sanctificetur nomen tuum

Hallowed be Thy name.

It had rained again. It had been raining almost every day since his departure.

As if the sky was mourning that he left his place to look for what meant most to him.

He remembered his arrival in Everett four months ago. When he left for this person he discovered that nothing had changed. He started roaring and sallied forth upcountry the next day.

The sky abided by him and had been crying more tears than he saw in his homeland in Spain.

Then he was there: Granite Falls. It lasted two hours to find a saloon which this person visited often.

He checked in and paid more Dollars than usual to make sure the owner would keep his mouth shut, due to his arrival. After this, he explored the small town.

It was cozy although you could even feel up here in the North the approach of the war and the fear and the strain.

He found a church and entered it without timidity because in this holy building he was on familiar ground.

A bald headed monk noticed him and came to him.

"God bless you, son." He made the sign of a cross in front of the young man. "Be welcome in His sacred halls."

He nodded and a blonde streak fell into his face as he looked around.

"Thanks to you, friar. I am glad to walk under his eyes again."

The monk retreated as he made clear that he wanted to pray alone.

He took a hackneyed rosary made of marble pearls out of his coat pocket and placed himself in front of a bad copy of the Virgin Mary.

"Forgive me for I am going to sin like you have been accused to do."

Afterwards he prayed eight pearls of the rosasy. He perceived the presence of the monk and was alerted of what might have passed the door.

His only protection was the LeMat revolver. And that, in his opinion, was not enough.

Well... Before he left he threw some loose cash into the offering bowl. Instantly, like he had expected, the monk appeared next to him and thanked him.

"Tell me, friar, do you know something about a man who passes this town every now and then? He has dark hair and sells, as far as i know, coats. He's a loner, not very talkative."

The older man thought for a moment and nodded.

"Yes, I think I know about whom you are talking. The man you're looking for is a trapper and has been strolling through the forests around the town recently. He comes here regulary to pray. He is a godly lamb of my humble herd. But most of his time he spends in the saloon or the market."

Blue eyes sparkled with surprise. He goes to church, voluntarily? He remained calm.

"Do you know something else, friar?"

"Well, I have to say that he often gets into fights and duels. But until now he was always the winner."

Now the blonde man showed his surprise.

"Duels? Do good sword fighters exist here?"

"Swords?" The monk gave him a blank look. "No, I've never seen anyone with swords here before. The duels take place with revolvers."

His nose started tickling. Were they talking about the same person?

"Could you tell me the name of the trapper? Maybe we've been talking about different people."

The monk hesitated and a few extra coins found their way into the offering bowl. The old eyes sparkled.

"Yes, maybe it would be good to know the name, unless we want to talk about different people. He calls himself Rona... a weird name, don't you think? He..."

The monk wanted to continued but he stopped him. Rona...!? Why that name?

"I thank you, friar. You helped a member of the fraternity a lot. God will watch you with mildness."

Suddenly the eyes of the monk were filled with fear.

"The fraternity? Sir, why haven't you told me?"

An icy smile creeped over the young lips and disappeared shortly after.

"Because I travel incognito and want to stay unknown but it could be that I will need your help again that's why I decided to tell you who I am. Do you understand, friar?" The mink nodded eagerly, dread in his eyes.

"My duty is important so I swear to God, the Almighty, that you will keep silent about me!"

The bald head nodded again and the old man was shaking. He was scared. Members of the fraternity were spread over the known and the unknown world to carry out secret duties.

It was said that they got their tasks from the Holy Father himself. And did everything for the fulfillment. Eventually, every sin had been forgiven before. The monk eyed up his vis-a-vis.

A young man, twen, dressed like a noble merchant or teacher. Blonde hair framed the keen face and covered one of the blue eyes and that gave his whole appearance a mystic aura.

He sure had been a darling in his monastery. Religous eagerness sparkled in the eyes, the monk assumed.

The young man nodded and disappeared towards the exit, not without letting a coin fall into the offering bowl, embossed with the seal of the Holy Father.

Then the door was closes and the monk sit down on one of the hard wooden benches.

"Oh God, what did my poor lamb do?"

But in his thoughts he made preparations for a secret funeral. Because there was no doubt that Rona was going to die.