The black carriage lurched to a stop and General Teloran pushed the door open. By rights, this should have been her first destination, but she'd left it until last. The elf paced up the path to the church. Inside, a service was just ending, and the sparse congregation was rising to depart. When they had climbed aboard their meager transportation and left for their homes, Trigorah stepped inside, leaving the other Elites to guard the door.
"Father?" Trigorah called out.
"Enter, my child," came his voice from his chamber.
The general stepped inside.
"If my memory serves, I am again being honored by a visit from one of our esteemed generals," the priest said.
"I must ask you to come with me, Father," Trigorah stated.
"Much as I would like to aid you with whatever it is you seek, I am afraid my duties here forbid my absence," the priest assured her.
"It is not a request," Trigorah replied coldly.
"Not a request? Have I committed some crime?" the priest asked.
"Please, come with me," Trigorah pleaded.
She could feel something inside of her rebelling, and did all that she could to silence it.
"What have I done?" he demanded.
"You spoke with the girl, and she had the sword. I am ordered to detain all who may have touched it," Trigorah stated.
It was the first time she'd explained herself. It was the first time she'd felt compelled to. Until now, she'd been able to separate herself from her task. Now, even while his unseeing eyes were hidden, Trigorah swore she could feel his gaze searing her.
"I refuse to believe that our just and noble army would arrest an innocent man merely for having met some woman. I cast her out! She was a sympathizer, nothing more! My faith in our people and our war remains firm!" objected the holy man. "What could that horrid girl have said or done to warrant this! What could I have possibly done!?"
"I am a general. It is your duty as a subject of the Northern Alliance to do as I tell you," the general reminded him.
"It is in my nature to trust in the word of my fellow man, but there is no way that a general would do such a thing. Prove it to me. Generals carry a seal, do they not? Let me feel it!" he demanded.
Before she could stop herself, Trigorah found that she was undoing the fastening on her left arm, to reveal the symbol of service. Normally, she would have refused, but there was something about his words. They were spoken with such conviction, such strength. This was a man who knew what he believed to be true. There was no doubt. His faith was unshakable. The force of it permeated his every word. It was something that she had to respect. Finally she was able to reveal the gold band against her skin.
"The band awarded to me on the day of my selection as a general. The symbol of my rank, and of my loyalty to the Alliance," she said, guiding his hand to it.
"Yes . . . yes, I see . . . That is how it is done," he said, his voice distant. "Then you are a general after all. And you believe that it is right to take me away with you?"
"I believe it is necessary," she replied.
"That is not what I asked," he said.
"It doesn't matter what is right. What must be done must be done," she said, drawing her blade with a slow, deliberate motion to prolong its ring.
"So it must . . ." he said rising and heading toward the door. As he walked, he spoke, quietly. "That girl . . . that blasted girl . . . I hope it is worth it . . ."