They met in the shadow of the night, passionately embracing under the flickering electric lights of the Tower District. She was a woman of nobility, married by circumstance to an odious, corpulent fellow who thought of her much the same way he thought of his left shoe. He was, naturally, a penniless street-caller, counting ha'copper scraps won from message deliveries and rumors he overheard in the darkest of allies. They asked Jehu for the night to cloak them, and so Jehu did, for a time.
But the corpulent noble grew suspicious of his wife's nightly nights on the town. How many balls can she attend, how many trips to the market can she take, how often must she meet with her tailor about that new dress, how long goes she intend to evade him and his needs? He grow wrathful, and hired a man known as Slim Jack, with fingers like knives and a smile that curdled milk, to follow her through the night. Slim Jack writhed across the cobbles like a snake, tailing her unerringly through Jehu's streets. When the spy finally stumbled upon her meeting place, he was shocked to find his quarry in the arms of a penniless rumormonger. Like an eel, he slithered back to his master, reporting of the depravity he saw.
The noble stroked his many chins and happened upon a devious plan. On his own, he was simply a filthy rich bastard, but the Church was one of the largest organizations in the City. If he could appeal to them, he could get a massive rally against the two. He wanted them to suffer, so he called upon a friend of a friend of a friend to summon the Cardinal of Jehu. He told the cardinal of his wife's sin with the pauper, and the cardinal, shocked to hear of such vile and flagrant adultery, began to froth the City itself into a mob. Across the Districts, torches were lit and weapons were grabbed, whispers of purging sin echoing across the brick tenements.
They ran as they met, in each other's arms. No matter how many corners they dove into, no matter how many shops they ducked behind, no matter how hard they tried to shake their pursuers, there were more every turn, always led by the cardinal, spouting forth war-chants in Jehu's name. They wound their way through the streets, across bridges, under overpasses, and through winding and ever-narrower passages undisturbed in years by any save rats. It was never enough.
They collapsed, breathless and exhausted, onto the steps of the Basilica of Jehu. The cardinal and the mob slowly surrounded them, the heat from their torches rippling the air. The scent of sweat and war mixed in the air. As the cardinal stepped forth to issue their execution statement, the pair made one last prayer to Jehu, asking to be reunited on the other side, and kissed as the Basilica went up in flames.
The marble of the Basilica is scorched grey now, an eternal monument to their suffering. Their names are lost, whispered in the dark as the Lover Saints- those who pursue amorous intent in the dark of night pray to them so their secrets never see the light. Some say the streets of the City warped themselves into the shape of a man and woman, hands entwined at steps of the Basilica...
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