“Crowd wants blood,” one said, eyeing Maddy up and down.
“We have to make sure they don’t get it,” Wheeler said. “Robinson, go upstairs, second door on the left. Get the travel bag.” Robinson clunked up the stairs.
“Stand here,” Wheeler barked to Maddy and Jonathan, pointing to a spot on the floor. They did as they were told. The guardsmen formed up around them. “Is that it?” he asked Jonathan when Robinson returned and held up a bag. Jonathan nodded. “Then let’s deliver these two safely to the town hall.”
Acrid smoke filled Maddy’s nostrils the instant she left the inn, surrounded by guardsmen. She glimpsed one of the lines stretching from a nearby well; there were likely others. The fire burned up ahead, its glow lighting up the sky.
“There she is!”
The guardsman nearest Maddy bumped into her, then pushed away the man who’d lunged at them. Jonathan grasped her arm and pulled her closer to him. He wouldn’t be a match for the hostile mob, but he’d die trying to protect her. She forced herself to be brave and not shrink into him.
“Fraud!”
“Murderer!”
“Salbine curse you! Salbine curse you!”
“Out of the way! Move!” shouted the guardsmen in front, forcing their way past those blocking their path.
“Help with the fire!” Wheeler yelled.
They turned off the road before they reached the fire. Maddy realized with shock that they’d only moved to a point just past the inn, but the crowd seemed to be thinning, allowing them to move faster. A glance over her shoulder killed the hope that a glimpse of her would satisfy the curiosity of most. There weren’t many obstructing the guards in front, but behind them, the road was packed. The shouts had stopped, but she could sense the hostility seething through the crowd. Would they accept the magistrate’s ruling, or would the mob tear her apart when she left the town hall?
Maddy had no idea how much time had passed when the guardsmen finally escorted her into a large meeting room with observation balconies running around its perimeter. A guardsman pushed her down into a chair at the front and took the seat to her left. Jonathan was forced into the chair to her right. As townspeople poured into the room, she tried to calm herself, but the noise fed her anxiety. The seats behind Maddy quickly filled; soon the balconies were crowded to bursting, as well. Everywhere she looked, people were staring, pointing, sneering.
She didn’t look behind her when a loud commotion erupted near the doorway, the result of the guardsmen turning away a group of newcomers. Every seat was taken, and the balconies would collapse if more squeezed onto them. They were all here to see the fraud, the one with the audacity to impersonate a Salbine Sister. Based on overheard snatches of conversation, that seemed to be the prevailing view.
A robed man entered the room through a side entrance at the front and stopped just inside the doorway. A ripple of excitement ran through the assembly. Wheeler emerged from the same doorway and set two rolled documents on the desk at the front of the room—their Salbine documents, Maddy suspected. He stood to the right of the desk, stepped forward, and smartly saluted. “His Grace, Lord Jameson Hayes Collin Maxwell Langston the Fourth, of Garryglen,” he intoned.
The robed man, presumably the magistrate, strode to the desk and surveyed those gathered. He reeked of power and self-importance. Maddy glanced at Jonathan, saw the resignation in his eyes. The magistrate knew the people wanted a show, and he’d give it to them, while basking in the attention. Langston raised his hand with a flourish, signalling for silence. The multitude of voices slowly faded to the odd cough and clearing of a throat. With a satisfied nod, Langston pulled the chair from under the desk and carefully lowered himself into it, then lifted the bell sitting on the desk and rang it. “This meeting is now in session. I understand that I’m here to determine whether we have a brazen imposter in our midst. Captain Wheeler, if you’d be so kind as to describe the events that took place earlier this evening.”
Wheeler cleared his throat. “A fire broke out in the lower southwest quarter. Swordsman Park and myself were in the area and went to help on the lines. When we arrived, a rowdy crowd was gathered outside The Traveller’s Rest. We were told that a Salbine Sister was inside, but refused to help battle the fire. We pushed our way inside and found her surrounded by more townsfolk. We ordered everyone but the sister and her companion to leave and asked why she wouldn’t help us. She claims she can’t draw the elements.”
Catcalls and shouts filled the air. “Who ever heard of a sister who can’t draw the elements?”
“Liar!”
“Fraud!”
Maddy stared straight ahead, cursing her hot face.
Langston rang the bell. “Silence!” When several still shouted, he rang the bell again, and continued to ring it until they’d simmered down. He turned to Wheeler. “You questioned her. You were at the inn. What do you think?”
“Before I answer, you should know that we’ve managed to get the fire under control, but not before it spread to a neighbouring shop. A man has also perished in the flames.”
“Yeah, my Frank!” Evelyn shouted from behind Maddy. “So either she murdered him, or she’s a lying, thieving bitch, posing as a sister so she can fill her pockets.”
“Now, now, murder is a bit strong, um, Madam,” Langston said.
“She stood by and did nothing while my Frank burned. Maybe that’s not murder to you, but she murdered him as sure as if she’d set him on fire herself.”
“Which she didn’t do, because apparently she can’t draw the elements,” Langston said, to raucous laughter. Clearly pleased with himself, he turned his attention back to Wheeler. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Wheeler shifted his weight. “I believe she’s an imposter, My Lord. I’ve never met a sister who can’t draw the elements, and I find it hard to believe that someone in Salbine’s service could be so devoid of morality and humanity that she wouldn’t at least try to save a man’s life. She must be an imposter.”
Langston grunted. “You said she and her companion carried documents?”
“Yes, My Lord.” Wheeler picked up the two documents and set them down directly in front of Langston. Langston unrolled one and read it, then did the same with the other. He slid open a desk drawer and rummaged inside it. “Hold it flat for me, will you?” he said to Wheeler as he pulled out a magnifying glass. The spectators fidgeted as he bent over and examined each document in turn, moving the magnifying glass slowly from one side to the other. “The seals look authentic,” he said to Wheeler. “But someone brazen enough to pose as a sister would know where to find a good forger, no doubt. And I don’t see any mention of the sister’s inability to draw the elements.”
He moved the documents away and returned the magnifying glass to the drawer. “So, we’re apparently in the presence of one Sister Maddy and the Defender Jonathan. Would the sister rise?”
Maddy swallowed and stood.
“Murderer!” Evelyn screamed over the whispers.
Langston looked past Maddy. “Sit down, Madam. If you can’t remain silent, I’ll have you removed.” His eyes settled on Maddy again. “Who are you?”
“I am Sister Maddy, of Merrin.”
The crowd erupted into boos and catcalls; those above banged on the balcony railings.
“Silence!” Langston shouted, ringing the bell, though it could hardly be heard over the din. “Silence!” He heaved a sigh and set the bell down. “Can you explain to us, Sister Maddy, why you refused to aid the townsfolk in putting out the fire?”
“Especially when a man was trapped inside, you cold-hearted cow!” Evelyn shrieked.
Langston winced and nodded to Wheeler, who in turn motioned to two guardsmen. “Oy!” Evelyn cried. “Get your hands off me!” Maddy didn’t look behind her, but could hear scuffling and banging. “I’ll be waiting for you outside, you murderer! Or is it fraud?” Evelyn’s voice grew more distant. “Giving false hope to those in need. You’ll get what’s coming
. . .”
“Remain at the door,” Langston said to the guardsmen when they returned. “We don’t want her back in here.” He shook his head. “Sister Maddy, explain yourself, please.”
“I would have helped, if I could. But I’m what’s called malflowed. I can’t draw the elements.”
The assembly rumbled in disbelief.
“I’ve never met a sister who can’t draw the elements,” Langston said, “and as part of my duties, I’ve met quite a few. I’ve also never heard mention of this . . . malflowed?”
“It’s rare. As far as we know, I’m the only malflowed sister alive.”
Langston raised his brows and glanced at Wheeler. “You may sit.” He waited for Maddy to take her seat. “When Captain Wheeler’s colleague informed me of the basic facts of this, uh, dispute, I sent for two women who might help us sort out this mess.” He cleared his throat. “Would Mrs. Dickerson come forward, please?”
Whispers mixed with the rustle of skirts and nervous coughs as the audience watched Mrs. Dickerson hobble forward, hunched over her cane. A gentleman in the front row stood and held her elbow as she lowered herself into his former chair.
“Mrs. Dickerson, you are the leader of the Salbine lay chapel here in Garryglen, correct?” Langston asked.
“Yes, My Lord,” she said in a quavering voice.
“How many years have you served as leader?”
Dickerson had to think about it. “Almost forty, My Lord.”
“Forty. I’d imagine you’ve hosted many sisters during that time.”
“Yes, My Lord. When sisters pass through town, they often visit our chapel to pray, since we don’t have a monastery here. Oh, we’ve asked for one. I’ve lost track of how many letters I’ve sent over the years. Linbrock’s half our size, but it has one. Our girls have to—”
“If we could focus on the matter at hand, Mrs. Dickerson.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Dickerson said with a sigh.
“Have you met any sisters who couldn’t draw the elements?”
Dickerson snickered. “No, My Lord.”
“And have any sisters ever mentioned others who couldn’t draw the elements, or this, uh, malflowed condition?”
“No, My Lord.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dickerson. I see that Mr. Smithson took your former seat, so you can remain where you are. I’d now like to ask Miss Clarke to come forward.” A woman who looked to be in her late teens strode to the front. “Miss Clarke, you recently spent several months at the Linbrock monastery, correct?”
“Yes, My Lord. I entered the monastery as a novice, but decided not to take my vows.”
“You’ve heard the proceedings so far?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“What are your thoughts on the matter?”
“I believe she’s a fraud, My Lord.”
A few claps accompanied the murmurs of agreement.
“Why do you believe that, Miss Clarke?”
Clarke sneered. “While she certainly looks the part with her robe and marked hands, I can’t believe that a sister would refuse to save a man’s life. I’ve also never heard of this condition she claims to suffer from, nor did anyone ever mention it at Linbrock.”
Langston leaned forward. “Can you draw the elements, Miss Clarke?”
“No. Only those who take their vows are taught, and not right away. But the novices talked about drawing the elements all the time. Everyone looked forward to their training. After all, that’s when they’d start down the path to becoming true sisters.”
Maddy bitterly remembered those conversations—everyone wondering how it would feel to draw; everyone marvelling that Salbine had called them to receive Her gifts.
“Perhaps this sister hasn’t learned to draw the elements yet,” Langston said.
Clarke shook her head. “If so, she would have said, instead of making up some cockamamie story. And not only was I a novice for a little while, but one of my great-aunts lived and died a sister. Sisters aren’t allowed to travel until they’re skilled at drawing the elements.”
Langston stroked his chin. “Thank you, Miss Clarke. You may go.”
She curtsied and returned to her seat.
“What do you have to say for yourself now?” Langston asked Maddy, his mind apparently made up, since he no longer addressed her as sister.
Maddy suspected that whatever she said from this point forward would fall on deaf ears, but she stood and collected her thoughts. All she could do was speak the truth. “As I said before, my condition is rare. Even the sisters at my own monastery were unaware of it until I started my training.” And failed. “Miss Clarke was correct when she said that sisters must become adepts before they can travel, but that’s because they can then defend themselves. I’ll never be able to defend myself using the elements. That’s why the abbess at Merrin made an exception in my case. We’re going to the monastery at Heath, to study materials left behind by another malflowed sister.”
“‘We’ meaning you and your companion?”
“Yes. Defender Jonathan.”
“Or perhaps your lover.”
“That’s preposterous!” Jonathan shouted, leaping to his feet. “How dare you insult the sister in that manner! I am the Defender, Jonathan, pledged to protect the Salbine Sisters with my life.”
“Sit down!” Langston barked. Two guardsmen approached and pushed Jonathan down onto his chair.
Langston leaned back and folded his arms. “My, the two of you put on a good act.”
“This isn’t an act!” Maddy cried. “What about our documents?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if the real Sister Maddy and the Defender Jonathan met with an unfortunate accident. You had to get the robe and documents somewhere, and anyone could have marked your hands.”
Maddy was struck speechless. He actually believed she and Jonathan had murdered!
“And the documents make no mention of any condition, which isn’t surprising. You say you’re a sister, but you can’t draw the elements. As Miss Clarke said, drawing the elements is what makes one a sister.”
“I can’t draw the elements, but I am still a sister,” Maddy said. “I took my vows. I serve Salbine. I am a Salbine Sister.” But she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice, and so would everyone else. How could she convince them of something she herself doubted?
“No,” Langston said, shaking his head. “You can either draw the elements, or you’re a fraud. I don’t believe this condition you speak of exists. I think you’re a fraud, that you make promises in Salbine’s name in exchange for food and goods. Though I suppose there’s an off chance that you can draw the elements, but you are a miserable human being. Perhaps you thought denying aid would go unchallenged. But we’re decent folk, here in Garryglen. We help each other, and we don’t take kindly to those who turn their backs on people in need.” He had to pause when the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. “I bet you’re not used to being challenged, sister or no. Otherwise you might have had a better story prepared to explain your wickedness, whether that be turning your back or stealing in Salbine’s name.” He pointed to the floor in front of his desk. “Stand there.”
When Maddy hesitated, the guardsman next to her grasped her arm and pulled her forward, to the delight of the assembly. She stood before Langston, exposed and humiliated.
“We’ll settle this now,” Langston said. “Captain, put out one of those torches and bring it here.”
Wheeler used a snuffer to extinguish a nearby torch, slid it from its sconce, and returned to his place at the side of the desk.
“Good.” Langston gazed at Maddy, his face grim. “Now, you’re going to light that torch from over there. If you succeed, then you are a disgrace to your Order, but unfortunately you didn’t commit a crime. In that case, my guardsmen will escort you and your companion from Garryglen and you’d be wise to never set foot here again. I shall also write a letter to your abbess, expressing my shock and disappointment that someone as callou
s as you was accepted into the Salbine Order, and suggesting that she reconsider sheltering one of such heinous character.” His eyes narrowed. “If you don’t light the torch, then you are a wicked, wicked woman, using Salbine’s name to steal from those who don’t have anything to spare. You are despicable, have sunk as low as a human being can sink, and I will make an example of you. If you don’t light that torch, you will hang.”
The assembly roared; shouts and jeers assaulted Maddy’s ears and shook the floor under her feet. Those above her pounded on the balcony railings and called for her execution.
“Silence!” Langston shouted, his bell swaying from side to side but drowned out by the ruckus. “Silence!”
Maddy dared not glance over her shoulder at Jonathan. He’d hang too, no doubt; both their lives depended on her lighting that torch.
Langston’s face shone with triumph. He swept his arm toward the torch. “If you would.” His words evoked an epidemic of coughs and shuffling. Then the room fell into an unnatural stillness fraught with tension.
Maddy eyed the torch. She hadn’t tried to draw the elements since that terrible episode in the training room. The abbess had said the elements would be closed to her, but how could she be certain? They knew so little about the malflowed condition. If you try to draw and an element does flow, it would be dangerous for you, Maddy. But if she didn’t try, they’d hang her, and probably Jonathan. Could this be a test of faith? Had Salbine deliberately brought her to this point? If Maddy trusted Her and tried to draw, would She bestow Her gifts?
Maddy lowered her head and ignored the titters from those who presumed she was play-acting. Salbine, I don’t know why You’ve denied me Your gifts. Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps You never called me, yet I entered Your home and robed myself. If I die now, I’ll never know what I did to offend You, never be able to make amends. I want to continue my journey in Your realm, Salbine, not in the realm of the godless. Please, let me draw, just this once. You know I am innocent. Please help me. Please, Salbine. Help me.
She raised her head, drew a deep breath, and reached inside herself. To her surprise, she sensed fire—the elements weren’t closed to her! She beckoned to it, reached for it, touched—pain! The most intense pain she’d ever felt ripped through her, driving her to her knees. She doubled over, hugged herself. “Salbine,” she gasped, “Salbine, have mercy.” Then every inch of her body was on fire, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Maddy threw back her head and opened her mouth to scream.
The Salbine Sisters Page 12
