“You forget one more has the power to overthrow you, Lord Keverin. I will send to the Holy Father for a ruling.” Jymis climbed to his feet. “I will pronounce anathema on you, and you will fall.”
Marcus moved in a blink, but Keverin halted him with a glare. “Hold!”
Jymis looked back at Marcus whose eyes glittered with the need to stop him from harming his lord. Marcus knew as well as Keverin did that there were more types of harm than the merely physical. If the Holy Father did rule in Jymis’ favour, the people would have little choice but to heed it. Anything else would imperil their souls.
“You would do well to look to your own soul, Marcus. This man—” Jymis said pointing at Keverin who now stood as well. “This man will lead you to ruin.”
“My lord Keverin is the best lord we could have in these times. Any who say differently are fools and worse than fools. Only a traitor would attempt to weaken Athione in time of war. Be warned lord bishop, if you attempt to pull my lord down, I will kill you.”
“That’s enough,” Keverin grated. “You will not harm this man Marcus—I order it. The bishop will be leaving now to—” he turned to Jymis. “Do you wish lodgings here?”
“No. I will stay with Father Dobry,” Jymis said and made for the door without a by your leave.
After Marcus’ words who could blame Jymis for turning down Athione’s hospitality? Dobry was a priest in East Town. He was an uncommonly intelligent man. Keverin had no second thoughts where Dobry was concerned. With luck he would see the obvious and dissuade Jymis from his recklessness.
Keverin let Jymis go and turned to Gideon who was looking unsure what to do for the best. “Escort him, Gideon. Tell two of the men to accompany you.”
“Thank you my lord, but the bishop arrived with a squad of the Red Guard.”
That was a surprise. The Red Guard rarely left Holy Isle, but it did save him needing to send an escort.
“Fine then, but you had better go.”
Gideon bowed and hurried away to catch Jymis.
“That was ill done, Marcus. I thank you for the thought behind your action, but I fear you have made matters worse.”
Marcus snorted. “Forgive me my lord, but that man is not a fool. He knows what removing The Lady would mean.”
The Lady? Marcus was beginning to sound like the men. They already looked upon Julia with awe, and Keverin had an inkling why that was. She was literally one of a kind. In their minds, and his he supposed, she was sent by the God to save them. It was a miracle they said, and who was he to deny the truth of that? It was a miracle. What could be more unlikely than a woman with the gift?
“If not a fool, then a traitor,” Keverin said troubled. “I don’t believe that. He’s a man of the God. Why would he want Athione to fall?”
“Who can say? One thing I do know, he’s trouble of the worse kind. I will challenge him for you and—”
“You will not!” Keverin said clenching his fists. “You have your orders where Jymis is concerned. Anyway, you know full well a priest cannot be challenged.” He saw rebellion crystallise into a decision in Marcus’ eyes. “And I will not have murder on my conscience,” he said cutting that avenue off before Marcus did more than think about it. “Give oath.”
“My lord!” Marcus gasped in shock.
“Give oath I say.”
“Yes my lord,” Marcus said with a sigh. He circled his heart and spoke the words. “I swear not to harm the lord bishop Jymis—”
“Nor order it,” Keverin added quickly as he saw another path to Jymis’ death.
Marcus hesitated for a long moment. “And I further swear not to order his death,” he said stiffly.
“Good,” Keverin said clapping his captain on the shoulder to soften the indignity of being ordered to give an oath. “Now then, we have some decisions to make. Jymis will do what he said he would do, of that I have no doubt. Traitor or not, we need to stop that somehow.”
“I liked my idea better.”
Keverin grinned. “It had the promise of being permanent at least. No, killing a priest is a bad business, Marcus. Besides, if I go around killing those I don’t like, how am I different from Mortain and his ilk?”
“You are the exact opposite my lord! There’s no similarity at all.”
“I thank you,” Keverin inclined his head. “But I would see it stay that way. No killing.”
“You have my oath my lord, but if I may give council?”
“I would appreciate it.”
“Write a letter—a long letter to both the King and the Holy Father. Don’t let Jymis poison them against you.”
“Good idea. I’ll send them with our best courier. Has Julia healed Ged yet?”
Marcus shook his head. “He died early this morning my lord.”
Curse them! Every candlemark that went by, more names were added to the death rolls. Men he had known for years. “His brother?”
“Healed but grieving my lord.”
“Have him up here. I think a change of surroundings might help Kinnon with that.”
Marcus nodded and turned to leave, but as he did so he stumbled slightly.
“You are injured?” Keverin said with concern.
“It’s nothing my lord, a mere scratch.”
Keverin frowned, but nodded. Marcus left to find Kinnon and Keverin sat behind his desk to pen the letters, but as he progressed he seriously wondered if the King would even read his. As far as Keverin knew, the Chancellor held no ill will toward him, but that did not mean he would help either. The Holy Father then was his only real chance to avoid disaster. Keverin made that letter the stronger of his two thrusts. He looked upon this as an attack no less important than the Hasians in the pass. What point winning the war, only to lose to internal division?
Keverin finished composing the letters and laboriously re-copied them in his best hand. He wrote deliberately and precisely to the King, but he decided to personalise the one to the Holy Father by enquiring after his health, and speaking as one friend to another. The man was quite old now and frail, but his mind was as sharp as a sword. Farran would see the implications, he was sure.
Kinnon had still not arrived by the time Keverin was finished, so he read through the letter to the King before progressing to the second one.
—and I hope this finds you in good health. Jessica was very pleased with your gift and treasures it. I am sure you will receive her thanks before long, but this is not the time for happy news my friend.
That should help to remind Farran of Athione’s friendship. Jessica and Farran had long been friends, but it couldn’t hurt to remind him. Besides, Jessica truly did enjoy his poetry. The Holy Father had been something of a scholar before ascending his throne. He still wrote when he had time, but spare time was rare for those in positions of authority, as Keverin well knew.
Farran’s little book of poems was well written. Keverin had taken the liberty of having it copied for the library. Of course the binding was plain and undecorated unlike Jessica’s copy, but at least the work could be enjoyed by those who preferred to read within the fortress. It was very popular in the women’s quarter.
Keverin scanned the pages of his letter.
—Lord bishop Jymis. He was of the opinion that I fail in my duty to the Church by sheltering her... I’m afraid he will no doubt contact you with his request. I must strongly urge you not to do this thing. Julia is our salvation, without her we are lost... We have many dead here and I commend their souls to Him...
The girl is no witch, on my honour she is not! Without her, my losses would be far greater than they are, but even with her aid I am informed of more deaths among the wounded with each candlemark that passes...
That painted a grim picture indeed, and it was exactly what Keverin wanted. The worse he made it seem, the more dire Julia’s removal would be. He did not have to work hard to make things seem dire—they could hardly be more dire!
—Darius is gone to the God. Gone from me with all my mages except
Mathius and Julia...
The God sent her to me, this I believe with all my heart. Marcus advises precipitant action, but I have his oath to proceed no further with this. Jymis will no doubt inform you of a threat to his life. I swear to you this will not happen. He is safe within my fortress for as long as we are safe from the sorcerers, how long this will be I do not know. Jymis has taken up residence with Dobry in East Town...
That should work against Jymis. He was bound to report Marcus’s words in the worst possible light, but with luck, the letter would cut off that line of attack.
Julia can be an infuriating girl. She is but a child, but still her tongue can flay the hide off of Moriz!
Keverin chuckled at that part and thought the Holy Father would as well. As a priest, the Holy Father was celibate, but he had lived long enough to know what living with a woman like Julia was like. That girl was fiery, that’s what she was. Coming too close to her would be a bad mistake to make. She would burn him without the aid of magic!
The men call her THE Lady as if there could be no other. They are in awe of her and regard her presence here as a miracle. The God help me, I do too. She took a war arrow through the shoulder and didn’t cry until they pulled it out. I would have been screaming long before.
A slight exaggeration there at the end, but he wished to paint her as a brave girl who was relying on the Holy Father for protection, which wasn’t far from the truth.
Please know that I bare you all friendship and goodwill. I dare to predict that you will like Julia. With the God’s blessing, we may come through this so that you may meet her and see her innocence for yourself.
Your friend and servant,
Keverin, Lord of Athione.
That should do it. Keverin sealed both letters and impressed his seal into the hot wax. He blew over the crossed fists of Athione to cool the wax faster and stood to see what was keeping Kinnon. Marcus should have returned with him long ago. Keverin found Marcus outside the citadel, but Kinnon was nowhere to be seen.
Marcus looked grim as he reported. “I think he went over the wall my lord.”
Over the wall was a way of saying Kinnon had left his post without permission. “Kinnon’s family live in East Town do they not?”
“Yes my lord. I will visit them and—”
“No, leave them to their grief. I would speak to Galen.”
Marcus nodded and walked by his side. Keverin rounded the citadel to enter the east courtyard. There was no sign of anyone. The stamping of hooves in the stables and an occasional voice speaking to calm the beasts broke the quiet.
Keverin had lost a great many horses in the attack, but he had more than enough for his men. It was a grim fact that although the west stables were completely destroyed in the attack, he had lost more men than horses. He wished it otherwise, but at least his men wouldn’t be afoot when a charge became possible again. If it ever did.
The gates were Galen’s only responsibility. He should be at his post within the leftmost tower. Keverin entered and blinked trying to accustom his eyes to the darkness. He found Galen whittling a doll’s face for his youngest daughter.
“Have you seen Kinnon today, Galen?”
Galen gasped and shot to his feet already saluting.
“Relax man,” Keverin said but Galen remained at attention. “I’m looking for Kinnon. Have you let anyone out today?”
“Yes m’lord. I mean I let the bishop and them Pretty-Boys out a while back, but Kinnon... I ain’t seen him m’lord.”
The term Pretty-Boys was a common and disparaging name for the Church’s Red Guard. They did look pretty in their uniforms, but they were useless for real work. Even a half decent guardsman could chop them into dog meat.
“Hmmm, I need him for something. Any ideas?”
“I heard tell his little brother died, m’lord. He’s probably praying in the chapel.”
Keverin hadn’t thought of that. “Good thought,” he said and turned to leave, but stopped as an idea came to him. “Lock the gates and don’t open for anyone. Send someone to either Marcus or myself. Clear?”
“Yes m’lord, but what if them Pretty-Boys come back?”
“This is for them especially, Galen. Them and the bishop.”
“I’ll take care of it m’lord.”
“Good.”
Back outside he asked if Marcus had checked the chapel.
“I didn’t think of it, my lord,” Marcus admitted.
Keverin led the way and found that indeed Kinnon was in the chapel. Keverin told Marcus to go back to his duties; he would talk to Kinnon alone. Marcus bowed and left.
“I’m sorry to intrude Kinnon,” Keverin said as the door clicked shut behind him.
Kinnon stood. “I swapped duty with Danil m’lord—”
“That’s fine,” Keverin said and indicated they should sit. “I didn’t come about that.”
Kinnon was ill at ease speaking to his lord alone. Keverin understood that and sat first hoping to make him feel better. Kinnon sat next to him looking at the statue of the God.
“Ged was my only brother m’lord.”
“I know. I’m sorry this happened.”
Kinnon didn’t appear to have heard. “The Lady tried for more than three candlemarks to wake him from his swoon. I sat with her holding his hand, but he slipped away without waking. The Lady was so tired after we had to carry her to bed.”
Keverin squeezed his eyes shut trying not to see the scene but it was no good. He could imagine Julia working silently in the great hall with ease. He had seen her there only a few short candlemarks ago. That she had worked herself to exhaustion worried him. What if the sorcerers attacked again? He felt guilty thinking those thoughts, but someone had to. He should go to her and order that she rest.
He did nothing.
“I need you, Kinnon.”
“M’lord?”
“I’m sorry for your loss, but The Lady is in danger.”
“What danger?” Kinnon asked sharply.
Keverin calmed him with a hand on his shoulder. “Peace my friend she is safe for the moment. What I tell you must remain between us.”
“I swear to tell no one m’lord.”
“The lord bishop visited with me earlier. He accuses Julia of witchcraft and would put her on trial for heresy.”
“The Lady is no witch!” Kinnon said angrily. “She saved me. She saved all of us!”
“I know. That’s why I need you to take these letters to Devarr,” Keverin said waving the letters briefly. “This one is for the King or his Chancellor and no other. But this one is the more important of the two. I want you to give it to the Holy Father... No, give it to Patriarch Dugan. He will see it safely to the Holy Father.”
“I can do that, but so could many. If I might ask m’lord—”
“Why you?”
“Yes m’lord.”
“The reason is that I don’t trust the lord bishop.”
Kinnon burst out laughing. “All know it m’lord! I can’t blame you after what he said about The Lady.”
“I want you to go to Devarr as fast as you can, but I want you safe. I’m not saying the bishop would try to stop you, but...” Keverin shrugged leaving his fear unsaid. “The letters are vital, but I value you as I valued your brother. I don’t want you taking risks with your life. You must reach the King and the Holy Father before Jymis can poison them against me. You know what will happen if they take Julia from us.”
“That won’t happen,” Kinnon growled and accepted the letters into his keeping.
“Let us go down and find you a pair of good horses. I want you away from here as soon as possible. I expect the bishop will be sending his own letters before long.”
“I know all the trails m’lord. I’ll not take the roads.”
They made their way to the east stables and Keverin watched as two horses were brought out. Marcus had foreseen the need for supplies and arranged for them to be waiting.
Kinnon mounted up and rode out the gate
with his remount on a lead rein.
“Lock her up tight,” Keverin ordered and the gates boomed shut.
Bang... clunk!
The sound echoed with finality as the locking bars drove home.
* * *
8 ~ East Town
Julia was at the top of the gate tower staring down at thousands of soldiers. They were looking up at her, but when she made no move, they attacked her friends. Mathius died and then Keverin. Udall fell protecting Jessica—Halbert and Moriz died side by side as they had lived.
This isn’t right... this didn’t happen.
“This is wrong!” Julia screamed. “It didn’t happen this way I tell you!”
Julia blinked in sudden surprise. She was at the top of the gate tower staring down at thousands of soldiers. They were looking up at her, but when she made no move they attacked her friends.
No, not again!
Julia attacked relentlessly with her magic. Bodies flew in all directions and she laughed to see it. There was blood everywhere—she was covered in it. She laughed when she saw more of the enemy coming.
“I’ll kill you all!” Julia screamed at them.
“Thou shalt not kill, Julia. It is not our place to take a life. Not even our own.”
Julia spun and backed hard against the wall. Father Preston stood on the broken steps. He was exactly how she remembered him, totally unstained by the blood that she was drenched in.
“This isn’t real!” She screamed at him.
“I know it’s hard Julia, but you will accept this in time—you will,” he said with his kindly smile.
“No... you didn’t mean this, that was before.”
“You will accept this,” Preston pointed.
Julia didn’t want to look but she couldn’t help herself. Turning she looked down and screamed...
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 16