"Of course, sir," Vambran replied, trying not to appear wary, though he was feeling very suspicious.

There was no reason why someone as high in the temple's hierarchy as Lavant would bother to sit in on a meeting between officers of the mercenary company. That told the lieutenant that the Grand Trabbar was up to something, and he was pretty sure it had to do with getting him out of the way of the cover-up of the murders. He smoothed his expression as the pair of them entered Captain Vertucio's office.

The captain was seated behind a desk, looking over some roster lists, when the high priest and the lieutenant arrived. His eyes brightened at the sight of Vambran.

"Ah, good, he found you!" the officer said. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to send out a search party."

Vambran smiled slightly and said, "I'm very sorry, sir. As I explained to the Grand Trabbar, things are just a little bit manic at our estate right now. My sister's birthday party is tonight."

"Ah, right!" Captain Vertucio said. "I remember you mentioning that. Well, then, I'm sorry to pull you away from your family affairs, but I've got important news. We're going to be shipping the entire company out at first light tomorrow. I'm putting you in charge of logistics. You need to get started immediately."

Kovrim closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in frustration. He held that for several moments, massaging the flesh to stave off the headache he could sense was coming. The priest let out a long, slow sigh, trying to relax his whole body, and the effect was startling. He hadn't realized how tense his shoulders were until he consciously relieved them.

The Syndo was getting nowhere in his search for some evidence that would reveal who was involved in the business deal at which Grand Trabbar Lavant had hinted. Whatever Lavant had going on that might be connected to the deaths of the two commoners, no one knew anything about it, and there was no record of it in the temple's business logs, current or archives. The high priest had done a good job of hiding it, if it did exist, which Kovrim was beginning to doubt. He was about ready to throw his hands up in despair and tell his nephew that there was nothing to pursue. Or, that Vambran would have better luck following up other leads, such as with the dead girl's mother.

Then Kovrim considered a possibility that hadn't occurred to him before. It made him feel ill at ease, for it was far from honest.

Then again, he told himself, if there's something going on, do I not have a responsibility to expose it before it brings woe to the entire temple?

The argument didn't feel terribly convincing. Claiming that the ends justified the means had never held much water with Kovrim, and he certainly didn't like falling back on it simply out of convenience then. Still, he felt a sense of urgency to do whatever it took to uncover the truth. If that meant a tumble from grace, then so be it. He could atone later, if that was what was required, or suffer the persecutions otherwise. He had to exercise every available option given to him. For Vambran's sake.

After all, he thought, I gave him that crossbow when he was twelve.

Nodding as if to convince himself, Kovrim scurried out of the records room and back to his own offices. If he was going to do it, he would have to know beforehand that it would offer up results. He shut the door and slid the bolt home, locking the portal securely. Then he sat down at his desk and took several deep, calming breaths. Afterward, he pulled his ceremonial prayer accoutrements out of the drawer of his desk and arranged them carefully on its surface.

First, Kovrim lit a taper from one of the lanterns in his office and used it to light some incense, which he placed in an open bowl. Once the smoke from that began to fill the room and he was sure it would not go out, the priest poured a bit of water from a stone pitcher he kept handy into a second bowl, a larger one, and set that right before him. He pulled a pouch open and dumped a handful of gold coins, five-sided Sembian nobles, out onto the desk, which he began to drop into the bowl of water one by one. As each coin splashed and tumbled to the bottom of tile bowl, Kovrim spoke a word of thanks, or of offering, or a plea for divine favor. When twenty-five coins were piled in the bowl, Kovrim closed his eyes and began to pray.

The priest sat that way for a very long time, murmuring his entreaties to Waukeen, fervently asking for guidance in what he was about to do. He formed the question he wanted answered in his mind, thinking only of it, letting the words of the prayer fall from his lips by rote, focusing every other part of himself on divining the answer. He willed himself to perfect calmness, let the odor of the incense and the joyous presence of his deity wash over him. He was at peace when he prayed, whether he was simply acknowledging his goddess's favor with appreciation, or he was drawing on the Merchant Friend for miraculous magic. That was his life, his dedication, and he felt no fear, no doubt, when he was in such a state.

After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, but which Kovrim knew was perhaps ten minutes from watching others perform such a prayer, he spoke the question aloud, calmly but firmly, requesting his goddess grant him guidance through its answer.

"Tell me, Lady of Trade, if I shall invade the sanctuary of my quarry and discover the confirmation I seek. Reveal to me, O goddess of coin and barter, if I peruse my adversary's private records, shall I discover the proof I need? Will I find a record of his secret business dealings?"

Almost immediately, a voice, an angelic voice-no, it was beyond angelic; it was power and love and wisdom itself-spoke to him, filled his mind with the answer.

The light of veracity will shine upon all that is hidden from you. Your heart will know the truth it seeks.

All at once the voice, the presence Kovrim had felt, the spirit of his deity, was gone, and he was left sitting alone in his office. He opened his eyes and peered about, feeling displaced for a moment, like he wasn't where he had expected to be. His fervent prayers always left him feeling that way, and it was comforting, in an odd sort of way, for it confirmed that he was totally devoted to Waukeen at those times, and let nothing else intrude on his deference and dedication.

The bowl with the coins and the water was empty, the sacrifice taken, as Kovrim knew it would be. Nodding in satisfaction, he took hold of the incense and carefully, almost reverently, ground it out, tapping the ash free of the remainder. Then he put his accoutrements away, setting them back in the drawer. Once he was finished, he sat back, staring at the wall for several moments, considering the answer to his prayer. He would find the answers he sought if he went and ransacked Lavant's personal things in his office. Now he knew that evidence existed, and that he would find it if he had the courage to follow through with his plan.

But should he? Kovrim wondered, still having doubts even after his divination. He supposed he should have expected to still feel reluctant, considering what was at stake. On the one hand, he still had no certain knowledge that the evidence would show anything other than that Lavant had arranged a business relationship between the temple and some merchants or similar partners. It might not give any credence at all to the suspicion that Lavant was actively covering up crimes. Indeed, Lavant might be truly guilty of nothing other than bad judgment in picking business partners.

On the other hand, if the high priest was guilty of much more than simple poor assessment of his associates, Kovrim felt a need to expose it, before it caused severe damage to the temple as a whole, both spiritually and financially. Regardless of the risk to himself, Kovrim had to know for sure. If he was wrong, then he might simply look the fool and receive punishment for invading the high priest's personal quarters unbidden. But if not…