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

by Holder, Angela

  Josiah brightened as his master hurried across the square toward them, murmuring apologies as he pushed past waiting patients. Tobi bounded ahead and parked herself in front of Josiah, fixing him with her intelligent gaze. “Master, you’ve got to come with us. Listen to this. Vigorre, Kevessa, tell him about the dungeon.”

  Vigorre and Kevessa took turns pouring out a stomach-turning description of the Matriarch’s prison, going into even more gruesome detail than before. Elkan listened, his expression becoming grimmer and grimmer, his fingers digging harder and harder into the fur on Tobi’s back.

  When they finished, he took a deep breath. “Have either of you witnessed any of this personally, or is it all based on rumor?”

  Vigorre shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I—not personally, no, but everyone knows it’s true. The Matriarch won’t even allow Keepers in to minister to the prisoners.”

  Elkan looked up toward the palace. “It’s not enough. There needs to be an eyewitness complaint.” He frowned at Josiah. “I would have thought you, at least, would remember that.” His gaze shifted meaningfully to Nirel.

  Josiah quailed at his master’s displeasure, but lifted his chin. “This is different. The Matriarch isn’t just anyone, she has power over the whole country. If she’s guilty of this sort of crime, shouldn’t she be held accountable? Even if she uses her power to keep anybody from seeing what she’s doing? The ships of food are on their way to Tevenar, so we don’t have to worry if she gets mad at us anymore.”

  Kevessa chimed in. “Tharan said he’d covered up bribes and threats and assassinations for her. Isn’t that good enough evidence?”

  Elkan jerked his attention to her. “Tharan?”

  He listened as she gave an account of all she’d observed through the window that morning. Josiah could hardly believe what he was hearing. Could the kindly old man he’d met, so concerned for his suffering daughter, really be capable of such ruthlessness? But when he remembered how Davon had spoken of his obligation to cast Mila out of her family and her faith for the sin of seeking relief from pain, he knew he could.

  Elkan pushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “That’s something,” he admitted. He looked at Tobi. “Maybe enough. If we were to go in, and demand that you be allowed to speak to your father, Vigorre, and you to your uncle, Kevessa—” He shook his head. “But even if the conditions really are that deplorable, the Matriarch won’t kill them. Not several dozen of Ramunna’s leading citizens. She’d have a revolt on her hands. And if their lives aren’t in immediate danger, we can’t risk ruining our relationship with her to free them.” He held up a hand to forestall Josiah’s protest. “Even though the ships are gone, our work here isn’t done. We have to establish the Wizards’ Guild in Ramunna. The Matriarch can prevent that, if we anger her.”

  Kevessa wrinkled her nose. “She needs us to keep her baby healthy. She’ll do anything to keep us happy.”

  “Only to a point. And if she’s overthrown by the Purifiers, they’ll be determined to stop us.”

  Josiah stared at him. “Surely the Purifiers can’t really succeed in taking over?”

  “If we help them, they might. Think. Yoran Lirolla has half of Ramunna convinced the familiars are demons. If we go tearing into the Matriarch’s palace, blazing away with the Mother’s power, how long before the guards and soldiers decide they’re right? We know some of them are Purifier spies already. The Matriarch is only as powerful as the people who enforce her orders. If she loses their loyalty, she’s doomed.”

  Kevessa deflated, turning her head as tears came to her eyes. “I guess you’re right.”

  Vigorre put an arm around her shoulders. “So what do you suggest? We have to do something. We can’t just leave them there.”

  Josiah glared at him and pressed close to Kevessa. Vigorre had already captured Nirel’s affections; Josiah wasn’t about to let him steal Kevessa, too. Nirel must be having similar thoughts, because she plastered herself to Vigorre’s other side.

  Elkan scowled at them and rubbed his forehead. “Bargain with her, the way we’ve been doing. I can make it clear our help is contingent on her treating the prisoners well.” His gaze raked the row of angry youths facing him, and a rueful smile quirked his lips. “Vigorre, you go to the palace and demand to speak to your father. You can report back to me on what you observe. Kevessa, I know you want to see your uncle, but I need you to stay here and keep healing. Nirel, you assist her, and Borlen can assist me. Josiah, I want you to keep your appointment with Gevan at his workshop. I ran into Nalini and sent her up to the University. One of the diabetic patients has volunteered to help; you can take her with you. Vigorre, Gevan’s probably still at the palace, but I doubt there’s anything useful he can do there. Tell him Josiah and Nalini are waiting for him.”

  Josiah had to admit the plan sounded reasonable. He’d been carried away for a minute, but now he could see that forcing a violent confrontation would probably make matters worse. Besides, he couldn’t wait to get to Gevan’s workshop and start delving into the knotty problem of how to cure diabetes, or at least treat it without the Mother’s power.

  Vigorre was reluctantly nodding; Kevessa was scowling, but it looked like she’d comply. Nirel, though, refused to back down. “What if Vigorre sees the prisoners being abused? What if the Matriarch refuses to stop it? Would you really let her baby die? I don’t believe you would. I bet she won’t, either.”

  Elkan toyed with Tobi’s ears. “We don’t know yet if her body’s going to reject the child. She might have a healthy pregnancy without our help.”

  “Even more reason for her to keep doing whatever she wants. You won’t ignore a dungeon full of suffering prisoners for the sake of not offending her, will you?”

  Elkan was silent for a long moment, his eyes distant. When he spoke, his voice was soft but certain. “No. If she really is torturing them, and there’s no other way to stop her, we’ll use the Mother’s power to free them. But only when I give the word, and only with a well-thought-out plan in place to minimize the chance of inadvertent harm.”

  Nirel nodded slowly. “All right.” She jerked her head at Kevessa. “Let’s get to work.”

  Vigorre let go of Kevessa and gave Nirel a quick embrace. “I won’t be long. I promise, Kevessa, I won’t let anyone stop me until I know your papa and my father are both safe.”

  “Thank you.” She shivered, gave him a wan smile, and turned away. Josiah hoped she’d have a word or hug for him, but she didn’t even glance at him as she followed Nirel back to the cot where the next patient waited.

  Twenty-One

  “I must speak to my father,” Vigorre repeated for what seemed the thousandth time. “Master Elkan sent me. The Matriarch will be displeased if you refuse his request.”

  Apparently he’d finally worked his way through the ranks of guards to someone with actual authority. The soldier eyed him, then gestured toward a stone bench that jutted from the wall of the windowless room. “Wait there. I’ll have a decision for you in a moment.”

  It was far longer than a moment, and Vigorre was chilled through and stiff from the cold seat when the man finally returned. “The Matriarch has granted your request. Follow me.”

  Thank the Mother. Vigorre followed the guard’s flickering lantern through a maze of narrow low corridors and down several flights of tightly twisted stairs. They were at least fifty feet below the main level of the palace, deep within the cliff, when the guard used a large key to open an iron-banded wooden door. “In there. Keeper Emirre is in the third cell on the left. You’ve got ten minutes.”

  Vigorre nodded, his mouth dry, and stepped through the door. It crashed shut behind him. The only light came from a single smoky oil lamp at the far end of the long hall. Ducking his head to keep from banging it against the low, rough ceiling, he put his hand on the left wall and groped past two metal grates that blocked the openings to tiny, empty cells.

  At the third he stopped and peered into the gloom. “Father?�
� he whispered.

  “Vigorre?” His father’s voice was shocked. A dim form moved, and suddenly frail hands were reaching through the grate to grasp his. Emirre’s face was a pale oval behind the bars. “Dear Mother, son, what are you doing here?”

  “I had to make sure you were safe.” Vigorre clung to his father’s hands, encouraged by their firm grip. “What has she done to you?”

  Emirre chuckled grimly. “Nothing dire. Though I must admit, cold stone is hard on old bones. Still, it’s nothing I can’t endure for a few days. Long enough for Keeper Yoran’s plan to bear fruit.”

  “He has a plan? This is part of it?” Vigorre’s breath quickened.

  “Not his first choice, I understand, but a contingency he accounted for.” Emirre jerked his head. “Ask him yourself. He’s across the way, a few cells down.” His voice rose. “Yoran? Vigorre’s here.”

  A snort suggested Keeper Yoran had been drowsing. “Vigorre? Praise the Mother. This is a welcome surprise.”

  Vigorre squeezed his father’s hands and released them. His eyes had become sufficiently adjusted to the dim light that he could make out Yoran’s face peering from his cell and walk there without stumbling. “Keeper Yoran. You’re well?”

  “Well enough. The Matriarch’s dungeon isn’t pleasant, but I can’t say it lives up to its reputation.” Yoran grasped his hand in turn.

  Vigorre breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Kevessa and Josiah were all set to come charging in here and tear the place apart, until Elkan talked them down.” He swallowed. “They still will, if that would suit your plan. Elkan was afraid the guards would see the truth about the demons and turn against the Matriarch if they saw them fighting and breaking the cells open. All I’d have to do is lie and tell them I saw Father in pain.”

  Yoran rubbed his chin, staring into the darkness. “Maybe… it’s tempting. But no. If I’d known that would be their reaction I could have arranged something, but now it would only interfere with what I’ve set up.”

  Vigorre grimaced. “I’m sorry. I should have realized, should have told you—”

  Yoran waved a hand. “Everything is under control. I just need you to play your part. Your stepmother would have given you your instructions this evening, but now I can instead. I need you to rush back to the palace late tonight, saying the stress of the day has thrown Nathenarre into early labor and begging a wizard to accompany you back to your home. Master Elkan, if at all possible, but any of the three will do.”

  Vigorre’s heart thudded in his ears. “This is the trap?”

  “Yes. I’m not going to tell you what will happen, because I want you to react naturally. But you’ll be given a chance to fetch each of the other wizards in turn. By morning they’ll all be dealt with.”

  “That’s… that’s good.” He felt dizzy. “Even Kevessa?”

  Yoran’s voice was sympathetic. “My men have instructions to spare her life if they can. But it depends on how quickly they can separate her from her demon.” At Vigorre’s silence, his tone sharpened. “Better she should die than continue as the creature’s slave. If she was in her right mind she’d gladly sacrifice herself to keep Ramunna free of their evil.”

  “Yes,” Vigorre forced out, although he was far from sure of that.

  The Keeper reached for his hands and squeezed them again. “If you can find a way to make her demon vulnerable while protecting her, you have my blessing. But everything depends on eliminating the demons. Including the newest one, the eagle. I have folk in the palace ready to slip into the wizard’s quarters and take care of it once the others are gone.”

  Vigorre nodded stiffly, fighting to keep his turbulent emotions off his face.

  “You walk in the footsteps of the Holy Yashonna and the Prophet Guron, my son. They would be proud of you. The Mother will bless you richly for your part in protecting her people. And though I know it means little to you beside her favor, I will reward you as well, when this is over, with all the wealth and honor I have to offer.”

  Vigorre pulled away. “That’s not why I’m doing it.” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended.

  “I know, my son. The purity of your devotion is a model for us all. But you deserve it, nevertheless.” Yoran looked toward the door. “Is there anything else you need to ask or tell me, before the guard comes back?”

  “I don’t think so.” Vigorre turned away, then jerked back, remembering what Yoran’s unexpected instructions had driven from his mind. “Kevessa’s uncle, Lord Revarren. He’s here with you?”

  “I think everyone is along this corridor somewhere.” He raised his voice. “Revarren? Are you there? Who knows where he is?”

  Voices called back and forth along the corridor, until one exclaimed from far down the hall. Vigorre hurried to greet him. Revarren smiled at him through the bars. “Tell Kevessa not to worry about me.” His face clouded. “If there’s any way you can get her free from that monster…”

  “I’ll try, sir. I promise.”

  “Thank you, son. We’d give anything to have our sweet Kevessa back.” He shuddered. “If she’s hurt I’ll never forgive myself for failing to protect her.”

  “Nor I.” Vigorre clasped his hand, then hurried back up the corridor. Quiet voices on either side asked him to reassure family and friends of the speakers’ well-being. Vigorre promised to pass on the messages, though he knew he’d never remember all the names.

  Back at his father’s cell, he leaned against the bars and dropped his forehead to the cold iron. “I’ll come back as often as I can.”

  “We won’t be in here long, just enough to make Yoran’s point. The people have to see for themselves how deeply the demons have ensnared her. She dares imprison the Mother’s highest representatives for their sake. They’ll demand our release. When the creatures are dead she’ll come to her senses and grant it.”

  “I hope so, Father.” He’d known all along that Yoran would ask him to betray the wizards to their deaths. But somehow he’d allowed himself to forget it. The false friendship he’d offered had become real at some point during the past week.

  “The Mother will protect us. May she guide and guard you, son, and prosper your work.” Emirre made the sign of blessing over his hands.

  “Thank you, Father,” Vigorre muttered. How could the Mother bless betrayal and murder, no matter how justified?

  The sound of the heavy door creaking open was a welcome release. He muttered a swift farewell to his father and hurried to meet the guard. All the way up he thought about what Yoran expected him to do, and whether he would be able to obey.

  * * *

  Vigorre emerged from the last stair to the sound of angry female voices. One rose above the rest; he smiled when he recognized his stepmother’s imperious tones. “We demand to speak to our husbands. Do you know who I am? The Mother will rain down curses on your heads for daring to touch her First Keeper. Double if you keep his wife from him.”

  The guard with Vigorre hurried to join the two who looked overwhelmed by the group of enraged women. All were of high status and clearly used to getting whatever they wanted. Their full skirts filled the small chamber from wall to wall. “Ladies, please, calm down. I assure you that your spouses are perfectly fine. As soon as their disagreement with the Matriarch is settled they’ll be returned to you safe and sound. A few days at the most, I expect.”

  Nathenarre put a hand on her round belly and glared at him. “My husband is not a young man. What will a few days in that foul hole do to him? Do you want my child to grow up fatherless? I order you to stand aside and let me go to him!”

  Vigorre hurried to her. “Nathenarre, it’s all right. I just spoke to Father. He’s fine; a little uncomfortable, maybe, but he told me to tell you not to worry about him.” He looked around at the others. “All of them are fine, I promise. I saw.”

  The women muttered to each other, still unhappy, but momentarily appeased. Vigorre turned to the guard. “Are you sure you can’t let them go down? One at a time, p
erhaps?”

  The guard shook his head forcefully. “Absolutely not. The Matriarch said you were the only one we were to allow in. She said anyone else who was concerned about the prisoners would have to take your word for their safety.”

  Vigorre shrugged helplessly at his stepmother. “I’m sure Father wouldn’t want you to stay down here in the cold and damp, or get so upset. Not in your condition.”

  He thought he picked up an approving twinkle in her eye, but she played her part to the hilt. “Upset! How can I not be upset? With demons running loose in the city and my Emirre treated like a common criminal? Take me to the Matriarch! I’ll tell her exactly what I think of—” She clutched her belly and doubled over with a gasp.

  Vigorre rounded on the guard. “Now look what you’ve done!” He took Nathenarre’s elbow and patted her back. “Are you all right?”

  She straightened, waving away his concern. “It’s nothing.”

  Vigorre thought about what reaction would best set up the events Yoran had planned for the night. “Let me take you to the wizards. They can make sure you and the baby are healthy.”

  She scowled. “I won’t let those demons touch me.”

  “They’re not demons! If something’s wrong, they can help you, I swear. Think of the baby.”

  She wavered. “Maybe, if…” Her expression hardened. “But we’re both fine.” She glared at the guards. “I believe that your father is in no danger, for the time being. But I’ll want further evidence tomorrow. Now, take me home.” She put her hands on his arm and allowed him to escort her through the press of women to the door. The others grumbled but turned to follow her.

  As they made their way back to the entrance of the palace, one woman pushed through the rest to his side. He recognized Kevessa’s aunt, Lady Alitta. “Vigorre, where’s Kevessa?”

  “She’s fine. I left her in the Beggars’ Quarter with the other wizards around an hour ago.”

  He could see his words were little comfort. “Will you take me there? I have to talk to her.”