Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3)

by Holder, Angela

  Nalini’s heart quickened. What did she have to lose? At the very least she’d be able to make a fresh start in Ramunna. This time she’d be careful not to screw up and get her discovery banned. She’d be able to use her techniques openly and earn the money and acclaim she longed for.

  And if by some miracle he wasn’t lying, and the Mother’s power really did still exist and would be in Ramunna soon, her future could be truly spectacular. Because he was right about how people would react. She knew enough of human nature to be sure of that. There would be fortune enough for both of them, and more.

  Still… “I don’t know. How long can I have to think about it?” It was a huge step, leaving her homeland. She hadn’t had contact with her family since she’d been exiled from the capital, but even so she hated the thought of a continent separating them. She spoke the language well enough to get by, but Ramunna had different customs, different laws, different traditions. Learning them would be difficult, intimidating, scary.

  Exciting.

  “Our ship sails in three days.” Ozor put a wheedling tone in his voice. “I hope you’ll be aboard.”

  Nalini gathered the bloody rags. She’d bandage Teried’s wound when he woke up and could sit. Carefully noncommittal, she said, “I’ll consider your offer.”

  “Good.” Ozor watched her for few minutes. She could almost see the ideas bubbling in his head like one of her potions over a flame.

  As Tereid stirred, Ozor leaned across his friend. “Tell me, Nalini. Do you know of any other healers who chafe under Giroda’s laws? Creative people like yourself who’ve developed effective healing techniques? I think there may be opportunity here for more than just the two of us.”

  Two

  High on the dais at the front of the temple, First Keeper Emirre Rothen put his hands on his son’s shoulders and turned him to face the assembled worshippers. His voice was rough with emotion. “I present to you Keeper Vigorre Rothen. As his first official act, Keeper Vigorre will lead us in the litany of devotion to the Mother.”

  Nirel swallowed and clenched her fists. All through the long ceremony she’d dreaded this moment. It was one thing to sit silently and listen to the blasphemous worship of the Lady of Mercy by Vigorre and his fellow Keepers. It was another thing to speak the forbidden words herself.

  But Elder Davon’s orders were clear and ruthless. She must break any Ordinance necessary to pursue a closer relationship with Vigorre. Even the first and most sacred, which commanded the Faithful to worship only the Lord of Justice and shun his weak and rebellious sister. That’s why she’d accepted Vigorre’s invitation to attend his ordination, when otherwise setting foot inside a temple of the Mother would have earned her severe penance. That’s why she hadn’t backed out, even when his detailed account of what would happen and what her participation would require included a description of this moment. She’d carefully memorized the parts of the litany the congregation was expected to recite. But until now she’d never actually said them out loud.

  Vigorre’s stepmother, Lady Nathenarre, smiled at Nirel and reached to squeeze her hand. She’d promised to prompt Nirel if she forgot any of the words. Vigorre and his family had accepted her isolated upbringing and the differing traditions in Tevenar as the explanation for why she was unfamiliar with the normal routine of Ramunna’s temple. But if she wanted them to continue to accept Vigorre’s interest in her and embrace her as a potential addition to the family, she had to demonstrate that she was doing her best to learn.

  Nirel smiled back, careful not to show the strain she felt. She fixed her eyes on Vigorre, splendid in his rich new robe of office, as he gazed over the congregation with a solemn, exalted expression. She knew how much this moment meant to him. His devotion to the Mother was profound and genuine, and this was the culmination of all his years of preparation to enter her service.

  His warm voice intoned the ceremonial words. “I praise you, Mother of all, for your gift of creation.”

  Nirel took a deep breath and forced out the response. “I worship you, Mother of all, and praise your holy name. I honor you, Mother of all…”

  She wouldn’t pray to the Lord of Justice for forgiveness. She was acting in obedience to his will, as expressed by Elder Davon. But it sickened her to speak the words of adulation for the false deity whose followers had caused her people so much misery.

  Finally the long litany was over. The Keepers brought the service to its conclusion. They ceremonially descended from the dais and paced down the long aisle to the exit. The last notes of the recessional hymn died away.

  Lady Nathenarre grabbed Nirel’s hand, beaming. “Come. We can stand with Vigorre while he receives everyone’s congratulations.”

  Nirel followed her out the grand front doors of the Temple. Behind them trailed the rest of Vigorre’s many older half-siblings and their families, and his younger half-siblings with their governess. Vigorre waited on the broad porch within the towering marble columns, his father next to him. As the worshippers streamed from the doors many of them stopped to offer their congratulations and make the sign of the Mother’s blessing over him.

  His eyes lit up when he spotted Nirel. “You came!”

  “Of course I did. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” She caught her breath as he enfolded her in a brief, fierce hug. If only they were in private, so she could wrap her arms around him and press her body close.

  But he released her as quickly as he’d embraced her, only a slight breathlessness betraying that the contact had affected him as much as Nirel. “I can hardly believe it. I’m finally a Keeper. Sometimes it seemed as if this day would never come. I’m so glad you’re here to share it with me.”

  The elderly First Keeper followed his son’s lead in giving Nirel a brief hug before pulling his young wife to his side. He beamed at Nirel. “We all praise the Mother for bringing you to Ramunna and giving us the chance to know you.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Nirel smiled at him, then averted her eyes. It still astonished her how open Vigorre’s family seemed to his interest in her and how seriously they took it. She wouldn’t even be fifteen until after Springtide. In Tevenar she wouldn’t be allowed to marry for at least five years, when she became a journeyman. But here in Ramunna it was common for women to marry at sixteen or seventeen. Vigorre’s father and stepmother seemed perfectly happy that he was courting a young foreigner who would be considered far beneath him socially if not for the Matriarch’s sponsorship.

  She stood at Vigorre’s side as he exchanged embraces with his siblings and nieces and nephews. After they moved off she concentrated on smiling and nodding to the rest of the long line of people who came to congratulate him. After a while his hand reached to clasp hers. She squeezed it in return, a thrill going through her at the warmth of his touch. He maintained the contact while he exchanged greetings with dozens of well-wishers.

  Abruptly he released her hand and went still. He nodded, carefully formal, at the next person in line. The man was dressed in the robe of a Keeper, but his was plain black, in contrast to the ornately embroidered robes Vigorre and his father wore. Vigorre extended his hand. “Keeper Yoran.”

  Nirel stiffened. This was Yoran Lirolla, leader of the Purifiers in Ramunna? She’d heard a great deal about him, both from Vigorre and from Elder Davon, but she’d never seen him before.

  Yoran clasped Vigorre’s offered hand. “Welcome to our number, Keeper Vigorre. It’s a privilege to serve beside one whose devotion to the Mother is so strong.”

  Vigorre inclined his head. “It will be my privilege to work with you and the other Keepers.”

  Yoran leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “Some of my colleagues have informed me that you’ve approached them with questions about Purifier doctrine. If you want to learn about our way of honoring the Mother, I’d be happy to meet with you and try to satisfy your curiosity. The Purifier path is austere and demanding compared to more conventional ways, but the rewards are immense.”

 
; Vigorre licked his lips and glanced at his father, who was observing the exchange with a carefully neutral expression. “I—might take you up on that offer. There are certain Purifier beliefs I find myself drawn to, but I need to know more before I make any binding decision.”

  Nirel gulped. If Vigorre chose to join the harsh, judgmental, intolerant Purifiers, it would be her fault. At Elder Davon’s bidding she’d told him a lie about Tevenar’s wizards that confirmed the worst of the Purifiers’ prejudices. She hated to think that Vigorre might feel compelled to ignore all the things he despised about the Purifiers in order to support them in their opposition to the wizards, but he seemed terribly likely to do just that. And she could never admit the truth to him. Not without betraying her commitment to the Lord of Justice and his Faithful.

  Yoran smiled and released Vigorre’s hand. “Contact me tomorrow and we can set up a time to meet. I’ll be delighted to—”

  He broke off as a commotion arose on the far side of the porch. People were staring out to sea and pointing. Excited voices rose, calling others to look. One voice sounded above the rest. “It’s the Verinna!”

  Nirel jerked around, her heart going cold. Beside her Vigorre matched her movement. His hand reached for hers. “It’s all right,” he murmured in her ear. “You have nothing to fear from the wizards. I’ll keep you safe.”

  He didn’t know the real reason the approach of the Matriarch’s ship set her trembling. She didn’t actually fear the wizards. But if Elder Davon’s plan had succeeded, no wizard would be aboard, and Ramunna and Tevenar would soon be plunged into war.

  Keeper Emirre turned to his wife. “The Matriarch will desire my presence when the ship docks. If it brings us wizards from across the sea, the Mother’s representative should be there to greet them.”

  Nirel knew Vigorre had passed along her false tale to his father, but if he harbored the doubts about the wizards her story had been designed to provoke, he gave no sign. He was reserved, though, not as enthusiastic as might be expected about the imminent return of powers that had been lost to Ramunna and all of Ravanetha for a thousand years.

  Nathenarre made a face. “They would choose to arrive now. I suppose Vigorre’s reception can be delayed a few hours.”

  Emirre turned to Vigorre. “Would you like to come with me?”

  Longing was plain on Vigorre’s face, but he shook his head. “Nirel can’t risk being seen.”

  “Of course. Take our carriage and escort her home. I expect her people will want to remain inconspicuous while the wizards are here.” He inclined his head to Nirel and extended an arm to Nathenarre. “Come, dear.”

  She took his arm and they swept down the broad stairs toward the road that led to the docks. Several other Keepers fell in with them.

  Vigorre turned to Yoran, who studied the approaching ship. “Excuse me, Keeper. I’ll be in touch to set up that meeting.”

  Yoran tore his eyes away from the ship for a moment. “Good. It’s more important now than ever.”

  Vigorre’s face was grim. “Yes.” He turned away and urged Nirel toward the doors of the Temple. “The carriage is waiting out back.”

  Nirel resisted. Elder Davon needed to know as soon as possible whether or not a wizard had arrived. “Wait. You’re right; I can’t let a wizard see me, but I need to find out if one’s come. Ozor will want to know.”

  He frowned but let her pull him toward the stairs. “Are you sure? It seems awfully risky. Let me take you home, and I’ll bring word as soon as I find out.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t wait that long. Is there somewhere we can watch the docks without being seen?”

  “Maybe the park. It will be packed with people trying to catch a glimpse of the wizards.” He was still reluctant, but she knew he must want to watch the ship dock almost as much as she did.

  “That sounds perfect. Come on.”

  The threaded their way hand in hand through the crowds surging toward the harbor. Vigorre’s Keeper robe received respectful deference when it was noticed. Nirel took advantage of it to win them a place against the railing that rimmed the park, at the top of a sharp rocky drop to the water. They had a clear view of the dock, but she’d be only one among a sea of faces to anyone on the ship.

  She leaned over the railing, straining to see. It was unmistakably the Verinna. Nirel had sailed across the ocean beside Captain Yosiv’s ship and was intimately familiar with its appearance. She sighed in frustration as she spotted a many-oared pilot boat going out to meet the vessel. She remembered how long it took the smaller boat to tow the great ship in to the dock. They might be stuck here for hours.

  But much sooner than that, as the ship drew gradually nearer and swung around to maneuver into its berth, she gasped and jerked back. “Smash it!”

  Vigorre’s arms went around her protectively. “What?”

  Nirel pressed against him. Of all the wizards in Tevenar, why did it have to be that one? She pointed at a cluster of people and animals standing in the bow of the ship. “Does that look like a donkey to you?”

  Vigorre peered across the water. “I guess so. Why?”

  Nirel bit back more curses. Beside the small grey donkey stood a lanky figure with a mop of curly brown hair. “It’s Josiah.”

  Vigorre tightened his arm around her shoulders, his voice warmly humorous. “You know the donkey?”

  Nirel shook her head impatiently. “Yes. His name is Sar, he’s a wizard’s familiar. He used to belong to Elkan. See that tall man with the long black hair? But now I think he’s Josiah’s. Or at least, I saw them doing magic together once. They tried to stop our ship when we were escaping.”

  Vigorre went rigid and still. His voice dropped to a whisper. “One of their demons.”

  Nirel swallowed and nodded. She hated the lie, but the Faithful’s hopes rested on Vigorre and the other Keepers believing it.

  Vigorre pointed, trembling in a way Nirel suspected was due more to anger than fear. “And that huge cat-thing? Is that another?”

  “Yes.” Tobi hadn’t been bonded to a wizard when Nirel had known her, but maybe that had changed. “It attacked me once.” That was true, although Josiah had assured her she’d never been in any danger. “I was lucky to escape.”

  Vigorre’s hand clamped around her wrist. “I’m getting you away from here.”

  “No, wait.” As the ship progressed, Nirel could see the cluster of figures more clearly. “Look, there’s Kevessa and her father.”

  Vigorre glowered at the ship. “Do you see any other wizards?”

  Nirel studied the ship for another long moment, then sighed. “No. I guess Guildmaster Dabiel only sent the two of them.”

  “Two of those foul creatures and their slaves are more than enough.” Vigorre drew on her arm more insistently. “Please, Nirel. They know you know their secret. We can’t risk them finding out you’re here.”

  Nirel let him pull her away from the railing and lead her back through the crowd. “No. They can’t ever know.” She let her voice shake. “Please, take me home.”

  Vigorre used all his new Keeper authority to clear a path through the throng, barking commands at anyone slow to get out of their way. As soon as he dropped her off in the village where the refugees from Tevenar made their home, she’d walk back to the city and go to the hidden shrine in the Dualist Quarter. Elder Davon wouldn’t like her report, but he needed to know his plan had failed. Wizards had returned to Ravanetha.

  Three

  Josiah wound his fingers in Sar’s mane and gaped at the huge city sprawling down the slopes that encircled the bay. Gevan and Kevessa had told him about Ramunna, but the reality surpassed his most extravagant attempt to picture what they’d described. It really was at least three times as big as Elathir. That must be the Matriarch’s palace off to the left, but the crag was far steeper and higher than Josiah had expected, and the castle at its peak larger and more elaborate. He’d harbored private skepticism that anyone would cover a whole dome in gold, even if i
t was a temple dedicated to worshipping the Mother. Yet there it was, just across the waves, shining brilliantly even in the weak late winter sun. And up at the top of the central hill the buildings of the University were as grand and numerous as Gevan had said. Josiah marveled at the thought of enough people to fill those spacious halls all busily engaged in learning and discovering new things. If they were all as smart as Gevan, it must be the most amazing place in the world.

  Kevessa grinned at him and nervously stroked Nina. The gray squirrel nestled in her arms and peered at the approaching shore. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “It’s incredible,” Josiah said with complete honesty. “Bet you’re glad to be home.”

  “Yes.” Kevessa’s agitated fingers belied her words.

  Vast numbers of people crowded the shore. The only clear spot was the dock itself, where a group of blue-clad men held back the onlookers from a cluster of richly dressed people. Kevessa pointed to the figure in their midst, a woman dressed in a voluminous skirt like Kevessa’s, though even more ornate. “The Matriarch.”

  “She’s not wasting any time.” Josiah tried to keep his voice light, but it was hard. Gevan had assured them that the Matriarch would agree to the bargain he’d made in her name and send shiploads of desperately needed food to Tevenar as soon as they could be loaded. But he’d also warned them that she could be capricious and cruel. Everything depended on them satisfying her that they actually possessed the healing powers that could cure her barrenness and help her conceive an heir to the Matriarchy of Ramunna.

  Kevessa lifted Nina and buried her face in the squirrel’s soft fur. “I hope whatever Master Elkan’s got planned pleases her.”