“You don’t heat it, sir. People tend to bring their own pan warmer. And it’s Lurin, sir.” He sighed with all the exasperation of someone that would never be listened to.
“That’s what I said. Andheat pans?” Falustus sighed, dragging the poor lad off behind him. His shaggy mop of hair hung over his face, half covering his eyes with twisted brown locks catching the odd flicker of dust-laden light at just the right angle to reflect odd colors from stained glass. In the right strip, he was quite cute, but in others, he was only as he appeared, a trampled and abandoned friar to a religion that no longer existed in that land.
Lurin stumbled, freckled hand clenching back against Lust’s firm grip.
The stink of humans floated around the vestibule and halls in a malingering sort of way. Body odor, soil, excreta… Ghreid fished into his breast pocket to draw out his embroidered handkerchief to hold up to his nose. As they passed through the boarding hall, where clergy housed themselves when the place still operated as a church, a distinct scent of stale sex hung in the air, that of men alone. “For a religion that forbade homosexuality, they sure did engage in same-sex relations quite often.”
Lurin choked and cleared his throat. “Th-there were—not permitted wives. Women are—distractions. I just—I haven’t.”
Falustus gave the skinny boy a second glance and frowned. “Virginity is a pesky thing. Rid yourself of it. Like a disease. It’ll spread, and that’s how religion happens.”
As Lurin registered what Falustus said, his face cycled through a myriad of emotions that ended with dejected resignation. “Religionhashappened.”
“And you’re a virgin.” Falustus sighed heavily. “I’d have to be subjected to the repetitive missives and lifetime of servitude only to be denied my truest pleasure.”
“P-prayer can be it’s own pleasure.” Lurin followed, his worn robes hanging limply over his body, sleeves too long for his form, as if handed down to him from several acolytes before. His pale, chapped fingers fidgeted over the fraying hems.
“The only prayer Falustus knows is,Oh gods, yes, yes!” Ghreid snorted, and Lust turned, brow furrowed.
“I don’t sound like that when I fuck.” Lust gave Ghreid a quick up and down glance, upper lip curled incredulously.
“Would be awkward if I did.” Ghreid returned the sneer and strode away from his brother, inspecting cracking mortar in thewalls. He made a mental note to have the mason and apprentices out that way soon. “Nobody wants to hear that.”
Lust’s erratic steps stopped, the clattering of footfalls of the simpering acolyte stumbling to a halt behind him. “Truly? Lurin does.”
A wretched sound tore free of the boy, somewhere between a squeak and a choke.
Ghreid huffed and forged ahead. “The structural integrity of the place is intact, but there’s so much upkeep that needs to be done.”
“We haven’t had funding from the—” Lurin cowered when Ghreid glanced over. “I’ve not seen funding…”
“Your superiors, which have been sent away and did not see fit to take you, had plenty of money. They chose not to.” Ghreid kicked at a flagstone, the plate of it wobbling. “I’ll send the mason sooner.”
“Nobody has discussed with me as to who will be paying for all this?” Falustus turned on his heel, and Ghreid waved him off.
“I’ll front the cost of it. The building will be on indefinite lease as property of the kingdom. Ashen and attendants trained will be financed by dragons and we can negotiate from there.” Ghreid sighed. “Money is already flowing in quite nicely and we’ve only half the beaches cleaned and 10 percent of the ports operational.”
“Excellent. I’ve not the skill for money you have, but that’s never been my calling.” Lust ducked into what appeared to be a study and glanced around. “How many copies of the missives of Baltheir does one place need?”
“One for every stu—” Lurin started but faltered when Lust continued on.
“None? Wonderful. I’ll see them burned.” He kept walking and the poor lad sagged.
“Do answer me this, why is the acolyte still here?” Ghreid stared at the crestfallen boy.
“Oh. When you ordered the priests out, they left him behind as acaretakerfor the building as his family hadn’t been financing him.” Lust gave the boy a second glance.
“They abandoned me.” Lurin sank in on himself.
“Anyway, I pity him and he amuses me. He may stay. I’ll make an agnostic of him yet.” Lust hand waved the matter on, and Ghreid pondered offering the boy an apprenticeship somewhere, or even sending him back to his family, but that seemed wrong. He had to trust Falustus knew what he was doing.
Ghreid glanced back toward his brother who sat poking a very pert and hyperdetailed nipple on an otherwise unremarkable statue.On second thought.“I could take the boy off your hands. Find an apprenticeship.”
“I wish to stay here for when they send for me. I promised I wouldn’t leave. Please.” Lurin’s pleading eyes broke something in Ghreid’s heart. A memory flashed of a lonely man wasting away on a grounded, barnacle-laden ship, guarding a casket he believed would save him. The temple was his ship, sinking or no.
“He’s harmless. Maybe if he sticks around, he’ll lose the piety.” Falustus strode purposefully into another wing and sneered out a dingy window. “Or gain some…”
Ghreid followed his gaze, adjusting to the outside light filtering in through the rippled, bubble-laden glass. A giant statue stood in the center of a neglected garden, another statue dedicated to Baltheir, this one naked, and far too detailed. Also, unimpressive.
