Midday seemed, to Khenbish’s mind, the easiest time to make their way to the cemetery. The searing eye of the sun at her zenith would hopefully have discouraged mourners, and he estimated that grounds should be relatively quiet until later in the day. He doubted that those in grief would much appreciate their poking around.

Before entering the graveyard proper, however, it seemed prudent to speak to the priest.

Khenbish had been correct. The mourners were scarce. The sun scorched hot but both Unicorn had grown up in The Sands. This was hardly a problem for them.

She was silently grateful she had not worn a kimono today as it airier was much easier to move about. As she looked for the priest, she wondered upon the different crypts and gravesites. So many cultures catered to in what was a relatively small place for all its diversity.

It looked as though Khenbish had spotted the priest and Akaichou followed his gaze. "Do you suppose that's him?"

The kohl around Khenbish’s eyes helped somewhat against the glare, and he squinted slightly, “only one way to find out,” he grunted, and began walking in that direction.

Man called Ben, dressed in a black robe with a hood, was moving among Merenaese graves, picking up wilted flowers from tombstones to carry them to the dumpster.

Khenbish cleared his throat loudly as he and the Ide girl approached, heralding their presence while they were still several feet away. As he did most days, the Moto was wearing a white kurta and matching sirwal, orange Shinjo mon above the green Moto sigil on his right sleeve, parangu at his right hip. His arms hung at his sides, hands open and ready.

"Salaam alaikum. Inshinjauh*, do you have someone to bury?" Ben asked after turning.

---

* Shinjo be merciful.

Rather something to dig up, Khenbish thought bluntly, but words were the Ide purview, so he waited for Akaichou to speak instead.

"We feel fortunate that is not the case today." Akaichou inclined her head. "We came to offer our respects to someone important to our clan." She motioned to both she and the Moto beside her. "We do not know his final resting place. If it is not out of line, may I ask you to escort us? We're looking for Archibald Dunfrey." She looked around the graveyard, indicating she had little idea where to go.

Ben rubbed his tonsured head.

"Forgive me, Sayyeda, but how an old Thranish pirate can be an important person for the Unicorn?"

The young Ide smiled, face open. 'He seems to know of him. Details, even, by the mere mention of the name.' Akaichou folded her hands. "He had in his possession something of historical significance to us. Since his death it has not been treated with the same sense he showed. It seemed... disrespectful not to visit the man who once held the whole." She softly approached him in a friendly manner. "Did you know him?"

Khenbish frowned slightly, too open, she gives away too much. The Moto was more lithe than strong, but his hands flexed in unconscious anticipation. If the priest insisted on prying into matters of no concern to him, Khenbish would put an end to the conversation.

"As much as I can know a man who I first see when he's dead. But if you want to dig him out, I don't think I can allow that." Ben became slightly skittish.

The Ide side-stepped the issue of uncovering a man at rest for the moment. "You were the one to bury him then? I hope he was appropriately attended. Everyone should have someone beside them in the end, do you agree?"

Khenbish studied the priest, left eye glaring, is graverobbing a problem here? or is the priest just the touchy type? He glanced out across the crowded graves, it seemed quiet, peaceful.

"I did the best I could but he was not brought to me in the best of shapes. Parts of him were still flowing out from the bladework done to him." Ben mused.

Khenbish grunted and gave the priest a dark look, charming.

“You dance pretty well for a priest,” he growled. “I think you know what we’re asking. He had something on him, something valuable. Something you kept for yourself,” the Moto accused in a low voice.

"No, Sidi. I don't rob those under my care. Even if I cannot always protect them from it." The self-proclaimed ecumenical priest stared back. "You cannot scare me. Death has been my friend for a long time." He paused. "I buried him with his cutlass, his hat and his journal. Those were the only things he was left with. But his grave was robbed a week ago, and the journal was gone."

“Robbed by who?” Khenbish snapped, his right eye flashed angrily, but his left just stared, huge and bottomless.

"Good question. I'd like to know too. The best lead I can give is that the graverobber had one leg, and a wooden peg for the other. The prints he or she left in the ground pointed to it." Ben sighed.

"That's awful." Akaichou stated honestly, and for more reasons than the loss of the journal. "No one should have their final resting place disturbed in such a fashion." She inclined her head.

"I think we would still like to pay our respects." She told the priest. Nowhere better than an area populated only by deaf ears to discuss what to do next.