At an intersection, Ash stopped, searching awkwardly for words. “Um...this is where I say good night.” She pointed with her thumb. “My home’s down there. I’ll be seeing you around. And I’m sorry it wasn’t a more pleasant journey.”
“Thank you for getting us here, and...” Rohanna’s voice also trailed off.
There was not much else to say, certainly not while they were standing in the freezing cold. After two months in her company, watching Ash walk away was strange. Natasha felt still odder when Dani also made to head off. The young heretic plainly shared her unease and dithered, “I live behind my shop. If it was earlier, I’d invite you in, but...of course, if you’d like, you could—”
“Jess needs to get herself settled in with us,” Rohanna interrupted on Natasha’s behalf. “I’m sure she’d be happy to visit you tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Natasha quickly agreed.
“Right, then. I’ll be off. And I’ll come and find you tomorrow...after dinner.”
“Fine.” Natasha wanted to say more, but the words would not come. By tomorrow evening, the mission would probably be over, and she would be dead. Natasha watched Dani disappear around a corner. They had, most likely, just said their final good night.
Kim led the way to a large square in the center of town. She dispatched one Ranger on an errand and dismissed the other; then she pushed open the door of a substantial stone house. “I’ve just sent for Mirle to find out where you’re being put. She deals with such things. We can wait in my house until she gets here. It will be warmer.”
The room they entered was large. Several doors led to adjoining rooms. The furnishings were simply, but solidly, constructed with a table and benches in one corner and a couple of deep chests against a wall. The only light came from the dying fire in the hearth, but the room was not unoccupied. A woman had been dozing in a chair in front of the fire. The sound of the door roused her.
“You’re back already? Did you find them?”
“As you can see.” Kim lit a lantern and gestured to where Natasha stood with the others, just inside the doorway.
The woman slipped out of her chair and came forward. She was a good few centimeters shorter than Natasha and looked to be about forty. Her eyes were large, set in a delicately molded face. She and Kim exchanged a hug and a quick kiss of greeting; then Kim partially freed herself from the embrace and turned back. “This is my partner, Lynn. I’m sure you’ve heard of her. And these are Rohanna, Cal, and Jess.” Kim pointed out the respective people as she made the informal introduction.
The Chief Consultant was wrong. They are lovers! The thought hit Natasha like a blow, immediately followed by, We’re alone with our remaining targets. Will it be over so soon? She looked at the two women standing arm in arm. The knife in her belt felt alive, as if it were twitching of its own accord.
Natasha’s eyes flicked toward Rohanna, dreading to see the signal to strike, yet the senior Guard was behaving as though nothing exceptional had happened or was likely to happen. She was going through a bland set of responses—how pleased they were to arrive, how nice it was to meet at last. Natasha had gotten used to feeling like an actress, but now, she did not seem to be in the same play as everyone else.
The door opened again, and a thin-faced woman entered. Her hair was streaked with gray, though she did not look much older than Kim or Lynn. A cloak was pulled tightly around her square shoulders. “I hear you found them,” she mumbled through a yawn.
“They’d almost made it here on their own,” Kim replied before launching again into rapid introductions. She finished by indicating the newcomer. “This is Mirle Lorenzo, deputy leader of Westernfort. She gets the job of sorting out all the administrative parts I can’t be bothered with. I salve my conscience by telling myself she enjoys the challenge.”
Mirle laughed. “Oh, but I do. And can I assume that the current challenge is finding a home for these three?”
“And reading my mind is another part of her job,” Kim tacked on.
“And not grumbling when I get dragged out of bed.”
“Were you in bed?”
“No. But I wouldn’t have grumbled if I had been.”
The leader and her deputy were clearly on friendly terms, but regardless of whether Mirle had been in bed, it was too late for anyone to want to linger with idle chatter. Polite words of good night were exchanged, and then Natasha was back in the open, trailing Mirle and the others across the darkened square. The lateness and cold meant that the streets were mainly empty, although there was still some activity around something that looked suspiciously like a tavern.
After a short walk, they arrived at another stone building and entered a large common room where several people were gossiping by the hearth. Natasha felt detached from her surroundings. She stood back while Mirle and another woman talked to Rohanna, explaining the living arrangements of the block and the locations of various amenities and giving the names of other residents. Then they were led along a corridor leading off the communal area. Doors lined both sides. Mirle finally opened one halfway down the row, and they were ushered through.
The room they entered was small, three meters square, with plain, lime-washed walls. A shuttered window was opposite the door. The only furnishings were a box bed built into one wall and a chest under the window. A ladder led up to an opening for the loft space.
“There’s a pallet and blanket up there for you,” Mirle said.
Natasha realized that the comment was for her and nodded. After a last round of advice, Mirle bid them good night and closed the door behind her.
“It’s a bit small, but better than camping in the snow,” Rohanna said in a loud but ordinary voice. “Would you like something to eat before sleeping?”
Natasha stared at her. For a moment, she doubted her own sanity. Maybe she really was Rohanna’s daughter, and the mission was a delusion. Then she saw that the senior Guard was checking the room while keeping up a string of idle chatter, inspecting both the loft and outside the window. At last, Rohanna beckoned the other two closer until their heads were touching.
“The new information means there has to be a change in plan,” she whispered so quietly that even someone standing at the other side of the room would have been hard-pressed to hear.
“Which part of it?” Cal asked.
“The new town, Ginasberg. Do you realize what it means?” Not waiting for an answer, Rohanna went on, “If the heretics have two strong bases, we’ll never manage to purge the planet of them. If we attack one town, we’d have another gang of heretics at our back, free to hit our supply lines. We failed to conquer Westernfort because we discovered it too late, but with the new site…even Ramon admitted that it’s not yet secure. We must get word about it back to Landfall.”
“How?” Again it was Cal who asked the question.
“We must wait until spring, when you, with your Ranger training, will have a chance of getting through.” Rohanna paused. “And there will be another slight change in the plan since Gina is dead. The mission was to execute the heretics’ leader, the captain of their Rangers, and their Imprinter. Gina has been called to account for her crimes, and Ramon is now the leader. The captain is Chip Coppelli, and executing her has therefore become our third objective.”
“But...” Natasha began and then stopped. She wanted things over and done with. Though her enthusiasm for the mission had gone, delay would only make it worse. Neither did she want to add more names to their list. “The Chief Consultant gave our targets by name. She said it wouldn’t be murder to kill those three, since they’ve already been tried and convicted.”
“Every heretic is under sentence of death,” Rohanna whispered. “The more we dispose of, the better. Those the Chief Consultant named were merely our top three.” She paused. “We needed Ash O’Neil to get us here, but I’ll admit I spent some time on the trail wondering if I could engineer an accident for the other one, especially once the food ran low.”
Natasha spun to f
ace the window, unable to control her expression. Rohanna put an arm about her shoulder and gently pulled her back into the huddle. “That shocks you?”
“It’s just…Dani...after everything…I mean...I’m sure she could be...”
“Brought back into the faith?” Rohanna finished the sentence.
Natasha nodded.
“It’s easy to forget how young you are. You don’t have our experience of the world.” Rohanna spoke gently, brushing the hair from Natasha’s forehead. “It can be hard if you spend too much time with any heretic. You start to feel pity for her. You wonder if some awful tragedy turned her away from the Goddess and whether you can return her to a state of grace. But you can’t. I’ve met dozens like Dani, and I’ve learned to see through the façade. It’s not hard. Ask her what she’d do if she had a wounded Guard at her mercy. Her soul is polluted. The pity you should feel is for the innocent ones she’d corrupt if she had the chance. You must wear the love of the Goddess about your heart like a shield.”
Natasha closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It was desire rather than pity that she felt, but the rest of Rohanna’s words hit their mark. Dani was her enemy, yet it was hard to subdue her emotions. She felt in need of help. “I wish I had a copy of The Book of the Elder-Ones to read from.”
“I’d also be grateful for the comfort. I don’t think we’ll find one here, but I could go and ask in the common room.” Rohanna’s voice held a dry irony. She kept her arm around Natasha and hugged her as she went on. “You’re doing well. It’s easy to pray in the temple—much harder when you’re isolated and surrounded by nonbelievers. You were chosen for the strength of your faith. Don’t let it slip.”
Cal joined in. “It was a rough journey. The five of us had to work together. I had to force myself not to think of them as comrades.”
“And I guess you’re not happy about delaying the mission? You’d rather get it over with?” Rohanna suggested.
“Yes.”
“That’s understandable. I’d find it easier myself. But you must remain strong for another few months. I know you can do it. And if you ever need to talk to someone, you only have to ask. At least now, we have the privacy of our own room. I wouldn’t leave you to battle alone through the web of the heretics’ lies.”
Natasha could only nod, but it was comforting to know that Rohanna understood her confusion and was neither critical nor angry. Rather, the older woman was willing to offer support. Rohanna was more truly her mother than Cilla Ionadis had ever been. And surely it would be easier, now that she could spend more time alone with the two Guards and less with Ash and Dani. This was her chance to rebuild the purity of her faith, before death took her to Celaeno’s halls of judgment.
Rohanna continued. “The delay will be a mixed blessing. There will be extra risk and temptation. But it gives us time to plan for the successful conclusion of our mission and Cal’s return.” She smiled sadly at Natasha. “But it’s only Cal’s return that is certain. I’m afraid you and I might still be required to give our lives.”
“I have never been frightened to die for the Goddess,” Natasha said firmly. And it was the truth. Killing for the Goddess was the thing that was starting to hurt.
Rohanna’s lips gently brushed Natasha’s forehead in a mother’s kiss. A lump rose in Natasha’s throat as their eyes met. They were sworn comrades, united in the service of the Goddess. Unlike the treacherous attraction to Dani, the love and trust between them was genuine and sanctified. She was determined to be worthy of it.
Chapter Ten—An Awkward Situation
Natasha rinsed out her porridge bowl and returned to the bench by the hearth. All around, the common room of the lodging block was emptying as women finished their breakfast and headed out to work. Before long, only Rohanna, Cal, and a couple of elderly residents remained. The older folk engaged in an unexciting conversation, mainly about the weather, that Natasha felt little desire to join. She was wondering how to excuse herself when the door opened and a young member of the Westernfort Rangers came in.
“Hi. Are you the new arrivals?” The woman must have known the answer and went on without pausing. “My name’s Shelly, and I’ve been assigned to show you around.”
“Right. We’ll just get our coats.” Rohanna spoke for the group.
Shelly was a solidly built young woman with a round face and a very earnest expression. It quickly became apparent that she was taking her responsibilities seriously and was determined to do a thorough job in pointing out absolutely everything. Rohanna and Cal clearly found it wearing and started to hang back, but Natasha was prepared to make a bit more effort for the company of someone her own age.
In daylight, Natasha was able to make a proper evaluation of Westernfort. The town was far more substantial than Natasha had expected, although a little rough by Homeland standards. None of the streets were paved, and the civic buildings lacked grandeur. On the other hand, there was nothing like the crumbling hovels that housed the poorest farm laborers in the Homelands. All the buildings were of solid stone construction, with slate-tiled roofs. The presence of flues showed that many had under-floor heating—something Natasha had already noticed in their lodgings. The building had apparently been built as a barracks but was now used as temporary accommodation for new arrivals.
The bathhouse was well designed and more than adequate for the size of the population. A range of shops and businesses provided all the normal facilities. The shouts of street vendors were identical to those in the Homelands. And what was I expecting? Natasha asked herself ironically. “Get your unholy potatoes here”? The only discrepancy that struck her was the absence of a chapel, but of course, it was hardly likely that the heretics would have one of those.
Outside the town, the valley was shaped in an unequal V, with the entrance at the bend. The longer arm looked to be a few kilometers in length, with a small lake lying a short way along. The flat bottom of the valley was farmland, currently covered with snow. Virtually the entire population had homes in the town. Only the most remote farms had separate homesteads. Natasha spotted no more than half a dozen in the distance. Forests of dark green pines made a solid band on the higher slopes; above them, sheer-sided mountains formed an almost complete ring. The only place the mountains failed was at the mouth.
Shelly concluded her tour at the fortification built across the entrance. At its broadest, the valley was over a kilometer in width, but here, it narrowed to a bare fifty meters. The stone wall was about eight meters high and three meters deep. Steps on the inside gave access to the top, where a crenulated parapet provided further protection for defenders.
From this vantage point, Natasha looked down on the flat plain outside the walls. As she had seen on their arrival, the valley emerged halfway up a massive cliff face. Livestock was kept below. The lowland was dotted with assorted herds and their barns. The only way up to Westernfort was the path that had been hacked out of the cliff—a route so narrow that even in daylight, Natasha was not sure it was wise to walk two abreast. To her mind, the defensive wall across the valley mouth seemed unnecessary, and she said as much to Shelly.
“We needed it when the Guards attacked five years ago,” Shelly said with feeling. “There must have been over a thousand of them camped down below.”
In Natasha’s opinion, this had to be an exaggeration. All the Guards in the Homelands numbered barely two thousand. Yet even if they’d sent every last one, it would be a completely wasted effort against the wall. The thought was uncomfortable.
“We knew they were coming, so we’d brought all the animals up here,” Shelly continued.
“That must have been fun.”
“Oh, it was. The sheep were okay on the path, but pigs can be awkward bastards. Anyway, the Guards couldn’t starve us out. So they just kept trying to storm the gates.”
Natasha leaned through one of the crenulations and looked down on the pathway. Anyone standing below would have been a sitting target for archers. “Isn’t there another
way into the valley?”
“There are two trails. We call one the back gate and one the side gate, but they’re only suitable for small scouting parties, and we’ve got them well protected. Other than that, it depends on how good you are at mountain climbing. You could always try coming over the top.” Shelly pointed to the nearest peak to illustrate her point.
Cal and Rohanna had already left the top of the wall and were huddled at the base, out of the wind. Natasha followed them down, but rather than join them, she wandered to the entrance, followed by Shelly. The gates were made of heavy timber, reinforced by iron bars, and even if enough Guards had made it that far, the space on the path outside was not sufficient to maneuver a battering ram large enough to have any effect.
“Couldn’t they see it would be impossible to force a way through here?” Natasha voiced her thoughts aloud.
“I know what you mean. I thought they would give up after the first day, when they saw how many women they lost. But they kept on coming. I almost got bored with shooting them. I’d been in the Rangers for a couple of years. I’d just finished my probation. This was the first time I’d killed anyone. It wasn’t like I thought it would be. The Guards were...” Shelly’s sentence trailed away; her face held a deep frown. Then she shrugged. “Mind you, I don’t know what I was expecting.”
Which is not surprising, Natasha thought. Shelly struck her as someone who possessed limited imagination.
With Shelly beside her, Natasha stepped through the gateway. The wind was stronger and colder on the unprotected cliff face. She walked a few paces down the path and looked up at the outside of the wall, shielding her eyes from the small particles of ice whipped up by the gusts. Five years before, she had been a new recruit in the Militia, but if she had been two or three years older, she might easily have been in the force sent against Westernfort. She might have been killed on this very spot by the woman she was now talking to. She tried to nurse a desire for revenge, but it would not fix in her heart. Instead, she felt her anger grow at the officers who had ordered the attack. They might as well have commanded their women to dig a hole, stand in it, and slit their own throats. The outcome would have been the same, but there would have been less distance to carry the bodies for burial. They died not only heroically, but also senselessly.
The Walls of Westernfort Page 12