CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Ranira broke the silence. “I thought Mist needed that stone to do her spells,” she said. “Is she going to be safe without it?”
“At least as safe as we are with it,” Arelnath said, looking almost amused. “The moonstone is a source of power, but it is not the only one there is. Mist will manage.” She fingered the stone for a moment, then hung the chain from her belt, just behind her sword. She settled herself on the ground next to Jaren and looked up at Ranira. “You might as well make yourself comfortable; I think we are going to have a rather long wait.”
The morning passed slowly. The fog never completely dissipated. Grey tendrils continued to shift among the trees long after most of the air had cleared. The two Cilhar did not seem to be affected by the dreary atmosphere. They sat side by side, polishing the two Temple swords with scraps of clothing and conversing in low voices. Shandy spent most of the morning sleeping, which left Ranira with little to do besides think.
She was glad enough to do so. She was surprised to find how many of her fears and doubts of the three foreigners had proven baseless. The stories the Temple encouraged about foreigners were obviously a fraud, but Ranira was not certain why the Temple so earnestly discouraged contact with strangers. Perhaps it was because they feared what such knowledge might bring. She was even more surprised to realize how much her own future had become tied to her three new friends. Their concerns had become hers, even before she had discovered that she, too, was a witch.
Idly, Ranira tried to picture herself back in Drinn. If she had not been unlucky enough to catch Gadrath’s eye, some new innkeeper or merchant—possibly even a noble—would hold her bond now, and she would be working in his kitchens until the bond was paid. Then what? She realized that she had never had a clear idea what she would do when her bond was canceled and she was free again. With no relatives to go to and the reputation of a witch-child to live down, she would probably have ended up as one of the women in the shacks at the edge of Drinn, where the castoffs of the Temple priests went. She shuddered at the thought. The movement made her veil shift. She automatically put up a hand to straighten it, then paused.
Slowly, Ranira removed the veil and looked at it. It was dusty and streaked; a small twig was caught in the cord, and there was a tear at one side. It was a short veil, the kind foreign women wore in deference to the customs of Drinn. But Ranira was no longer in Drinn, and it would be death to return. How much a foreigner did she want to be?
Even more slowly than before, she crumpled the veil into a little ball and stuffed it into the pocket of the pilgrim’s robe. She would become accustomed to not wearing it, she supposed. She was already growing used to the sight of Mist’s unveiled face, and Arelnath’s did not bother her at all. Even so, Ranira felt as if she were severing her last tie to Drinn. ‘That is silly,’ she told herself. ‘I don’t want any more ties to Drinn. If I had any, the Temple priests would use them to follow me and burn me for a witch.’
Ranira looked up. Arelnath was watching her, but all the woman said was, “Good. You will not attract nearly as much attention outside the Empire.”
Shandy awoke near noon. He was loud in his disapproval of Ranira’s unveiled condition, which only succeeded in making her more determined never to wear a veil again. Their argument was loud and long, and managed to release much of Ranira’s tension. It was almost a relief to have someone to shout at. Finally, Arelnath and Jaren put a stop to it, pointing out that the two combatants were making enough noise to attract Templemen all the way from Drinn.
The truth behind this exaggeration silenced both Ranira and Shandy at once. Shandy retired to sulk beneath one of the trees. Ranira could not help wondering what this latest strain would do to her friendship with the boy. Her anger evaporated quickly, though she still resented Shandy’s highhanded orders. She was somewhat relieved when she saw Jaren beckon to the boy and begin talking to him. Shandy’s glower quickly vanished, and he sat down beside the blond man, listening intently.
Arelnath came over to Ranira a moment later, chuckling. “Jaren is telling him about our adventures,” she said. “Only about a third of it is true, but it will keep Shandy busy for a while. He may even learn to be a little quieter with his criticisms, though that could be expecting a little too much.”
“Shandy is all right,” Ranira said. She groped for words to explain. “It is just that in Drinn the only way to stay out of the Watchmen’s way is not to be noticed, and that means doing everything as they wish.”
“I mean no insult to your friend,” Arelnath replied. “He is young and has much to learn, that is all. I think he will do very well, once he has adjusted to the idea that very few people outside the Empire of Chaldreth would approve of some of your customs and beliefs.”
“I think Shandy will learn quickly,” Ranira said. She was a little surprised by Arelnath’s understanding. She opened her mouth to continue, but was interrupted by a cry from Jaren.
Ranira turned. Jaren was on his feet, his sword moving rapidly as he beat back the strokes of the Templemen attacking him. More black-robed men appeared. Ranira had little time to wonder what had happened to Mist’s warding spells. She drew her dagger and started forward.
A black robe blocked her way. Ranira struck out with the dagger. The metal rang as the guard blocked it with his sword. She struck again. She felt a dull shock as something hit her arm. Then her dagger met resistance, and she heard a cry of surprise. The dagger was wrenched from her numb fingers as the Templeman fell back. Beyond, she could see Jaren and Arelnath, their backs pressed against the same tree and their swords dancing among the Temple guards without pause. Two of the Templemen lay motionless in front of Jaren, and another was collapsing in front of Arelnath.
A hand grabbed Ranira’s arm and swung her around. She struck out with her free hand. Behind her a voice cried, “Alive, you fools! I will have them alive!” Ranira struck again before her hand was caught and held. Only when she had ceased to struggle did she realize that her right arm hurt and that something wet was running across her hand. She looked down, then looked up again quickly. The Templeman’s sword had put a large, slanting cut in her upper arm; it was not a pretty sight.
Ranira’s captor tied her hands quickly and went to assist the Templeman she had wounded. The other guards were closing in on Arelnath and Jaren. Their numbers worked against them—there were too many Templemen to attack effectively at the same time. “Back. Ring them!” a voice commanded. Ranira craned her neck in an effort to see the speaker. It was Gadrath.
Her mouth went slack with astonishment. Gadrath was High Priest. How could he leave Drinn at the climax of Midwinter Festival? Unless Erenal had lied…. But no, Gadrath wore the smoky-black crystal pendant that symbolized the office of the High Priest. Ranira shivered.
The Temple guards began to move in response to Gadrath’s order. The ring around Arelnath and Jaren widened until the Templemen were just out of sword’s reach. Four of the Templemen lay sprawled on the ground in front of the two Cilhar. Another was struggling to his feet, one hand pressed to his side. Arelnath and Jaren made no attempt to stop him.
Gadrath moved forward, his eyes flickering across the clearing. “I see I will have to do this work myself. It is a pity that twelve of the finest guards of the Temple of Chaldon cannot subdue a man and a youth,” he sneered. “But at least you have managed to capture the girl. Ah, but there are no longer so many of you. No doubt, that accounts for it.” A small, cold smile settled on Gadrath’s lips. “Let me show you how such as these ought to be dealt with.”
Gadrath’s right hand rose and clasped the pendant. Ranira shivered. The gesture was the same she had seen Mist use in spell-casting, but in the hands of the High Priest of Chaldon it seemed far more menacing. “By the power of Chaldon!” Gadrath said, and his left hand gestured.
A bright, blue-white light flared around Arelnath, momentarily blinding Ranira. When her eyes cleared, she saw Jaren and Arelnath fro
zen motionless in the center of the ring of Templemen. “Bind them, “Gadrath ordered. His voice was triumphant, but his eyes watched Arelnath narrowly, and his hand still held the crystal pendant. Ranira was too relieved to care. She had been afraid that the spell holding Jaren and Arelnath was permanent, but Gadrath would have no need to bind them if the spell alone would keep them motionless.
A guard hurried forward with two pairs of iron cuffs, each linked by a short, strong chain. Warily, he approached Arelnath and Jaren. Neither moved. With growing confidence, the guard plucked the sword from Arelnath’s hand and fastened the chains about her wrists. Grinning, he repeated the procedure with Jaren and swaggered back to join his fellows. Gadrath’s smile widened; his right hand dropped to his side.
As Gadrath’s hand left the crystal, the motionless figures came alive. The Templemen closed in once more. Ranira glanced quickly around the clearing. She saw no sign of Shandy. She was beginning to hope that the boy had escaped in the confusion. Then she saw the branches above Arelnath sway slightly, although there was no wind. Ranira looked away at once. If Shandy was hiding in the tree, she did not wish to draw the attention of a Templeman to him.
Gadrath was still watching Arelnath. “Search them,” he said abruptly. “Especially the youth.” He walked forward, then paused. His eyes narrowed. He held up a hand. The guards stopped in confusion. Gadrath bowed mockingly to Arelnath.
“Forgive me, Lady,” he said. “I am not accustomed to women who dress as boys. No doubt you have some excellent reason.”
“No doubt,” Arelnath said dryly. The guard behind her jerked her arm, but Arelnath ignored him. She studied Gadrath for a moment, as he had studied her, then snorted and appeared to lose interest. Gadrath’s lips tightened.
“Search them,” the new High Priest said again. The guards surged forward once more. They had almost reached Arelnath when a loud crack above them drew their attention upward. A moment later, Shandy plummeted into their midst, still clutching the dead branch that had given under his weight.
Arelnath alone moved fast enough. She twisted sideways and held out her arms just in time to break Shandy’s fall. The boy’s weight knocked her to the ground, and for a moment all Ranira could see was a tangle of arms and legs.
“Ow! Leave me alone!” Shandy yelled. “No! I don’t like witches. Let me up!” The boy struggled clear at last and jumped to his feet as Arelnath sat up. He backed away from her, fists clenched. “You stay away from me, you witch!”
Arelnath rose and began dusting herself off, moving awkwardly because of the iron cuffs. Shandy backed up another couple of steps and bumped into a Templeman. Shandy did not seem to notice; his eyes never left Arelnath. Ranira had never seen him look so frightened. She could not understand it. Shandy disapproved of the foreigners, but he had never been afraid of them. Gadrath’s cool voice cut across her thoughts.
“An admirable demonstration,” he said. “But I am afraid you will have to be more convincing if you hope to avoid the House of Correction.”
Shandy looked down, but his posture did not change. Gadrath’s lips curled faintly, and he turned away. “I believe you were preparing to search your prisoners,” he said with exaggerated politeness to the guards. He nodded at Arelnath. “Take particular care with her. She should not have been able to resist Chaldon’s power at all.”
The Templemen hurried to obey, and a wave of horror swept Ranira. The moonstone! That must be what Gadrath wanted. The guards would surely find it. Ranira remembered Arelnath hanging the chain in plain sight on her belt. She did not know what would happen if the moonstone fell into the hands of the Temple of Chaldon, but it could hardly be good. She held her breath, ignoring the hands that patted at her robe, watching the group around Arelnath.
The guards finished, and one of them stepped forward to deposit their plunder in front of Gadrath. It was a small pile: Shandy’s battered water bottle, Erenal’s flask and knife, a few scraps of cloth, and the empty swordbelts Jaren had taken from the Templemen in Drinn. Ranira strained to see. No, the moonstone was not there. She was sure of it.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Shandy shift. She moved her head slightly to see what he was doing. The boy stood almost motionless, staring at Arelnath with a belligerent pout on his face. As Ranira watched, one grubby fist crept down and disappeared into a hole in his clothing that might once have been a pocket. Suddenly Ranira knew what Arelnath had done with the moonstone. No wonder Shandy was frightened! Between his fear of witchcraft and his fear of being caught with the stone, the boy was nearly panic-stricken.
Gadrath had finished examining the pile and was berating the guards. “Does any of this look like something capable of resisting a god?” he said scornfully. “Look again. You have missed something. No, just that one,” he said as the guards started for Jaren and Ranira as well as Arelnath. “She is the only one who showed any sign of resistance.”
Ranira wanted to sigh with relief, but she did not dare give any outward sign that might direct the Templemen to more fruitful areas. She kept her eyes turned away from Shandy, watching in silence as the Temple guards searched Arelnath once more. They were very thorough, but there was nothing for them to find.
At last Gadrath was forced to admit that Arelnath had no talisman which might have protected her, however briefly, from his spell. When he finished deriding his guards for their failure, he had the four travelers collected into one group. He looked at them for a moment. “Now, where is the other woman?”
“Other woman?” Arelnath said. “Aren’t two enough for you?”
“You are foolish indeed to mock the High Priest of Chaldon,” Gadrath said. “I mean the black-haired witch who accompanied you at the Inn of Nine Doors. Your mistress, I believe. Where is she?”
Arelnath shrugged. “She died two… no, three nights ago, just as Kaldarin rose.”
“I do not believe you,” Gadrath said. “Where is her body?”
“Why should we carry a corpse with us?” Jaren asked. “We left it in the clump of trees where we spent the night.”
Gadrath smiled. He studied each of them in turn, then shook his head. “I still do not believe you. None of you have the ability to cast spells like the ones I neutralized to find you.” He turned. “Guard. Send someone out to find the black-haired witch. She can’t be far. She is probably heading for one of those people we stopped. She would not have gone off alone if she did not expect to find friends.”
One of the guards stepped forward and bowed. “Sir, Revered Lord and Master, there are but eight of us left, and two of us are wounded. There are not enough men for a search of Karadreme Forest.”
“What guards!” Gadrath said. “You cannot fight, you cannot think, and you cannot search. Very well. I will do your work once more.” He clenched the pendant again and raised his other hand. Slowly he brought his arm down until it was parallel to the ground, pointing.
“That way,” Gadrath said. His lips curved very slightly. “She is indeed the one I want. I can feel the spells she uses to warn herself. Take two men; that will be more than enough. Bring her back here. I will see that her spells cannot detect or harm you.”
The chief of the Templemen bowed again. He turned and snapped an order. Two other guards stepped forward, and all three knelt before Gadrath. The High Priest moved a hand above them briefly. His other hand was still wrapped around the black crystal. A moment later the guards rose and left the clearing, moving rapidly in the direction Gadrath had chosen for them.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Numbly, Ranira watched the Templemen until they were out of sight. She tried to believe that they would lose their way in the forest, or that Mist would be able to hide somehow when they came near. Or perhaps Mist could reach the Trader caravan before the guards caught up with her. After all, it was midafternoon, and she had been gone since morning. Ranira glanced at Gadrath.
The High Priest stood looking after his men, his hand closed about his pendant, a confident s
mile on his face. After a moment, his grasp on the pendant loosened and his hand slid almost reluctantly away from it. Some trick of light made the smoky crystal seem darker than it had a moment before. It was an unpleasant reminder of the black jewels Jaren and Arelnath had smashed. Ranira’s head began to swim. She looked away. As she did, she swayed and nearly fell.
“Unless you want her to bleed to death, someone had better see to that arm,” Arelnath commented.
Arelnath’s guard jerked at her chains to silence her, but not before Gadrath noticed the brief exchange. He turned and studied Ranira for a moment, then ordered one of the Templemen to see to her. Hands pulled the rough cloth of the pilgrim’s robe away from Ranira’s shoulder and placed a crude bandage over the wound, then tied Ranira’s hands behind her once more. The guard seemed deliberately clumsy and the process was painful, but the pain helped Ranira’s head to clear.
Gadrath watched until the guard had finished. His eyes lingered deliberately on Ranira’s unveiled face. Her hands moved automatically to hide herself, but the bonds on her wrists prevented it. Gadrath smiled. Angrily, Ranira lifted her chin and glared back at the High Priest.
“We meet again, my dear,” Gadrath said at last with a mocking bow. “I must congratulate you. You are much more resourceful than I had expected.”
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“There are things I need to know. You and your friends will tell me. Is that not simple?”
Arelnath snorted. Gadrath glanced at her, then looked back at Ranira. “I won’t tell you anything,” she said.
Gadrath smiled again. “I think you will, Chosen One. You really have no choice. And do not think to lie to me. I am High Priest now. I have powers you would not understand. I will know if you lie.” Gadrath’s right hand rose toward the crystal pendant. As he finished speaking, he looked down; his hand stopped moving abruptly, as if he had only just realized what he was doing. Ranira thought she saw fear move briefly across the High Priest’s face before he looked up again.
[Lyra 02] - Daughter of Witches Page 20