Elden Ring: Putrefaction of Gold

The Fruit of the Tree

Rykard leaned over the mantle where the fire simmered down to a few red embers. As Ghiza droned on, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the Inquisitor's excuses. He never liked the man. Ghiza was the sort who seemed more interested in proving the legitimacy of his position than any genuine interests in the realm. There were even rumors about him, or another of his kin, saying prayers a separate Outer God. And Rykard came to suspect this might be the reason that the leprous inquisitor was so anxious to explain—and excuse his previous actions.

It was only fortunate that Marika was distracted by other things when that fiasco in Weeping Peninsula occurred involving the cult of the Soulless Demigods. Having a promissory note from the queen also meant a serious inquiry if Marika ever learned that Ghiza interfered with their affairs in anyway. Ghiza seemed oblivious to this fact and continued to defend the integrity of his work.

"I question in all seriousness, how such individuals could have come into such favor with Marika," Ghiza stated.

"Inquisitor, you have been made aware at this meeting that my sister is in a bad place at this time, were you not?" said Rykard.

"I was. Though I'm not sure all the details."

"And that it is for me not to be held up too long away from her?"

"Of course."

"Then why in the bloody Shadow Lands are you bothering me with this meeting? I have said before and I will say again that I am not interested in revisiting this matter," shouted Rykard.

Ghiza was taken aback for a moment.

"Forgive me," he said in his raspy voice as his ailment long destroyed his vocal chords. "But I was under the impression that the integrity of the Golden Order is based entirely on our intolerance for heresy."

"My dear boy," sighed Rykard. "That is what we say to the masses, but the reality is we tolerate whatever it is that Marika tells us to tolerate. And if she feels this cult serves whatever purpose, she will tolerate it."

"It has been my experience that very often these heretics grow emboldened more once they believe themselves to be beyond all reproach."

"Did I not make myself clear, Ghiza? We do nothing! I do not care that you spent the last... however many years it was tracking them down. This matter is over."

"But..."

"I think it is well to say that it is time for you to leave, Inquisitor," said Tanith. "The Praetor has other matters he cares to attend."

Rykard gave a grateful sigh. Far more diplomatic than him throwing his wine glass at the incompetent fool, which thankfully, he didn't follow through.

When Ghiza was gone, Rykard gave his wife a weary smile. In a way, he felt his entire private chambers were blighted by the leper. It was late, and Rykard was already in his robes to retire after a long journey from Leyndell when the Inquisitor insisted on this private, unofficial meeting at once.

"Do not fret over him, my love. Ghiza merely wished to save face," Tanith explained.

"If there is a face left under all those bandages," scoffed Rykard. "If it wasn't for House Marias willingness to do all the jobs that no one else wants, I would have rid myself of those festering, smelly slobs."

Tanith raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know," said Rykard. "I wouldn't wish anyone to talk about my sister like that concerning her similar disease. Still, I have to admit, he does ask a good question. How did Lhutal and her rabble get such a valuable overlook by the queen? Such a thing would require a letter of introduction, at least! It begs the question as to what use she has to Marika?"