Chip unrolled the sheet.
“What does it say?” Katryn asked, sounding livelier than she had so far that day.
“That Grosskopf is a fool.” Chip smiled. “Well, maybe not in so many words. She paid a third of the money on order and another third on dispatch. The final installment was to be made when the jewelry arrived. The money was to be refunded only if Drummond was unable to ship before the end of the year, with some nicely artistic penalty clauses built in.”
“Grosskopf didn’t get a refund if the jewelry was stolen before it got to her?”
“Oh, no. In fact, that possibility is specifically mentioned in the contract. There’s a financial-jeopardy clause, taking account of the unorthodox method of transport.” Chip rolled up the paper. “And I think this concludes our investigation for today. I need to get back to our room and write out a report to hand on to Kalispera. The Militia can get their bits together and apply for a search warrant tomorrow.”
“Is there anything for me to do?”
“No. You can take some time off. Look around the town.”
“I think I might visit the baths.”
“Good idea.” Especially if I don’t go with you, Chip added in her head.
The two left the guildhall and walked on until their routes separated. “Have a nice time. I’ll see you at dinner,” Chip called out. Katryn gave her a halfhearted smile and turned away.
*
When she entered the room Chip saw that two letters had been slipped under the door. They lay, corners touching, on the scrubbed floorboards. Chip scooped them up, sat on her bed and broke the seal on the larger with her thumb. It was a dispatch from Captain LeCoup, written two days after she and Katryn had left Redridge.
Sergeant Coppelli:
Some information that may be of use to you.
Apparently, the thieves did not steal the wagons and horses, which were all left standing on the road with the bodies. It’s something that the Militiawomen had not thought worth mentioning during their initial briefing. They considered it proof that the thieves were local women who did not need transport to remove their loot to a safe place—an interesting assumption, given that the wagons were ambushed in the middle of a forest.
Today, two of the Militiawomen took Sergeant O’Neil’s patrol and me to see the site of the ambush. I did not expect to find much; however, O’Neil made an interesting discovery. Fifty meters from the road was a burned circle. It looked the right age for the robbery. Turf had been cut and replaced, and an attempt was made to hide the patch under dead leaves, but there was no excuse for the Militia’s missing it.
Taken together, it seems obvious to me that the thieves knew the jewelry was inside the bales and were not interested in anything else. After killing the three women, the thieves took the jewelry from its hiding place and then destroyed the wool to cause confusion. That they felt they had enough time for this is pretty good evidence Wright and Paulino weren’t racing back to Redridge to get help. I would say there must have been at least one more woman involved, to take away the small sack of jewelry, but possibly no others.
I sincerely hope that you are making more progress than we are.
Captain LeCoup
Chip smiled with satisfaction. More circumstantial evidence, but it tied in very neatly with the case she was building. Wright and Paulino waited until they were on a deserted stretch of road, murdered the other three women in the crew, removed the bales of wool and burned them to make it look like a robbery, and then ran back to Redridge with stories of an ambush. Chip shook her head at the idiocy of the Militia. Whoever heard of thieves leaving perfectly good horses behind? The animals provided their own transport and were extremely easy to sell.
Chip turned to the other letter. The address was written in Kim’s handwriting. Chip looked at the outside apprehensively. Experience warned her that it would contain more teasing on the subject of Katryn, and she did not feel up to dealing with joking innuendoes. However, it would be better to read the letter now than when Katryn was present. Chip broke the seal and flipped the paper open.
Chip:
Just a quick warning. Your new girl has not been honest with you. I was talking to Ritche, and I mentioned the story about her being a late joiner. Ritche disputes it. She hasn’t seen Katryn’s full records, but she does know she’s only got four more years of her enlistment period to go. When you add everything up, it leaves seven years to account for.
Sorry to be the one to pass on bad news. Look after yourself. If you get emotionally attached to her, you’re going to be hurt.
Kim
Chip put down the piece of paper. The warning had come too late.
*
Neither Chip nor Katryn suggested going out to find dinner, so they ended up eating in the mess. The food was not bad by military standards, but Chip could muster little enthusiasm. Katryn also spent more time looking at her meal than eating it. Chip talked about the contents of LeCoup’s letter, but it was Kim’s she was thinking of. It confirmed that she had not misheard, or misunderstood, Kalispera’s words.
Afterward, they wandered back to their room. Katryn opened the window and stood staring out over the rooftops. “Are you going to meet with your trader again tonight?” She spoke without looking back.
“No. She left Landfall this morning, heading downriver.” Chip lay slumped on her bunk with her arm over her eyes.
Katryn turned around and leaned on the windowsill. “I…er…I feel I’ve done something to annoy you. I thought at first, this morning, you were preoccupied with the trader, but you don’t seem to be…happy with me.” She bit her lip. “What have I done?”
Chip took a deep breath; then she sat up and swung her legs around. If Katryn wanted to force the issue, it was okay by her. “You’ve told me lies.” She spoke bluntly.
“I…no, never.” Katryn sounded genuinely bewildered.
“Okay. I asked you once informally. This time, it’s an order, and I want the truth.” Chip snapped out the words with a vehemence LeCoup would have been proud of.
Katryn sprung upright, her eyes fixed on the wall. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What did you do to get court-martialed?”
“I swear I haven’t been court-martialed, ma’am.”
“Kalispera called you Sergeant, yet you told me you hadn’t been demoted. You said you were a private because you hadn’t been in the Rangers long enough to reach Leading Ranger. You enlisted ten years ago.”
Katryn’s cheeks were flushed. “I wasn’t demoted, ma’am. I gave up my rank voluntarily.”
“What?” Chip shouted in outraged anger.
“I told you the truth. I have only been in the Rangers for a year, but before that, I served nine years in the Militia. I was a sergeant in Woodside. The rank was forfeit when I joined the Rangers, which I knew when I applied.”
Chip stared at Katryn, who was shaking visibly. “Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Permission to talk informally, ma’am.”
“Yes,” Chip snapped.
“Because I know that not applying for the Rangers the day after you become eligible is proof that you’re a fool and a coward, only fit for rounding up stray dogs.”
“That’s…” Chip’s voice died. Maybe you did not have to apply bang on the day after, but some Rangers would see nine years in the Militia in those terms.
Chip bowed her head and interlaced her fingers behind her neck. It all sounded too glib. She did not know what to think, and for once, her instincts could not help her. She desperately wanted to believe Katryn and, for that very reason, distrusted her own judgment. Chip tried to work her way forward. “So why was Kalispera displeased to see you? It wasn’t exactly a happy reunion when you met.”
“Captain Kalispera didn’t want me to leave the Militia. I can’t prove it was her, but someone pulled strings to get me a promise of promotion to lieutenant if I withdrew my application to the Rangers.” Katryn’s lips compressed in a tight line. “She ma
de a personal appeal to me to stay, but I ignored her. Now she feels angry, and I feel like a fool, because she was right. I shouldn’t have left.”
“And that’s your story?”
“It’s the truth, ma’am. You don’t believe my word, but you could go and find Kalispera and ask her about it.”
Chip got to her feet and stood directly in front of Katryn. She stared into her eyes; they were filling with tears, but they held no faltering, no deceit and no sign of bluffing. Chip did not know what to do or what to believe. The situation was hard enough, made impossible by her intense desire to kiss Katryn. Chip felt her arms starting to move of their own accord.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Chip could not find the words she wanted. She stepped over to the window. Katryn remained at attention. “Oh, dismissed…stand down…whatever.”
Katryn relaxed but stayed where she was. “I should have told you that I’d spent so long in the Militia, but I wanted a chance to prove myself…before I got prejudged.”
Chip shrugged. She was partly convinced that there was something more that Katryn was not telling her, but she lacked the certainty to probe. Going in search of the Militia captain was not a good idea. Trust was vital to a patrol. How could she ever ask Katryn to trust her if she was not prepared to trust Katryn’s word? It would be totally unjust if Katryn was telling the truth, and even if she were still lying, Chip did not want to deal with it until they were back in Fort Krowe. Or better still, let Captain LeCoup deal with it.
“Do you want me to come with you and find Kalispera?” Katryn asked.
“No. I want you to come with me to the inn and let me buy you a drink.”
Katryn flinched but then nodded.
Outside the building, the air was fresher, and Chip felt calmer but no less unhappy. Kiss and make up. The words echoed in her head, along with the mental picture of giving Katryn a big hug and saying, “Sorry.” The idea was not a safe one to play with. Chip glanced sideways. Katryn looked understandably subdued.
Chip cleared her throat. “While the Militia sort out the warrant tomorrow morning, we can take it easy. I can show you the sights.”
“You don’t think we should be there with the Militia at the magistrate’s?”
Chip pulled a wry grimace. “Probably best if my face doesn’t get seen. My sister, Honesty Coppelli, is the city’s chief magistrate, and we never got along, even before I left home.”
Chapter Six—The First Time
The great temple of Celaeno was awe-inspiring, or so Chip had been told. She could not remember it ever inspiring awe in her, only boredom and despair. However, in showing Katryn around the cavernous central hall, she felt that she was seeing a different aspect of the place. It was amazing what knowing you were free to walk out did for your perceptions.
The shrines to the Celaeno’s servants, the Elder-Ones, filled every centimeter of wall space. Still more were clustered around the supporting pillars. The Blessed Himoti, greatest of the Elder-Ones, had her monument in the very middle of the hall. Her eternal flame danced in its crucible; its light flickered over the faces of worshippers.
Katryn appeared to be genuinely moved by the temple. Without going into religious rapture, she kneeled, bowed her head before Himoti’s flame and prayed silently. She also paused to offer a short prayer to her namesake, Katryn Novak, the Elder-One who was patron of bakers. Chip waited for her to finish and then carried on around the perimeter of the hall.
Next, they stopped at the alcove housing the military shrine. In the middle stood the statue of Natasha Krowe, patron of Rangers, with her iron-gray hair and green skin. She was flanked on either side by Su Li Hoy of the Guards and David Croft of the Militia. Again, the colors reflected their followers’ uniform. Su Li Hoy had yellow skin and bright red hair; David Croft’s skin and hair were both jet black, making her the most monochromatic of the Elder-Ones. Chip could not restrain the grin that spread across her face; she knew how much it rankled the Guards that the Rangers’ patron took the central position, but the Rangers were the oldest branch of the military.
The two women went on and paused again outside the entrance to the sanctum. Six Guards stood on sentry duty by the hanging drapes that hid the secret inner part of the temple from view. The women stood stiffly at attention in their dazzling red and gold uniforms, long swords drawn and held upright. Candlelight glinted off their helmets and braid.
“Don’t they look pretty?” Chip spoke just loud enough for the Guards to hear. She was rewarded by seeing a flush darken the face of the youngest. The jeering was part of the ritual contest played between Rangers and Guards. Chip did not push things any further. It was unfair to taunt when the Guards could not retaliate and, at odds of six against two, unwise to do it when they could.
“Did you used to go in there?” Katryn whispered, pointing to the curtains.
“No. That’s the inner sanctum. Only full Sisters and Imprinters are allowed in. As an initiate, I got no further than the outer sanctum.”
A faint stirring disturbed the hall behind them. Chip glanced over her shoulder and drew Katryn out of the way. A small group was marching toward the entrance to the sanctum, an escort of six more Guards. Chip knew that they would take particular pleasure in shoving Rangers aside if they got the chance. In the center was another woman, clad in simple blue: an Imprinter.
For the first time, something like awe did sweep over Chip. Imprinting was the one great mystery that the Sisters could not reduce to tedium. Imprinters were the ones chosen by the Goddess to receive Himoti’s gift: the gift of calling new human souls into existence. They were the ones so strongly blessed with the healer sense they could not merely cure sickness and injury or induce cloning in farm animals, but also imprint genetic patterns on an embryo. It was the gift of Imprinters to copy DNA sequences from a gene mother to the cloned cell inside her partner’s womb, creating a new life that was not a soulless clone but a true human, a daughter of the Goddess.
Chip felt her mouth go dry as the woman in blue was ushered by and disappeared through the hanging drapes of the sanctum.
“Did you ever meet an Imprinter?” Katryn asked.
“Who, me? You’re joking. Despite my parents’ money, I was the lowest of the low—especially after I entertained my schoolmates by demonstrating my scoring ability at basketball, using the Chief Consultant’s knickers as a goal.”
“You did what?”
“It was one of my failed attempts to get expelled.”
“How…?”
“She wasn’t wearing them at the time. I raided the laundry.”
“But…”
Chip laughed and pointed to the exit. “Come on. We’d better go if we want to be on time for the briefing.”
They passed under the high arched doorway of the temple and into the day outside. A soft drizzle was falling, but the weather showed signs of brightening. The gardens surrounding the temple held the first misty suggestion of sunshine.
“You don’t seem very devout,” Katryn began hesitantly after a few steps.
“The Chief Consultant’s underwear isn’t mentioned anywhere in The Book of the Elder-Ones, so it can’t be that sacred,” Chip joked. Then she became more serious. “But you’re right. I tend to be a bit of a skeptic.”
“But you were educated by the Sisters.”
“That’s why.” The pair reached the exit from the temple grounds and strolled into the street beyond. “Most people in the school wanted to be there. I didn’t, so I wasn’t quite so ready to believe everything I was told, without question. And then, when I became an initiate, I got to read some of the books that aren’t revealed to the general public. Which is when I realized that 90 percent of what’s in the temple is a load of rubbish.”
“Like what?”
“The statues of the Elder-Ones, for example. All the green skin and blue hair. The Elder-Ones weren’t that different from us. I’ve seen old pictures of them.”
“But it says in The Book of the El
der-Ones: ‘Their skins were diverse in tone, and their hair was yellow and red and black, and all the shades between. And some were tall, and hair grew on their faces.’”
“But not that diverse. All the Elder-Ones had conventional brown skin. It was just that the shades varied far more than you see today. Some were so light-colored that they were even referred to as white, though they were really a pale beige, and others were very much darker. We’d all fit somewhere in the middle of the range.”
“And the hair?”
“Some did have yellow hair, but it was a bit rare. The Elder-Ones usually had dark brown hair, just like us. Most of them could walk down the street today and not attract a second glance from anyone.”
“Except for those with hair on their faces?”
Chip laughed. “They might. However, those who had it often shaved it off.”
“I’d always wondered if it got in the way when they were eating.” Katryn matched Chip’s smile. They walked a few more yards in silence before she continued, “If it’s in the books, why don’t the Sisters sort the statues out?”
“Because Sisters who rock the boat don’t get promoted, and life inside the temple sanctum is the most ruthless, cutthroat, backstabbing battlefield I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness.”
“The Sisters are supposed to be the guardians of truth.”
Rangers at Roadsend Page 7