Chapter 97

Birian was a priest so when he walked down the street in the market people showed their reverence to him. They made way for him to pass and greeted him even calling out for him to pray to the gods for them. He did his best to smile at them in passing, even exchanging a few words to some but at the same time, he hoped they would leave him be. His body ached from the punishment he served for being an accomplice to Cleopoda's failed escape. Federic, the old fool had had him wiped with the leather discipline, a long hard strip of leather usually used to control the animals in the temple's pen. His back throb and his skin itched, he longed to scratch at his injuries but he couldn't. The cloak he wore over his priestly robe was like a burden to him, it pressed his robe so that it stuck with his scarred flesh. As he walked on towards the weapon shop he clenched his fist against the pain and the failure of their plans.