The Walls of Westernfort

by Jane Fletcher

  “After I’d buried my mother, I wandered around the town. I had nowhere to go. I ended up standing in front of the temple. I snapped. I screamed that I hoped all the Sisters and all the Guards would burn in hell forever, that the Goddess wasn’t worth pissing on, that Himoti was a fucking evil bitch...and so on. Every blasphemous thing I could think of. Then the Guards came after me, and I ran away. If they’d caught me, I guess I’d have joined the rest of my family, but there was a heretic in town who got to me before the Guards. She hid me for a while, and when things had calmed down, she sent me on to Westernfort.

  “And that’s the end of the story. And that’s why I hate Guards.” The pain had burned out of Dani’s voice, leaving only a desolate loss.

  Natasha leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. At least it answers the question of whether she’d still want me if she knew I’m a Guard, Natasha thought bitterly. There was no point saying that it had all been Dani’s parents’ fault. She was not sure she fully believed it herself. Certainly, Dani had been a completely innocent casualty in the affair. Yet the Guards had also been blameless. They had only been obeying orders, and there was no point telling Dani that the Guard who had laughed was probably doing it to mask her nerves.

  “The Guards were just doing what the Sisters said,” Natasha tried to say.

  “No. The Guards enjoyed doing it. I saw them,” Dani said firmly. “And if it weren’t for the Guards, it wouldn’t matter what the Sisters say. It was the Guards who used the knife on my sister. It was the Guards who put the noose around my birth mother’s neck. It was the Guards who stopped a healer from coming to help my gene mother. And they laughed.

  “One of these days, I’m going to kill three: one for my gene mother, one for my birth mother, and one for my sister. I was so frustrated when the Guards attacked Westernfort. Most of the time I was stuck with Lynn and the other healers. The few occasions I got to stand on the wall, the Guards all stayed in camp. I’m a lousy archer, but by all accounts, you couldn’t miss them when they tried storming the gates.”

  Dani stood up, dusted herself down, and glared around the clearing. “Anyway, I think we’re finished here. The fires are done. Let’s get back.”

  They walked through the trees in silence. Natasha tried to think of something to say, and failed.

  Dawn was breaking on the eastern horizon when they reached the outskirts of town. The shutters on windows were opening, and people were starting to emerge. Westernfort was waking to a new day. Natasha yawned, grateful for Lynn’s generosity in expressing no more than a vague hope that Natasha might put in an appearance at the barn sometime that day.

  During the walk, Dani had recovered at least a veneer of cheerfulness. She sighed. “Well, from past experience, you’ve got three choices. You can go home filthy and have your bed reek of smoke for days. You can go to the bathhouse and wash in ice-cold water. Or you can wait an hour until the fires are going and have a hot bath.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “I’m afraid smelly sheets win out every time.”

  Dani tried to smile, but Natasha could see that the attempt at humor was a weak cover. She wanted to put her arms around Dani and hug her, offering whatever comfort she could. But she wouldn’t want it from a Guard, she told herself. The knowledge hurt.

  They stood shuffling their feet and making offhand jokes, but their tiredness was growing. Natasha went back to her loft. And what would I have done, had I been ordered to kill a child? As sleep overtook her, Natasha was grateful that it was one question she would not have to answer.

  Chapter Fourteen—The Will of the Goddess

  The first of March was an unseasonably warm day. Small puffy clouds dotted the sky. The light wind carried the scent of returning life. With her eyes closed, it was easy for Natasha to imagine that summer had arrived—as long as she was not standing under the drips from melting icicles. The snow had cleared from the main square; however, the ground was wet, so a waterproof sheet had been laid out in the middle. Virtually the entire population was gathered around the edge. Lynn was taking advantage of the weather to perform an imprinting in the open air.

  As a Temple Guard, Natasha had often done duty in the imprinting chapels. She was curious to see how the heretics arranged things. There were no altar, no incense burners, and, of course, no Sisters singing hymns. Natasha’s lips twitched. She for one would not miss the droning. But despite the improved setting, she was not intending to hang around for long. Doubtless, most of the audience would also drift away, so her departure would not attract attention. Natasha had witnessed enough imprintings to know that as a form of entertainment, it could appeal only to the most besotted prospective grandmothers.

  In the temple, the mother-to-be lay on an altar with her partner kneeling by her side. The Imprinter would place her hands on them both and go into a trance for up to six hours. During this time, the attending Sisters would burn sticks of incense and sing monotonous hymns, and everyone else would reach a state of near-terminal boredom. Natasha had known that she was in the presence of life’s most sacred mystery but had preferred doing sentry duty outside the gates, where she was watching people who moved.

  Natasha looked around at the assembled women and wondered how soon she would be able to make an inconspicuous departure. Anyway, she told herself, no matter how long I end up waiting here, it can’t be as tedious as the temple. For one thing, she did not have to stand rigidly at attention, and second, Dani was beside her.

  “Does Lynn often imprint in the square?” Natasha asked, leaning her head over.

  “She always does. It’s sort of become a tradition.”

  “Doesn’t she get cold? I mean, it’s okay now, but suppose it clouds over?”

  “Oh, she’ll be finished in under half an hour,” Dani replied breezily.

  “But...” Natasha stopped herself. She did not want to reveal just how familiar she was with the temple ceremony. Most women her age would have witnessed no more than two or three, but questions seethed in her mind. Imprinting never took less than two hours. Was Lynn really so exceptionally talented?

  While Natasha had worked with her, Lynn had made various remarks about her life in the Homelands. She had spoken of the temple as a prison, the Sisters as jailers, and Imprinters as little better than slaves. Natasha had always been confused by this attitude. The temple existed to protect Imprinters from the impurity of the world so that their spirits might be freed to become conduits for the Goddess’s gift of souls. The rules and rituals were designed to maximize an Imprinter’s talent. Outside the holy walls of the temple, it should have been impossible for Lynn to imprint. At the very least, her ability should have been severely damaged. And it was not as though Lynn, with both a lover and children, was voluntarily keeping herself shielded from worldly contamination.

  As she stood there, Natasha was struck by the thought that Lynn might have more insight into how to conduct imprinting than the Sisters did. But she did not have long to reflect on the heretical idea, because at that moment, there was a stir as Kim and Lynn appeared at the door of their house. Natasha watched Lynn walk into the center of the square alone and beckon the young couple over to join her. She talked to them quietly; then the three sat down and held hands in a circle. Natasha was stunned—even shocked. This was life’s greatest mystery, and the heretics were treating it like a picnic. By every teaching of the Sisterhood, the informality was an insult to the Goddess. But...

  Natasha raised her eyes to the blue sky. The Book of the Elder-Ones claimed that Celaeno, the physical manifestation of the Goddess, was quite literally hanging over their heads. If Celaeno disapproved, why did she not strike them down? Lynn was certainly not hiding from her sight.

  Natasha looked back to the three women in the center of the square. She knew that unlike the Sisters, Lynn would accept no money for imprinting, sharing the Goddess’s gift as freely as it had been given to her. Lynn herself might not express it in that way, but Natasha was suddenly q
uite sure that the Goddess would approve. She knew Lynn was not evil.

  *

  Rohanna was sitting by the cooking fire in the common room when Natasha knelt at her side and whispered, “Can I talk to you?”

  After only one quick look at Natasha’s face, Rohanna stood and beckoned her along to their room. Fortunately, Cal did not follow. Natasha knew she was going to find the conversation difficult enough without Cal’s presence. The ex-Ranger disapproved of Natasha’s friendship with Dani and the amount of time she spent in the tavern. The relationship between them was still professional, but not as warm as it had once been. Rohanna was far more understanding, treating Natasha with something close to maternal indulgence.

  “What is it?” Rohanna asked quietly once they were in their room.

  Natasha swallowed. “Today. In the square. The imprinting...”

  “You were outraged by the sacrilege?”

  “No. That’s just it. I wasn’t. I think Lynn’s misguided, but her heart’s in the right place. She—”

  Rohanna cut her off, but her voice was still gentle. “No. Her heart is not in the right place. The heart of an Imprinter should be with the Goddess who chose her.”

  Natasha struggled to find words. “Yes...but...I think Lynn’s heart is with the Goddess, but she doesn’t know it. She’s got some wrong ideas, but she isn’t evil. I know she isn’t.”

  “How can a woman stand against the Goddess and not be evil?”

  “If the Goddess is angry with her, surely Lynn wouldn’t still be an Imprinter. And I wondered if...maybe the Chief Consultant was wrong, ordering us to kill Lynn. Perhaps she hasn’t interpreted the will of the Goddess correctly. In fact, I’m sure she’s made a mistake—”

  Rohanna drew a sharp breath and placed her hand over Natasha’s mouth to silence the disjointed mumbling. Her expression was hard to read—possibly shock, possibly anger. I went too far, Natasha thought, surprised by her own words. It was not quite what she had intended. A junior Guard had no right questioning the commands of the Chief Consultant. If she had said the same to a senior officer in Landfall, she would have been in line for a court-martial. Rohanna did not have that option open to her, although Natasha’s supposed age was not so very old for a mother to take a belt to her.

  Instead, Rohanna wrapped her arms around Natasha and hugged her tightly.

  “It’s hard. I know,” Rohanna whispered. “But you must be strong for a little while longer.” She pulled back so that their eyes met. “I’ve been impressed with you. It’s easy to follow the will of the Goddess when you’re surrounded by the faithful, but so much harder when you’re in the midst of heretics. There are many experienced intelligence agents who wouldn’t have withstood the ordeal so well. I know Cal criticizes you for associating with the other youngsters, but you have to. You must act like one of them, though it makes your task harder. Cal and I have been able to support each other, but you’ve been isolated. Yet your faith has not weakened. I can tell.”

  Gently, Rohanna stroked the hair back from Natasha’s face. One corner of her mouth pulled up. “If I’d ever had a daughter, I’d have wanted her to be like you.”

  Natasha’s eyes were filling. She was too choked to speak.

  Rohanna went on. “I should have been more support to you. I should have shared my experience. Come...this is a trick I use. Close your eyes.” As she did so, Natasha felt tears squeezing out. “You cannot go to the temple to pray, but you can rebuild the temple in your mind. Imagine you’re in the temple at Landfall; imagine the peace, the stillness. Now stand before the main altar, and look at Himoti’s sacred flame. If you calm your thoughts, you’ll see it. Himoti’s fire burns in the heart of every Guard. From it, you can draw the strength you need.”

  Natasha worked to bring the vision to her mind, and slowly, her confusion faded. She remembered the night she accepted the mission, kneeling before the altar, and the oath she had sworn. I promise, Celaeno, I will destroy your enemies. My life is yours to do with as you will. Make me strong in your love that I may triumph for your sake, and if I turn aside from this task, may I be damned forever.

  “We are fighting for the glory of the Goddess. Will you fail?” Rohanna asked softly.

  Natasha spoke with her eyes still closed. “No.”

  *

  Early the next morning, Kim was sitting with Mirle and a huge pile of paper: stock lists and forecasts. Spring was arriving, and they had to put the finishing touches on their plans for the coming year. The people at Ginasberg were going to need help if they were to be freed to work on their defenses. They could not build walls and plow fields at the same time. Fortunately, Westernfort had resources to spare; it was simply a question of making the best use of them.

  “Perhaps I should visit Ginasberg and see the situation for myself,” Kim said.

  “That might be a good idea. You could—” Mirle was interrupted by the door opening.

  From Lynn’s expression, it was obvious that she was both confused and worried. Kim half stood in alarm. “What’s happened?”

  “Oh, it’s...” Lynn waved her hands. Confusion was winning. The situation was clearly not an emergency requiring immediate action. She plonked herself down at the table, cupping her chin in her hand, while the lines in her forehead deepened. “There’s been a slight accident...nothing serious. A cartload of brick slipped. The only casualty was Cal Rowse, who sprained her ankle. I was nearby, so I did my bit as a healer, and took the opportunity to check her DNA.”

  “And is she related to Chip?” Kim asked.

  “No.” Lynn paused. “She’s not related to Jess, either.”

  “What!” Kim exclaimed, startled. “But...she’s her gene mother.”

  “No, she isn’t.”

  The three women sat around the table, all looking equally baffled. At last, Mirle frowned and asked, “So what does it mean?”

  Kim sighed. “It means that Jules was right all along. They’re a gang of thieves.”

  “No. I’m sure that Jess isn’t.” Lynn spoke up.

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense. They’ve been so well behaved, I’d just about convinced myself that they’re on the level. I was going to tell Ash she could stop watching them. But they’re after something. I’d guess that Jess is a youngster they’ve taken on as a sort of apprentice. Plus, she helps give the appearance of a family, which always seems more respectable. Although the Goddess alone knows how they managed to recruit either one of the Tangs or the Coppellis.”

  Lynn shook her head. “There has to be another explanation.”

  “Such as?”

  “How about...Jess’ family is very rich. When she was a baby, Cal and Rohanna kidnapped her. They were going to demand a ransom, but Jess awoke all their maternal feelings, so they kept her instead. And they’ve never told her anything about it.”

  “It’s not very likely. I think Chip would have heard if one of her cousins had been kidnapped. And it would still mean we have a pair of criminals on our hands.” Kim combed her fingers back through her hair. “But at least it clears up one thing that’s bothered me. I’ve never thought Cal looked old enough to be Jess’ mother. I know she claims to be over forty, but in that case, she’s wearing well.”

  “And Jess appears a shade on the old side for eighteen,” Mirle added.

  “I don’t like it...putting it mildly,” Kim said.

  “What are you going to do?” Mirle’s thoughts, as ever, had turned to the practical.

  “I could have them arrested, tied up, and dumped back on the borders of the Homelands.”

  “On what grounds?” Lynn asked.

  “They’ve lied. What else do I need?” Kim stood and paced the length of the room. “But I wish I knew what their game was. What are they hoping to steal?” She stopped and stared at the ceiling. “I’m going to get Ash to be a bit more assertive. Perhaps if we prod them, they’ll run.”

  *

  The three Guards bid everyone in the common room good night and w
alked along the passage. The day had been a trial, and Cal was limping heavily. Natasha held the lamp high to light the way, and Rohanna made a show of fussing excessively. Cal would be all right. The wrench had been nasty, but Lynn was more than competent as a healer. In a day or so, Cal’s ankle would be fully recovered.

  Natasha led the way into the room and was about to hang the lamp on its hook before heading for the ladder when a sharp gesture from Rohanna stopped her dead. The intelligence agent was studying the room intently; her hands indicated that Cal and Natasha should not move.

  “Someone’s been here?” Cal mouthed.

  Rohanna nodded. She began to step around the room carefully. “How’s your ankle doing, my love?” she asked in loud, affectionate tones, but her eyes were on the steps of the ladder.

  “A bit stiff, but it’ll be okay.” Cal went along with the charade.

  “You’ve got to be more careful in the future.” Rohanna moved on to inspect the chest where their official belongings were kept.

  “Oh, don’t fuss. I’ll be fine.”

  Natasha watched the proceedings. She knew that Rohanna had left various markers around their room: faint chalk marks to show scuffs, and bristles held in hinges. It took five minutes for Rohanna to complete a thorough examination. Then she beckoned them into a huddle. “We’ve been searched,” she whispered.

  “You’re sure?” Natasha asked.

  “Oh, yes. It wasn’t someone innocently wandering in here by mistake. They’ve been through everything...” Rohanna paused. “Except for the one place they should have looked.” Her eyes traveled to the bed.

  “They didn’t find the stash?” Cal’s tone was more statement than question.

  “They checked the bed frame, but not well enough. It wasn’t opened.”