One Follower At a Time, Part Iii

...One night when he was compiling a list of wisdom that the prophet said, he heard, in the darkness, his name spoken, in a harried voice that would frighten the dead. He turned, and from the shadows out stepped Kel’vid the mason, sire of Dehlarain, in one hand he held a long dagger, on his face were the tight lines of pain. He advanced slowly, not speaking a word, Pelchag cried out,”I’m a servant of God! Your daughter faced the justice that she earned, she had broken our great prophet’s law!” Kel’vid just froze, stared pure hate at him, then spoke in a dark and gravelly tongue: “No man of god would murder a woman because she acted stupid, young, and dumb. “At first I didn’t mind the new faith, it seemed that it could clean up a few things, but then you take away our alcohol, and I noticed that things got disturbing. “And then you steal music from all of us, what kind of God would frown at such joy? But still I was willing to put up with it, even though it grated and annoyed. “But to go and kill a man’s daughter… all because of your damn jealousy! You already had two whores in your bed, but you just had to go out and get three! “And now you lie and claim it was all God’s will, that you just obey his ‘holy prophet,’ perhaps Gods will send a prophet someday, nut it’s quite clear that he hasn’t yet. “The old faith may have been rather corrupt, but at least it stuck to its damned place! Didn’t insert itself into a man’s home, didn’t murder their daughters with hate.” He then bent closed and whispered these words, mere moments before the cleric did die, “Know that I’m going to kill the prophet, one follower at a time.”