. "... anyone can claim to pray to a god or worship him. It is not like the Ilmatari spy on whether he is actually praying. A priest is a different thing. Then the gods know. But Ilmater probably doesn't know of him, as he doesn't really pray to him. He is just using the reputation of the Crying God as a way to get his paws on the children."
Jelena nodded, her tears subsiding a little.
- "Awwwww... goody-two-shoeses lady all sadsadsad," Cespenar pouted.
- "Jelena, dear. Let me hug you," Winski said. They stopped walking for a while, and Winski offered comfort to Jelena in the only way he could think of. He gave a grateful look to Imoen, whose words seemed to have eased Jelena's pain a little. "Would you like to hold Twiggy a little? She'd like to comfort you too."
Jelena nodded, and took the warm and silky snake in her hands.
Ali was whispering something into Sarevok's ear, then glancing fearfully at the others.
- "It seems it is the same man," Sarevok said grimly. "Ali has been talking with other children in the slave ship. And a few of them were from the said orphanage. The man apparently sends them to that bastard Marshwall as payment for the ones delivered to him, claiming to the priests that he has found a home for them. He has a fresh supply of children to feast on... no shortage of orphans in Sembia."
Sarevok shuddered in anger, his eyes burning.
- "That kind of beast... I have every bit as vivid violent urges as I had in... those days," he said. "Am I still evil for it?"
Winski shook his head.
- "I would say even the saintliest of us would feel anger when faced with vile cowards like these."
Sarevok nodded, then took a look at the child in his arms, a gentler look in his eyes.
- "Ali, please. Don't be afraid of me. I feel strong anger, yes... but for you I only feel willingness to protect... if you still can remember what that is, poor child," he sighed.
- "We should be able to trust someone," Jelena said. "We can't deal with this on our own. But how can I ever trust anyone again?"
