“I know, but I’d rather not take one if I don’t have to. I’ll try the walk first.”
“As you wish.” The sister let her go.
Lamplight and voices were coming from the atrium, and two priestesses were deep in conversation by the garden gate, but no one tried to hail or intercept her. Matt strolled past the kitchen and storerooms, bidding good night to one sister who hurried by with no more than a distracted smile. As she hoped, everyone had gone from the stable yard by the outer wall. The delivery gate was shut and barred after dark, and since the theft, two guards were stationed outside at all times. This did not matter, since Matt did not intend to use the gate.
Matt stopped and listened, straining her ears. Nobody was moving. She continued in her slow, deliberate pace to the stable door, and then slipped inside. Slivers of moonlight squeezed between the planks. Matt waited for her eyes to adjust, still listening. That evening, only the palfrey belonging to Rita from Orbeck was occupying a stall. The horse was half-heartedly chewing on hay and ignored Matt completely. It was nearly as boring as its owner.
The awkward, snooty bugger surcoat made climbing the ladder far more difficult than it needed to be. Why did anyone think it was smart to pick such stupid clothes? Matt swore under her breath all the way to the top. At the far end of the hay loft a loading door overlooked the street below. The three-foot-square door was bolted shut but not locked. Matt drew back the bar and edged the door open a few inches.
A bend in the wall hid the guards from view, although she could hear their voices, discussing the likelihood one of their colleagues would manage to knock boots with the new barmaid at the Nine Bells. This was, apparently, a major ambition of his, though the speakers did not fancy his chances. Nothing else was visible apart from the row of houses opposite. Matt slipped the bag from her shoulders and tied a length of cord to the handle. Quickly, she lowered it through the opening.
When the bag was halfway to the ground, a shadow detached itself from a gap between two houses. It reached the point directly under the loading door, just as the bag got within reach. Matt released the cord which fell, making only the softest whisper. Then shadow, bag, and Shewstone vanished into the night. The guards’ tone did not change as they agreed Spotty Sam stood his best chance with Madam Palm and her five daughters.
Matt bolted the door and clambered back to the ground. Job done. The Shewstone would be in Edmund’s hands within the hour and ready for the strangers to collect.
After wishing a heartfelt good night to Welcoming Sister Hosteller, Matt returned to her room and got ready to sleep. She would stay at the temple two more full days, just enough distance so nobody would connect her departure with that of the Shewstone.
Eawynn no longer had a working shrine to be custodian of. Presumably, she would be given a new role soon. This might not involve looking after a key, but could offer other possibilities. Matt grinned and rolled over in bed. Maybe, just maybe, before she left, she would manage one more kiss.
*
The key turned in the lock to the sound of metallic scraping. Eawynn sat on her bunk and stared at the door, swamped by incompatible waves of relief and dread. Please don’t let me get hiccups. Nothing good was about to happen, but she did not know how much longer she could stand the boredom. The cell had a bunk, a pisspot, a door, a tiny barred window, and four walls comprised of 1788 bricks. In the previous three days, she had counted them more times than she wanted to think about. Why could they not let her have a book? Indeed, why had they even bothered locking her up? It was not as if she had anywhere to run.
Vigilant Sister Chancellor entered the cell and blinked. “Have you opened your heart to Anberith?”
Eawynn knew she had been expected to pray throughout her detention. As entertainment it came level with counting bricks, but she had spent enough time to be able to answer honestly, “I have.”
“Then it’s time to face your judgement. Come with me.”
Dread got the upper hand. The brick walls taunted Eawynn as she left the cell. Maybe a little more boredom would not be so bad, after all.
Four more priestesses were waiting for Eawynn in the audience room, her judges—Insightful Sister Oracle, Enlightening Sister Astrologer, Attentive Sister Chamberlain, and Prudent Sister Treasurer. With the chancellor, they represented the five most senior positions in the temple.
Eawynn pressed her lips together to keep them steady. What chance did she stand? How bad was this going to be?
Most Reverend Insightful Sister Oracle had calmed down sufficiently to sit in her chair, but the glare she directed at Eawynn had not softened an iota.
“Dutiful Sister Custodian, you were given the honoured position of guarding the most precious artefact in the temple. I confess I had doubts about your abilities, but I had not expected to be proved so right. Your shortcomings surpassed anything I feared. The key was your responsibility, and yours alone. Can you deny your manifest failure to perform your duty to Anberith?”
Honoured position? Where did she start to respond? Yet there was no defence that would do her any good. The elders would interpret the facts as suited them. “No, Beloved Sister.”
“And you still deny giving the key to anyone?”
“Yes, Beloved Sister.”
“So you claim it was stolen from you. Where? Do you remember anything?”
Actually, after three days thinking it over, Eawynn had a pretty good idea of what had happened to both key and Shewstone. Although disclosing the truth would do her no good, she could not tell a direct lie.
“The sanctuary is the most likely place for the key to be stolen.”
“Yes, thank you for that, but I asked you what you remembered. We could all make a guess. It’s a sad fact that, despite our best efforts, thieves and pickpockets operate in the sanctuary, preying on the faithful. Which is why you should have been on your guard. But were clearly in a daze. You didn’t even notice the key was missing. It was left to Steadfast Sister Porter to spot the sacrarium door was ajar when she unlocked the Shrine to the Oracle the next morning.”
Vigilant Sister Chancellor was sitting at the seat on the left. She now joined in the questioning. “You can’t remember anyone touching you, or brushing against you?”
Only Hilda. She could have taken the key. Their kiss had been so all-consuming a row of purple pigs could have danced in and taken it, and Eawynn would not have noticed. But Hilda had neither the time nor the opportunity to steal the Shewstone. She had followed Eawynn into the sanctuary mere seconds later. Throughout the entire ceremony, Eawynn had been unable to tear her eyes from the woman who had just set her ablaze, standing a few short yards away. Immediately after the ceremony ended, the outer door of the Shrine to the Oracle had been locked for the night. The thief was not Hilda. Eawynn would stake her life on it. She had a far better candidate in mind, and confessing to the kiss would only dig a deeper hole for herself.
“I wasn’t aware of anyone touching me in the Sanctuary of Anberith.”
Insightful Sister Oracle resumed her attack. “You want us to believe the pickpocket was so skilful he was able to loosen the chain from your belt without you noticing, even though you were surrounded by your sisters celebrating Encomium of the Unfailing Low Tide?”
“Maybe I dropped the key.”
“So a thief found a key lying on the ground and instinctively knew which door it opened?”
Any answer Eawynn could give would be ludicrously weak.
“Then what? He turned invisible and walked past the guards on the atrium gate?”
“Of course not.”
“So while we were at our devotions, he left the sanctuary, went to a spot on the outer wall where he could put a ladder up unseen, then made his way to the sacrarium. Once there, the thief hacked the door off the repository and absconded with the Shewstone.”
The timing was clearly impossible. The Encomium of the Unfailing Low Tide was one of the shorter ceremonies. Just to get in and out, the thief would have need
ed to run the entire way, and that did not take into account removing the repository door. Eawynn had no details of how it was done, but even with the right tools, it could not have been a quick job.
“Well, come on, say something.” Enlightening Sister Astrologer joined in.
“The thief might have returned at night. After we were asleep.”
“You think so?” Enlightening Sister Astrologer was enjoying this. Her attempt to hide her smile was not working. “Supposing I was to say I was up all night, in the atrium, watching the conjunction of the planets?”
I’d believe you. Eawynn had guessed as much. It was the only explanation that made sense.
Sitting in her cell, Eawynn had gone over the events countless times. She remembered leaving the sacrarium, shutting the door, and putting the key in the lock. Then she had seen Hilda, and all rational thought had fled her head. No one had stolen the key from her belt, because she had not attached it there. Like an idiot, she had left it in the door. She knew it.
Enlightening Sister Astrologer admitted being up all night, stargazing. The astrologer was one of the sisters with a key to the Shrine to the Oracle, so she could consult the star charts whenever she needed, although she did not have one for the sacrarium. She must have gone into the shrine that night to look at a chart, seen Eawynn’s key in the door, and taken her chance to get rid of the Shewstone. Eawynn was sure any harm coming to herself was a pure bonus from the astrologer’s point of view. Enlightening Sister Astrologer would have had all the time she wanted to go for tools and remove the repository door. The Shewstone had most likely been tossed from the cliffs and was now smashed to pieces, under the waves.
And there was not a shred of proof. If Eawynn told the elders what she suspected, some might believe her, but none would admit it. Without evidence, no case could be made against Enlightening Sister Astrologer. The change in temple finances caused by the loss of the Shewstone would shift the power balance. On the next winter solstice, when the convention of the temple was held, Most Reverend Enlightening Sister Astrologer would become high priestess, and plain Insightful Sister Oracle would be performing her readings with a deck of fortune cards.
Who was going to back the unsupported word of a traitor’s bastard against the future leader of the temple? Judging by Insightful Sister Oracle’s expression, she did not need the Shewstone to make the same prediction about changes to temple hierarchy, and there was no question who she blamed. Eawynn let her head sag. Owning up to kissing Hilda was not going to help.
“Do you think we’re fools?” Enlightening Sister Astrologer’s voice was dripping with contempt.
“No, Beloved Sister.”
“Then answer me this, how did this thief know you had the key to the sacrarium? Our sisterhood numbers fifty-nine priestesses. Did the thief just get lucky? How did he know whose pocket to pick?”
“I don’t know.”
“Just like you don’t know how he got to the sacrarium in the amount of time available.”
“No…I mean, yes.”
“Or how to find his way. Did he have a map?”
“How would I know?”
Insightful Sister Oracle cut in. “Because you gave one to him.”
“No. I’ve already said—”
“That you wouldn’t incriminate yourself? It’s a blatant double bluff. You thought we wouldn’t see through your trickery.”
“No.”
“Yes. Because there’s only one way the Shewstone could have been stolen. You were due to finish your duties in the sacrarium a full half hour before the start of the Encomium. Plenty of time to hand the key over and for the thief to get in place, ready to climb the wall as soon as the ceremony started.”
“No.”
“You could have removed the door from the repository beforehand, to make his job quicker, or at least left the tools there, ready for him.”
“Why would I do that?” Eawynn could hear the panic in her own voice.
Insightful Sister Oracle started to speak, but Enlightening Sister Astrologer shouted over her. “Because of your traitor father. You wanted revenge on the temple for supporting the true queen, my cousin.”
Insightful Sister Oracle jumped to her feet, not yet ready to relinquish her position. “Sisters, please. Remember we stand in the sight of our lady Anberith.” Once the room was silent, she stared at Eawynn. “Dutiful Sister Custodian, this is your last chance. Will you name your accomplice? Show your contrition by telling us the truth, and we may be lenient with you.”
“I had no part in the theft. I swear by Anberith”
Insightful Sister Oracle looked as if she was about to be sick. “Do not name the goddess in deceit. Tell us the truth or be silent. Have you nothing else to say?”
Did she? Briefly, Eawynn considered admitting to both her infatuation with Hilda, and leaving the key in the sacrarium door. Changing her story late in the day was not going to sound good. Nobody would admit to believing her, and it would not dent Enlightening Sister Astrologer’s ambitions. The only result would be incurring a worse punishment for herself.
“No, Beloved Sister.”
“Your sister no more.”
“But—” Eawynn was stunned.
“You conspired in the theft of our most precious artefact. You have desecrated this temple. You have betrayed those who called you sister.”
Ice flowed through Eawynn’s veins. “No. No, I haven’t.”
Insightful Sister Oracle ignored her. “Our judgement is that there is no place for you in the Temple of Anberith. Your vows are set aside. Five days hence, after the Affirmation of the New Moon, and before the Oblation of the Avowed Supplicants, you will be cast from the sisterhood. You will be beaten from the temple, never to set foot on its holy ground again. Between now and then, you will spend your time in prayer, to beg the goddess to forgive the wrong you have done to her.”
Eawynn shook her head, battling with disbelief. They could not throw her out, could they? What would happen to her? Where would she go?
The expressions around the room displayed varying degrees of anger, sternness, and pity, except for Enlightening Sister Astrologer. Her face held nothing but a contented smile.
*
“The cart is rather late, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Matt worked on acting politely impatient, rather than worried.
“Would you like me to see if I can arrange another one for you?”
“Yes, please. If you could.”
She gave Welcoming Sister Hosteller a tight smile. The cart from Edmund was an hour overdue. Matt did not know what was going on, but if she did not leave soon she would have to hang around for another day.
Raff had come to see Matt the morning after she handed over the Shewstone. He confirmed it had got to Edmund safely, and the strangers would be calling the following afternoon to collect it. The only thing left to settle was a date for the cart to take her home. Matt had needed to weigh her itch to see the Shewstone again against her itch to see Eawynn. Eawynn had won. Women would always beat rocks.
However, in the end, neither itch was scratched. Matt allowed an extra day, but this was still not enough. Neither sight nor word of Eawynn was forthcoming. Matt had to admit to increasing concern about her, although this was currently eclipsed by concern over the non-appearing cart. Edmund would not have forgotten her unless something critical was afoot. Fortunately, the cart procured by Welcoming Sister Hosteller arrived promptly. Whatever was up with the Flyming gang, Matt wanted to be there to help.
After a last round of thanks and good-byes, Matt plus her bags were loaded and on the way. Matt’s preferred choice would have been going straight home without messing about, but the disadvantage to a real hired cart was that she had to maintain the fiction of returning to her husband for a while longer.
The quickest and easiest route to Gimount was by water. The nearest port to the town was five hours sailing down the coast, and a dozen or more boats made the journey every day. This was the p
art that forced her to leave early in the morning, in time to board a suitable ship. A decorous businesswoman would have no trouble buying passage, and would then have only a short cart ride home. Playing the role of Hilda meant Matt ended up heading toward the harbour, the opposite direction to the one she wanted. The streets of Fortaine rolled by painfully slowly, on the way downhill to the docks.
The harbour was familiar territory. Once there, Matt paid off the driver and looked around. The Flyming dock handler was a woman known as Jenny the Trip, but neither Jenny nor her sidekick Alf were in sight. Matt’s disquiet grew, especially when she saw a couple of Gilbert’s boys swaggering around the quay like they owned it.
Had a gang war kicked off while she was in the temple? Raff had said nothing, but these things could flare up quickly and without warning. Quite possibly, Edmund had more serious issues than sending a cart to collect her from the temple. Matt needed to get home quickly, before she was spotted, alone and a sitting target. The disguise of a wig would not stand up if trouble was actively looking for her.
A brass penny paid a warehouse keeper to look after her bags. Matt walked back up the hill, at a quick pace but not fast enough to turn heads. Ideally, a change of clothes would have been her first call, but she did not want to take the time. She left High Street at the junction with Collier’s Row. The houses became taller as the shops were left behind, and the streets got quieter. Another turn and the front of the Flyming house came into sight, fifty yards away.
Three rowdy boys were posted outside, which was all the confirmation Matt needed that trouble was afoot. Normally, a single guard sufficed. Then, between one footfall and the next, every idea Matt had about trouble erupted into a nightmare, taking the air from her lungs and sending a fist of ice pounding through her gut.
The guards were not Benny, or Raff, or anyone she recognised. Instead the one facing her had a green bandanna around his neck, the token worn by Gilbert’s gang when a fight was in the offing, so when things got hectic they did not end up knifing one of their own by mistake. Three steps more and Matt recognised the faces, all of them Gilbert’s boys.
The Shewstone Page 11