Josiah wanted to deny it, but he was so tired. Vigorre was probably right. He leaned against Sar. Will you let me keep it a secret? To protect Vigorre’s father and Kevessa’s uncle?
It does not involve misuse of the Mother’s power nor abuse of your position as wizard. Therefore it is a matter for your free will. I am not required to stop or censure you. For all the neutrality of his words, Sar’s mental tone left Josiah no doubt that he strongly disapproved. But their bond wasn’t at risk, which was what mattered.
“All right,” he told Vigorre. “I won’t tell Elkan, or anyone else.”
“Thank you.” Vigorre grasped Josiah’s hand and met his gaze with shadowed eyes. He turned, surveyed the dead bodies one more time, then headed back toward the palace.
Josiah followed him, Sar at his heels. “I didn’t know you could use a sword.”
Vigorre shrugged. “All the sons of the aristocracy are trained in fencing. I learned what I was taught, but I wasn’t enthusiastic. I never progressed beyond competent.”
“You were competent enough back there!” Josiah grinned at him, but Vigorre’s face was set. A thought struck him. “Was this your first real fight? I mean, have you ever, you know, killed anyone? Before?”
“No.” Vigorre kept his eyes focused forward.
Josiah shivered. “Me neither.” He wanted to talk about it, to find out if Vigorre was experiencing any of the same confused and conflicting reactions he was, to ease his distress by sharing it with someone who would understand. But the closed look on the young Keeper’s face made it clear Vigorre wasn’t interested.
He looked away. “Um, thank you. For saving my life, I mean.”
“You’re welcome,” Vigorre said gravely.
There seemed nothing else to say.
Getting back to his room was easy. The guards at the main gate returned their hails with perfunctory nods and let them in. The corridors were still quiet. Elkan’s door was shut; Josiah didn’t know whether that meant he was still with the Matriarch or that he’d gone to bed.
When they reached his door Vigorre spoke quietly. “I’ll head down to the dungeon and see if I can talk them into letting me in.” He hesitated. “In a few days, once Father and the others are safe, you could tell Master Elkan.”
Josiah gave him a wan smile. “I’d better not. I’d get in huge trouble for lying. And you’re right; we already know the Purifiers are out to get us. This doesn’t change anything.”
“All right then. The attack never happened.” Vigorre nodded.
“What attack?” Josiah grinned wryly.
Vigorre returned it and raised a hand in farewell.
Josiah went mechanically about the routines of getting ready for bed, brushing Sar, putting out fresh water and hay, washing up. After he climbed into bed he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He wanted desperately to talk over what had happened with Elkan. He kept remembering the moment when power had flowed from him to rip a man’s brain apart and send him to the Mother long before his time.
Elkan knew what it was like. Josiah thought back to his master’s dark mood following the execution of the child molester in Jianolan. He hadn’t ever realized it before, but now it struck him. Elkan hadn’t just stood by passively as Sar slowed Nedon’s heart to a standstill. Through the Mother’s power he’d felt and seen and heard and smelled and tasted the man’s death. And he’d kept his hand pressed to Sar’s back the whole time.
He remembered his master’s quiet words. I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve never had to use—to allow the Mother’s power to be used through you—to kill. I hope you never do.
But now he had, and he did understand, at least a little better, why Elkan had been so reluctant to let the assassin Tharan be executed. That death, like the ones tonight, might be acceptable under the Mother’s justice, but that didn’t make them any less terrible.
Life is precious. It’s the Mother’s gift, and once it’s gone, we can’t get it back. Death is always there, always waiting, and it’s forever, but life is only ours for a little while…
He couldn’t go to Sar for comfort, because Sar was untroubled by his actions. Without free will of his own, he could be serenely confident that anything permitted by the Law, anything within the Mother’s will, was right. But Josiah was troubled by the very human ability to see that it was far more complicated than that. Just because we can do something with her power, doesn’t mean we should.
But his promise to Vigorre to keep the attack secret meant he couldn’t seek more of his master’s wise words to help him reconcile his wildly conflicting emotions. Even if what he said couldn’t help, at least his warm presence would have kept Josiah from feeling so alone.
It was a long time before he fell asleep.
Twenty-Seven
Nirel sniffled. She glanced warily past Vigorre to where Elkan and Tobi stood, but their attention was fixed on the Matriarch as she emerged onto a balcony to address the gathered crowd. Half of Ramunna was gathered in the broad paved space outside the palace, looking eagerly upward.
Nirel turned away, surreptitiously pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, and blew her nose as quietly as she could. Of all the times to catch a cold! She couldn’t let the wizards find out. Any excuse she made to decline healing would seem odd to them.
The Matriarch beckoned imperiously. Guards escorted Vigorre’s father, shackled at wrists and ankles, face and embroidered robes filthy from his time in the dungeon, to stand before her. She glared at him, but there was a smugness to her manner that told Nirel she was pleased with this outcome. “Keeper Emirre, tell the people of Ramunna what the Mother has revealed to you.”
Emirre inclined his head deeply and turned to address the crowd. He modulated his trained voice to a tone of humble supplication, but it still carried to every ear. “During my imprisonment I spent many hours in deep prayer and meditation, seeking the Mother’s will. And she answered me. She showed me I was wrong. The wizards are her true servants. Any evidence I saw to the contrary was a deception. The document attributed to the Holy Yashonna is a forgery. I renounce my assertion that the wizards’ familiars are demons and withdraw any demand that her majesty reject their services or banish them from Ramunna.” He turned to the Matriarch and knelt, bowing his head. “Forgive me, your majesty, for daring to defy you. I swear my renewed allegiance to you.”
She inclined her head magnanimously. “The wizards have the full support of the Temple?”
“They do, your majesty.”
“And if I allow you to retain your position as First Keeper, you will turn all its power and resources to protecting them and advancing their mission?”
“I will, your majesty.”
“And you will eject from the Temple hierarchy any Keeper who refuses to renounce the false doctrine known as ‘Purifier’?”
A shocked gasp went through the crowd. Emirre bowed his head deeper. “I will, your majesty.”
She laid her hands on his head, then stepped back with a pleased smile. “Rise, Keeper Emirre. I pardon you for all offenses against the throne of Ramunna. Return to your Temple and cleanse it of those who cling to heresy.” She gestured, and guards came forward to remove his shackles.
He rubbed his wrists, bowed to her, and withdrew into the palace. The crowd murmured in reaction.
Josiah turned to Elkan. “That’s even better than we hoped. Do you think the Mother really did talk to him?”
Elkan lifted one shoulder, continuing to study the Matriarch. “Perhaps, but I doubt it. More likely Keeper Emirre calculated which side had the advantage and threw his lot in with those he considered most likely to emerge victorious.”
Nirel didn’t let her satisfaction show on her face. Elkan had drawn the conclusion he was supposed to. He hadn’t noticed how Emirre had carefully reiterated all the Purifiers points as he denied them. The people of Ramunna weren’t as cynical as their leaders; they wouldn’t change their allegiance so easily. Emirre would be free to pursue their secret agend
a, and at the right time the people would be ready to support them.
After a few minutes, the curtain behind the Matriarch stirred again, and another of the prisoners was led forth, a professor from the University. He also retracted his accusation of the wizards, swore loyalty to the Matriarch, and was released. One by one all the rest who’d been arrested did the same. Kevessa gave a little sob of relief when her uncle’s shackles came off.
Nirel studied her while her attention was distracted. She was clutching Nina as if the conversation two nights ago had never taken place, but she had an undercurrent of anxiety Nirel thought was due to more than worry for her uncle. Nirel grimaced. She was still angry at Vigorre for spilling their secret. If they’d persuaded Kevessa they were telling the truth and she confronted the other wizards, it could ruin everything.
At last Yoran Lirolla was led out. Nirel thought he did a good job projecting just the right combination of humiliation and unquenched defiance.
The Matriarch regarded him with open satisfaction. “Yoran Lirolla, what have you to say for yourself?”
He bowed his head. “I cannot deny my beliefs, your majesty. But I no longer seek to persuade you or anyone else of their truth. If you continue to imprison me because I maintain the familiars are demons and the wizards their slaves, I won’t resist.”
She turned to the crowd with a regal expression. “This is Ramunna, not Marvanna. We don’t punish a man for his private beliefs. But neither do we allow him to hold a position of authority, where his heresy can corrupt others.” She beckoned, and Keeper Emirre emerged again. He had washed and changed, and once again presented a perfect picture of the Lady’s authority. “Keeper Emirre, I order you to strip him of his status as Keeper.”
He inclined his head to her, then turned to Yoran. His voice was cold. “Yoran Lirolla, you have broken your vows as a Keeper. You have betrayed the Mother by teaching false doctrine in her name. She rejects your service and withdraws her blessing.” He turned to the crowd. “Let all know that this man is no longer a Keeper.”
The crowd buzzed again, louder this time. The ones who followed the Purifiers were furious and afraid. Those who followed the orthodox Temple were surprised and excited. The Matriarch let the reaction run for a moment before she raised her hand and the people quieted. “Kneel and swear your loyalty to me.”
Yoran did so, his voice grave and free of irony. The crowd hushed as he rose and the Matriarch gestured for his shackles to be removed. “As long as you and any who share your beliefs remain quiet and seek neither to convert others nor to stir up trouble against me or the wizards, you may walk free. But at the slightest hint you or any of your followers are violating this prohibition, you’ll all be back in the dungeon, this time with no hope of release. Do you understand?”
“I do, your majesty.”
“Then you may go.” She waved him away, and he went meekly through the curtain with the guards.
Nirel nodded to herself in satisfaction. The Matriarch thought she was undercutting Yoran’s power. She was probably right that if she’d continued to hold him prisoner, or especially if she’d executed him, he would have become a martyr and a rallying point for his followers. By releasing him but removing his official position she’d avoided that. But now he was free to continue his work against her, and he was skilled at secrecy and subtle plots. If all went well at the meeting that had been arranged between him and Elder Davon later today, this would be a major stroke of fortune for the Faithful.
The Matriarch addressed the crowd for a few more minutes, lauding the glory of Ramunna, her own generosity, and the wisdom of those who’d repented their treason and renewed their loyalty to their homeland. After a final blessing she dismissed them and withdrew.
Elkan nodded decisively. “Hopefully that’s the end of our problems with the Purifiers. Let’s get back to work, everyone.” He fondled Tobi’s ears. “We’re in the square again today, but the Matriarch is preparing a building for us, a warehouse near the edge of the commercial sector that was seized because the owner failed to pay his taxes. She expects it will be ready by the end of the week.” He squinted at the sky. “Pray the Mother continues to grant us fair weather until then.” He turned and made his way through the dispersing crowds toward the Beggars’ Quarter.
Josiah fell in beside him, eagerly discussing the research he’d be doing that morning with Gevan and Nalini. Vigorre joined them as they’d planned, asking questions whenever the conversation threatened to lag. Nirel took Kevessa’s arm and fell back a little, drawing her Ramunnan friend with her.
Kevessa scowled. “What?” Her eyes flicked down toward Nina in her arms before meeting Nirel’s again.
Nirel kept her voice pleasantly casual. “Did you get a chance to read that book Vigorre and I gave you? What did you think of the story?”
Kevessa looked puzzled for a moment, then understanding dawned in her eyes. She shook her head. “I’m afraid I didn’t care for it. In fact, I thought it was awful.”
Nirel shrugged. “Friends don’t always share the same tastes.”
Kevessa forced a laugh, her hands nervously stroking Nina. “I won’t let Master Elkan know that you and Vigorre have such bad taste. At least not until after we have a chance to discuss it, and I can point out how badly written it is.”
Nirel concealed her relief. “We’ll have to do that soon. Who knows, maybe you can persuade us to see your point.”
Kevessa shrugged. “I doubt it, but I’d love to try.”
Nirel wanted to continue the conversation, turning it to harmless matters to deflect any suspicion Nina might have, but her nose was threatening to run again, her eyes were dry and itchy, and a headache was starting to nag the base of her skull. She let Kevessa join the others but stayed back, keeping her head down. She was definitely coming down with something. She had to get away from the wizards before they noticed. Maybe Nalini would have something to suppress her symptoms. Luckily Nirel and Vigorre had already come up with an excuse to absent themselves this afternoon so they could attend the secret meeting between Yoran Lirolla and Elder Davon. She just had to make it through a few hours undetected.
She only managed because all three wizards stayed busy with a big influx of patients. Kevessa avoided looking at her, and Nirel stayed as far as possible from Elkan and Josiah. By the break for the midday meal her head was splitting and she was shivering. She wanted nothing more than to climb into a warm bed and pull the covers over her head. She plastered a fake smile on her face and clung to Vigorre as he made their farewells.
“We should be done clearing this new field by nightfall. I’m not sure why Nirel’s father decided it has to be done now, but he’s insistent. Of course I want to make a good impression on him.” Vigorre smiled conspiratorially at Elkan.
“I understand.” Elkan looked at the long lines of waiting people and sighed. “Josiah will be back soon, and Thanna’s volunteered to help out here as well as with the research. We’ll manage.”
Vigorre was turning to leave when Elkan said, “Oh, by the way, how are you feeling?”
Nirel froze. Vigorre turned back with convincing casualness. “Fine. Why?”
“Josiah and I started showing early symptoms of measles this morning. I suspect we caught it our first day here, or maybe the next, when we saw so many children with it. Both of you were here that day, so let one of us know if you develop a cold or fever. It’s an easy fix for the Mother’s power, but it can get pretty miserable if you wait.”
Vigorre shrugged. “I had it as a child. I remember how awful the itching was.”
“That’s what Kevessa said, too. You should be immune.” Elkan focused on Nirel. “But you grew up in Tevenar, so you’ve never been exposed to it before. The same with the rest of Ozor’s band. It can be particularly severe in adults. Keep an eye out and send anyone here who needs us.”
She nodded, hoping desperately her nose wouldn’t choose that moment to drip. “I’ll do that.”
He frowned briefl
y, sending her heart racing, but then smiled, nodded, and turned back to his meal.
Smash it! She’d seen enough cases of measles in the last week to know what to expect. Soon her skin would break out in an awful spotty rash, impossible to hide. She shouldn’t be in any real danger, but the symptoms would last at least a week. She didn’t dare come back until the last traces were gone. She’d never persuade the wizards not to use the Lady’s power on her without giving the real reason.
Vigorre hustled her to the waiting carriage. Inside she sank onto the seat and closed her eyes, breathing through her open mouth. He put his arm around her as the carriage lurched into motion. “What’s wrong?”
She sniffed hard and grinned wanly at him. “Guess.”
“Measles? Why didn’t you—oh.” He pulled away a little.
“I’ll be fine. I just can’t go back until it’s over.
He pressed close again, and she let him draw her against his side. It felt good to rest in the warm comforting circle of his arms. She laid her cheek on his chest, closing her aching eyes.
His hand settled on her forehead, and his voice rumbled in her ear. “Dear Mother, Nirel, you’re burning up.”
She shook her head against him. “I’m freezing.” A shudder ran through her in confirmation of her words.
Vigorre moved her off him with gentle hands and went to rummage under the seat on the other side. He came back with a soft woolen blanket he spread over her. “Better?”
“Much. Thank you.” She snuggled into it, glad when he took his place beside her and added his warmth to the blanket’s.
“I need to take you home. You’re in no shape to go to the meeting.”
She hated to admit it, but he was right. “I guess I’m not really needed. Elder Davon will handle things just fine. And you can tell them anything they need to know about the wizards.” She thought longingly of her own bed, of quiet darkness and sleep, of her father’s brusque but tender care.
Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) Page 35