Free Tales Of Grimea by Andrew Mowere

simple
minded like that. Then again, Adra was the same way, so the warrior
counted it as a blessing for his psion friend. “The guards track
poison bought legally through merchant ledgers, and you can’t get
that many types anyways. Besides, Uncle Salim said whoever
commissioned this job wanted to get caught eventually. If you ask
me, the only logical conclusion is they want to scare someone by
using that kind of poison. If you catch Worg poison early enough,
you can treat the victim. If not, you’ll at least know it was an
assassination.”
    Percy whistled slowly, looking at Hwosh with
renewed respect. “Are you sure about becoming a warrior? You’d make
a good scholar, if a bit on the muscly side.” Hwosh mocked lunging
at the man and he flinched, causing the warrior to laugh. Good to
know he wasn’t reading his mind at the moment.
    “So what’s for dinner today? And where’s
Adra?” Usually, Percy’s lover was inseparable from him. Despite the
two being different in many concrete ways, her age being foremost
in that list, the two still got along amiably. At first, the
warrior had even suspected foul play on the psion’s part.
    “Oh, she went to Hydra’s temple for a quick
prayer,” answered Percy, giving the warrior pause. Hydra… that was
the goddess of… “Luck?”
    “Exactly. You know, for a Lorian you really
don’t know much about religions, do you?”
    “Nah, not really my interest. Uncle saw early
on that I had no faith in gods and forces beyond our understanding.
He let me be. Besides, the eastern religion is much simpler. One
god, almighty. You’re rewarded in the afterlife based on how much
you did for the opportunity given. I have no patience for all that
Regalian nonsense about nine gods and distributions of powers and
flowery glass. They’re all about pomp and the priests fancying
things up.”
    “Huh.”
    “You know? Last month Niners talked up a
storm at the council all about how they’re underfunded for golden
chandeliers at their temples. The councillors showed them El’s
temples. Mud and clay things, they were. All their funds go to
charity, and the Niners went back disappointed. Anyway, religions
are just nonsense, so it hardly matters. All empty promises and
claims no one can prove. I thought you’d agree.”
    By the time Hwosh implied that question,
Percy was deep in a mug of tea he’d prepared earlier. The man
spluttered for a bit and the scent of lavender filled the air. “I
mean, I see what you’re saying,” he gasped a few coughs later, “but
the more you learn about the world, the more amazing it seems. I
don’t mind people believing what they want. Besides, there are
concrete benefits that come from organized groups like religions.
Unity and peace of mind, that sort of thing. People commit suicide
less often too.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Sure. I say to each their own. Adra’s a
Niner, and it makes her happy. Who am I to butt into it? Most
psions feel the same way, because we can see exactly how deeply
each person cares about his or her religion. It’s a beautiful
thing. Besides, she might very well be right. Who knows? Can’t
really prove her wrong, can we?”
    Hwosh thought about it for a second, but he
had made up his mind about such things a long time ago, upon seeing
a small dog being kicked away by a priest’s handlers. The man had
watched on in contempt at first. Then the dog had died, and people
started booing him. The priest had then raised his arms wide and
announced a revelation, saying the dog was going to the third
circle of Sol’s heaven, for his owner had died the night before,
just shy of sundown. As the simple beggars began to cheer, Hwosh
kept the truth about the dog’s owner to himself. Poor old Shemsa
still didn’t know where her puppy had disappeared that day. “Bah,”
he announced, “If it makes them happy, then sure, but if the sun is
dragged across the sky by Sol’s invisible rope each day, then I’m a
yal.” Nobody wanted to be a