The picture started moving in the correct direction. Vigorre heard the hushed sounds of the assassin’s breathing. He sat back on his heels and stared up at a white scroll with embroidered black writing. The robed figure pushed through the draperies and sank to his knees beside the waiting man. He bowed his head and remained silent for several long moments.
At last he raised his head and put back his hood. Vigorre stiffened. “That’s Elder Davon.” He represented the Dualists on the rare occasions their public presence was tolerated.
“So his orders came from the very top,” Kevessa breathed. She pressed her lips together as Elder Davon spoke.
“Tharan, son of Redin, the Lord of Justice is greatly pleased with your obedience. He will shower blessings upon you and your family in return for your courageous service.”
Tharan bowed his head. “I’m honored he chose me for this task.”
“No one suspects you?”
“Professor Gevan suspects everyone, but he’s looking for Purifier agents, not Faithful. I’ve convinced him I’m not one of them.”
Davon smiled. “I doubt that was difficult.”
Tharan’s return smile was strained. “The Matriarch trusts me implicitly. For years I’ve falsified records to conceal her bribes and threats, her lies and corruption and assassinations, and never let slip the slightest hint.” His face wrinkled in distaste. “She’s sure I’ll serve her discreetly in this, too. This morning she informed me that if Professor Gevan fails to persuade any of the Lady’s servants to accompany him, her soldiers will seize one by force and keep him in chains during the return voyage. I’m to fabricate an account of a criminal act that justifies the arrest for the official record.” He shook his head with a violent jerk. “At least I’ll never have to tell that particular lie for her.”
“Remember, my son, you remain blameless for anything you do at my direction. Your obligation to obey me supersedes every lesser Ordinance. And I act in obedience to the highest Ordinances, for the good of all the Faithful.”
“I know, Elder. And yet…” He shuddered and looked down. “You’re sure there’s no other way? ‘If one among you raises his hand to another in malice and slays him, whether the victim be of the Faithful or the unbelievers, you must put him to death, for he has become an abomination to the Lord of Justice.’”
“I’m sure, my son.” Elder Davon’s voice was gentle. “I command you, in the Name of the Lord of Justice, to slay anyone you must in order to prevent a wizard from coming to Ramunna. If I err in interpreting the Ordinances, and the Lord judges my command a transgression, let the blame and the punishment fall on me, not you.”
Tharan nodded, though tension remained in his shoulders. “I understand, Elder. I’ll obey.”
“I know you will, my son.” Davon hesitated, then drew a small vial from inside his robes. “This is not a command, but an offer. You go among those who wield the power of the Lady of Mercy, the first Faithful in many generations to do so. If it invades your body, even I cannot take the blame from you, for the highest ordinance of all forbids it. The Lord of Justice will cast you from his presence for all eternity.” He extended the bottle. “If you choose, if there’s no other way to avoid them forcing their power on you, you may use this to escape. I absolve you and your family from the penalties for suicide.”
Tharan stared at the bottle for a long moment before he swallowed hard and reached to take it. “Thank you, Elder,” he whispered.
Tears in his eyes, Davon put his hands on Tharan’s shoulders in the Dualist sign of blessing. Then he pulled the man into a rough embrace. “Your sacrifice will win for the Faithful a land of our own, the fulfillment of centuries of patient waiting. The Lord of Justice will reward you richly. In this life, or if need be, the life to come. I promise.”
Tharan nodded against his shoulder and tucked the vial into a pocket. When Davon released him, he wrapped his arms around his torso for a moment, then rose, bowed to Davon, and slipped out between the hanging tapestries.
The sphere over Kevessa’s hand faded. She stared at Vigorre. “That’s proof.”
Vigorre swallowed to dispel the nausea twisting his stomach. “I knew the Dualists were ruthless, but…”
“I know.” Kevessa stroked Nina hard, then shook herself. “But Tharan failed,” she said, her voice firming. “Even though he murdered Master Dabiel and Buttons, his mission failed. Wizards came here anyway.”
“Yes.” Vigorre swallowed again. Perhaps it would have been better if Tharan had succeeded. Yet he hated the thought that the Dualist’s Mother-forsaken evil could be aligned in any way with the goals he’d sworn to uphold. “I wonder what Davon did when he found out.”
Kevessa stared at him. “Made a new plan. What else? You heard him. He wouldn’t just give up.”
“No.” Vigorre clenched his fists. “You should open more windows. Trace him from then to now. See what else he’s done, who else he’s sent against the—against us.”
Kevessa gave him a half-smile, momentarily distracted. “You are one of us, you know. It’s only a matter of time until the Mother sends you a familiar.” She scratched behind Nina’s ears; the squirrel leaned into her touch. “Maybe Tharanirre, maybe someone else. I think Master Elkan’s surprised she hasn’t already.”
Thank the Mother the eagle spent most of its time in Master Elkan’s quarters or flying free. On the few occasions she’d swooped into the square and perched to observe the wizards working, Vigorre had felt her unblinking stare on him the whole time. He shrugged, praying Kevessa wouldn’t notice anything odd in his face or voice. “If that’s her will, I’ll be honored.” He pointed to her hand. “Go on, open a window and follow Elder Davon. We have to go on and get Nirel, but you can keep looking while we drive, and on the way back through as well.”
Kevessa had a window open before he finished speaking. “And I can ride with you every morning and afternoon from now on, until we’ve seen everything he’s done for the past year.” She frowned at Vigorre. “Why haven’t we done that with Yoran Lirolla? He’s bound to have more trouble brewing for us.”
Vigorre fought not to betray the fear that swept him at her words. “Elkan hasn’t wanted to spend time and energy on anything but healing people.”
She wrinkled her nose. “We’ve caught up with the worst now. I think it would be worth a little quick scanning at least. I’ll mention it to Master Elkan when we get back.” With a nod, she bent closer to the window and fixed her eyes on the image of Davon as he scurried through rapidly passing hours.
Vigorre leaned out the window and instructed the coachman to proceed to Nirel’s house, frantically trying to think of a way to dissuade her from her plan. He couldn’t; it made sense for the wizards to get as much information about their enemies as they could. He’d have to warn Keeper Yoran that his true loyalty couldn’t remain a secret much longer. Whatever trap Yoran intended him to bait the wizards into would have to be sprung before they had the chance to observe the vows he’d taken Firstday morning.
Kevessa found nothing significant before the carriage left the Dualist Quarter and passed out of range. She silently fumed until Vigorre started asking questions about her voyage to Tevenar. She gave him a far more detailed account than he’d yet heard about the events that followed the Ramunnans’ arrival in Elathir.
When Nirel climbed into the carriage she greeted Kevessa with pleased surprise. As soon as the carriage was moving again Kevessa told her about Tharan, what they’d seen, and their plan to continue observing Elder Davon.
Nirel stared at her. “Of course,” she said faintly. “Who knows what else he’ll try.”
Kevessa put out her hand, concentrated a moment, then gave up with a scowl. “Still out of range. This is going to take forever if I can only observe him for a few minutes each day while we drive through the Quarter. I’ve only managed to get through a week after Tharan’s departure so far. I have to keep stopping and listening to anything that seems suspicious.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Maybe I should start in the present and work backwards. What’s really important is what he might be planning to spring on us now.”
“No!” Nirel protested. Vigorre looked at her curiously. He could tell she was trying hard to appear composed, but her body against his was tense, and her voice was far more agitated than the situation seemed to warrant.
“I mean,” Nirel continued, staring down at her hands folded in her lap, “there’s nothing the—the Dualists can do to us now, is there? It would be a waste to spend so much time and energy looking for something we’ll probably never find. I bet Master Elkan would say that it was against the Mother’s will. In fact”—her voice sharpened, and she looked earnestly at Kevessa—“isn’t this kind of random searching forbidden in the Law? I was reading it the other day—Master Elkan loaned Vigorre his copy, and I was, um, curious—” At Kevessa’s encouraging nod she hurried on. “Anyway, I noticed that section particularly. Because of what happened when I first met Master Elkan and Josiah. They came to our farm—remember I told you about how they healed my baby sister? They both kept trying to get me or my mother to accuse my father of hurting us, and ask them to investigate. Because the Law didn’t allow them to go looking just because they were suspicious. Only if one of us asked for their help.”
Kevessa frowned. “I know the section of the Law you’re talking about. But it wouldn’t apply here, would it? We discovered Elder Davon’s involvement by tracing Tharan. I witnessed him commit a crime. Seeing Davon ordering Tharan to kill should be all the evidence we need to justify a complete investigation. Don’t you think so, Vigorre?”
He hadn’t been thinking about such issues when he read the Law, but from what he remembered he thought Kevessa was probably right. Nirel must be protecting him. She’d realized that if Kevessa kept prying into the past she’d eventually trace Keeper Yoran and discover Vigorre’s secret. Thank the Mother she’d come up with a plausible objection How clever to turn the wizards’ own holy writings against them.
He pretended to give the matter careful thought. “I’m not sure. The Law is very specific that using windows to search for crimes without sufficient reason is an abuse of the Mother’s power. Maybe this really does fall into that category.”
Kevessa bit her lip and stared at her familiar. “But Nina didn’t have any problem tracing Davon, even after Tharan left. Did you, Nina?”
The squirrel seemed to shrink under her scrutiny, trembling and pressing herself into Kevessa’s body. “Smash it, now you’ve got Nina worried. I promise, Nina, it’s not like with Mathir. He knew what he was doing was wrong and hid it from you on purpose.”
But for all her reassurances, Nina refused to be comforted. She curled into a ball and hid her face under her tail. Kevessa finally gave up, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “She’s terrified of doing anything that might be even slightly questionable in the Mother’s eyes. I can’t really blame her—Mathir tricked her into healing people he’d demanded bribes from—but this is different! I know it’s within the Law. And Nina did, too, before you started questioning it.”
“I’m sorry,” Nirel said defensively. “I just think it’s better to be certain. It would be awful if your bond was broken because you unintentionally violated the Law.”
Kevessa sighed. “I don’t suppose one day will make much difference. We’ll talk to Master Elkan,” she told Nina. “He can tell us for sure that it’s all right. You know he’d never go against the Mother’s will.”
Nina didn’t uncurl, but she stopped shaking. Kevessa shook her head and reached to roll up the cover of the window beside her. “No point keeping ourselves shut in if there’s nothing to hide.”
“No.” Vigorre attended to the other windows. “I expect Master Elkan will give his approval for you to investigate Elder Davon. But what about Keeper Lirolla? What evidence do we have against him?”
Kevessa glared at him, her fists balled. “He kidnapped me!”
Vigorre seriously considered backing beyond reach of a blow. Instead, he held up his hands and made his voice placating. “Yes, but he didn’t harm you. I know he had your father beaten, and threatened worse, but he did free you both. I’m not sure Master Elkan will think that’s enough to justify fishing for hypothetical future plans.”
Kevessa’s expression didn’t soften. “He said he’ll attack us after the ships sail for Tevenar if we don’t leave on them.”
Grudgingly Vigorre nodded. “That does seem like sufficient reason, as the Law defines it. Master Elkan will be able to tell us.” He had to think of some excuse to divert Elkan’s attention away from Keeper Lirolla, at least for a day or two. “But we already know to watch out for him. Elder Davon seems like a more solid case, to me.”
“Maybe.” Kevessa gave an annoyed glance at Nina, then stared out the window. “I hope the ships get off safely. May the Mother grant it.”
Vigorre couldn’t bring himself to echo her prayer. He nodded stiffly and looked away. The last thing he wanted was for the demons and their slaves to receive food to strengthen them. Or ships to seize and use to launch a greater assault on Ramunna, now that their advance forces had softened the resistance.
He glanced back, and his gaze fell on Nina, huddled in Kevessa’s lap. Look at it, putting on a show for his benefit, trying to convince him it really couldn’t go against the Mother’s will, pretending to be miserable so his judgement would be clouded by pity. The Lord of Demons was still trying to seduce Vigorre. He couldn’t let up his guard for an instant.
And maybe the demons wanted their foes, Dualist and Purifier alike, to launch open attacks. That would give them an excuse to unleash their fury against Ramunna without revealing the truth. He’d have to warn Keeper Lirolla to beware.
If it wasn’t too late already.
Twenty
Josiah yawned and leaned against Sar. Why had they come to the docks before dawn if the tide wouldn’t be right for the ships to sail until an hour after? Surely the Purifiers wouldn’t attack with the Matriarch’s soldiers guarding every approach to the harbor. And each ship had a complement of her most loyal men, who would make the journey and protect the precious cargo from any saboteurs that had managed to evade the wizards’ scrutiny.
Let’s check one more time. Everything they’d found so far might have been coincidence. Captain Yosiv was getting impatient with their vigilance. The place where some pitch had shrunk and allowed water to seep between two boards had dampened only a few bags of grain. The half-rotten apple had affected one crate out of three hundred. The dead rat had contaminated a single barrel of salted pork. Yosiv had assured them that such issues affected every trading voyage, and that the Matriarch had sent plenty beyond what they’d bargained for to make up for the inevitable losses. But Josiah still hated to leave a single inch of any of the three ships’ holds unexamined.
Sar laid his ears back and huffed, but complied with Josiah’s request. The morning sun was bright enough that the small window over Josiah’s palm should be inconspicuous to anyone watching. He focused intently as it scanned the piles of cargo that filled the Verinna.
He had to admit, when the arrival of the Matriarch’s carriage finally broke the monotony of endless vistas of undisturbed casks, sacks, and boxes, that if anything had been sabotaged they weren’t going to find it. He let Sar collapse the window and stretched his stiff muscles as discreetly as he could.
The Matriarch swept from the carriage and mounted the steps to join Gevan, Elkan, and Josiah on the platform that had been erected where the dock met the land. She surveyed the three waiting ships with her customary regal air, but Josiah picked up an undercurrent of deep satisfaction that hadn’t been there before.
Captain Yosiv and the other two ships’ captains were escorted by guards to stand before the Matriarch. She surveyed them with pleasure, then addressed the crowds that had gathered to watch the departure ceremony. “People of Ramunna, you are witnessing an historic moment. After centuries of isolation, our cousins in Tevenar have agreed t
o establish diplomatic and trade relations with our nation. These ships are the first of many that will ply the seas between our two lands, to the benefit of both. Already a number of you have experienced firsthand the blessings of the Mother’s power which the wizards of Tevenar have generously offered us.” Murmurs rose from the crowd; the Matriarch paused to let them run their course. To Josiah the reaction sounded mostly approving, but there were scattered pockets of discontent, even anger. More than he would have expected.
When the noise faded the Matriarch went on. “In return we are pleased to share the bounty of our fields to mitigate the famine that has followed their failed harvest. We look forward to continuing this mutually profitable relationship for generations to—”
The crowd broke into startled exclamations as the guards around the platform parted to admit a group of richly dressed men. At their head strode two figures in Keeper robes. Josiah recognized the one whose robe was adorned with colorful embroidery as Vigorre’s father, Emirre Rothen, First Keeper of Ramunna.
Beyond Elkan, Gevan swore. He jerked his head at the one in the plain black robe and hissed, “Yoran Lirolla.”
Josiah gulped and nervously examined the Purifier leader. He looked—ordinary. Rather pleasant, actually, in a nondescript way. Not like a monster capable of kidnapping and torture and murder.
The Matriarch raised her hand and the crowd quieted. “What is this?” she demanded. “Keeper Emirre, I expected you to be here when I arrived, ready to proclaim the Mother’s blessing on the voyage.” Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the men ranged behind the two Keepers. “Perhaps you’re tardy because you took the time to gather so many of the leading citizens of Ramunna to see the ships on their way.”
Keeper Emirre approached the stairs to the platform as if he had every right to be there, Keeper Yoran at his side. The guards glanced at the Matriarch. She nodded haughtily, and they parted to let the two men ascend.
Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) Page 25
