Tipping the Scale

The price of idealism (2/3)

"Time for confessions!"

The harsh voice of one of the guards almost scared her after being in complete silence for so long. The door swung open with such force that it hit the wall and she could see the two guards now. Both with a weapon in hand and their helmet closed, not giving her a chance to see their faces. It was to keep her from getting familiar with them, she guessed. Though she doubted that they would have given her any leeway anyway. Her eyes then fell on the man clothed in the drab brown colored robe so distinctive for priests of the pleberien faith. Annoyance filled her at the thought that she would have to spend her last precious hours talking to a deceitful charlatan of the church. She wanted to refuse but to her own surprise, she didn't. If he was here to hear her confession, than she would die the next day. Equal parts relief and desperation whirled through her body. Relief that the wait would finally be over and desperation as it was now definitive. She would die tomorrow. Even though she hated the church and all it stood for, she couldn't deny that she at least wanted to talk to someone for one last time. Even if it was with a brainwashed idiot.

One of the guards drew nearer and she instinctively moved away until her back hit the wall behind her. The guard wanted to say something but a hand on his armbrace stopped him.

"No need to shackle her, dear sir. She won't harm me."

Something about the priests voice sounded odd to her, it was rough. More rough than she would expect of a priest, more like the voice of someone who is used to shout a lot. Like a sailor or knight. Almost as soon as the thought had formed, she dismissed it. She recognized that her desperation was making her grasp for straws. Trying to find anything that would mean that she would survive. The man had a distinctive voice which could mean something, but probably was just a peculiarity.

"Your excellence, I cannot leave her unbound. It is for your protection. If we do not, than I insist that my colleague and I stay here while you talk with her."

"I see. Though I do not like it, I do want her last confessions to be done properly under the eyes of God. I will let you bind her."

"Thank you for your understanding, your excellence."

The idea that she was to be treated like a common criminal who was prepared to attack an innocent man, disturbed her. Still, she understood that this was the normal procedure and held still while offering her hands to be shackled. There was no point in resisting. His partner had his sword ready while guarding the door. Even if she miraculously escaped the two men in front of her, her weakened state would prevent Lidea from getting past the other guard.

"She is awfully quiet, maybe one of the rats has gotten to her tongue. I doubt she has anything useful to tell god anyway."

The two guards laughed but the third man just dutifully bowed his head.

"Only god will be able to tell. Even if she does not confess anything, I and God with me, will keep her company for this short time."

Lidea was almost touched by the idea that the priest would stay by her side to just offer her some condolence even though her stance on the church was well known. Maybe she had become too judgmental. Even if she disliked the religion, it did not mean that all people who followed it were awful. Maybe he was one of those better few.

"My apologies, your excellence. We shall leave you for the confession. Please knock on the door whenever you are ready, we will not be far away."

The guard looked her way and she could almost feel the warning glare, although she couldn't see it through the visor of his helmet.

"Do not make us come here unnecessarily, treat his excellence with the honor that he deserves."

Lidea nodded silently but the guard didn't wait for her reply and left her cell, locking the door behind him. She listened carefully, counting to herself while the footsteps distanced themselves. They stopped only moments after, telling her that they were waiting close by.