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"Thank you for showing me this," Moran said.
Tarli smiled, looked at the knight affectionately.
"Uncle Moran, you've been good to me."
"Uncle Moran? You may call me 'Father.' "
Tarli nodded, almost shyly. "I'd like that. You know,
you've been almost a spiritual guide to me - "
Moran, holding Rakiel's tracing of the knights' treasury,
had a wild idea.
"I may still be your guide," he said slowly. "Tell me,
Tarli, where will you go from here?"
Tarli frowned, considering. "No idea," he said finally.
"Maybe to meet my mother's people again. I've been with
them, and they're nice." He frowned still more, and Moran
was reminded forcibly of himself. "But sometimes I think I
ought to make something of myself."
Moran took a deep breath and said carefully, "Have
you considered the clergy?"
From his blank expression, clearly Tarli never had.
The blankness turned to wonder. "You know, you're
right," Tarli said excitedly. "They're perfect. I'd have a
wonderful time. The more I know of clerics, the more their
code seems more like mine than the knights' does." He
looked up suddenly at Moran. "No offense."
"Oh, none." Moran hid a smile.
"Tell me, do the clerics accept common - accept people
like me?"
Ah, Tarli, Moran thought fondly, there ARE no other
people like you
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