Murphy felt pity for the poor bastards that sold themselves so cheaply for material gain, material wealth. Sure and all, he wasn't anyone's idea of a good man; he'd made more than his share of mistakes, and he knew he'd have to pay for them when the time came. So, no, he wouldn't call himself good, but he was a righteous man. He had a higher calling that went far beyond selfish pursuits. His was the long, hard path that so many warriors of God had trampled before him, and he heard the encouraging echoes of their voices every long, hard step of the way. Not that he was on his own, and thank Mary and all the Saints for it. From the day he'd been brought, squalling, into the world (first, thank you very much), he'd had a companion to march the treacherous trail side by side with him. Someone who got him in a million ways both large and small, who would fight to the death for him, who was his match in every way that counted. Murphy wasn't a man given easily to the trappings of softer emotion, but he'd sell everything he owned a million times over for Connor, would sacrifice anything in his power to give just to make sure Connor was safe. And he knew that Connor would do the same for him. To be sure, it was a weakness that could be exploited by their enemies, but it was also the source of Murphy's greatest strength. Come what may, no matter the trial or the struggle, no matter what obstacles the Lord threw their way to test their faith and devotion to the cause, He'd also seen fit to see to it that Murphy wasn't alone. The path before him might be long and filled with pitfalls and drenched in blood, but as long as he had Connor alongside him, he knew he was on the side of the angels.
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