“No. They mustn’t come here. Tell them I’m grateful but they need to stay away from Temple Home.”
“Your friends are already here, having landed this morning. The ritual will be tomorrow night, from dusk till dawn,” Quaid said.
“I’ll refuse to participate. I’ll demand the Lady kill me or have me killed.” Khevan’s frustration and fear for Twilka were practically choking him. He had to find the right words to make this uninvited meddler understand. “Everything I did for the last five years was in support of my love for Twilka, to keep her alive. Safe. If she puts herself into the Red Lady’s hands now…” He shook his head as Quaid sat, unmoved. “I’ll be dying for nothing and so will Twilka.”
“Or you might both be alive and free at the end of the night.” Quaid rose. “It is, of course, your choice, but be aware your friends and the woman you love will be there, will watch you die if you give up without a fight. Knowing our charming Lady of the Flames as I do, she’ll take great pleasure in prolonging your death to torment Twilka in particular. Do you want her to have those as her final memories of you?”
Khevan was silent for a moment, searching for loopholes and finding none. “The Lady’s already granted their request to stand with me?”
“I think the idea amuses her. Novelty is enticing to a millennia-old goddess and she couldn’t resist this twist. I counted on her reaction, in fact.” Quaid went to the door, disdaining the chair. Clearly, it wasn’t his job to remove it from the cell. “I’ll rejoin you at dinnertime tomorrow, make sure you’re given the proper meal and all the weapons and clothing your rank demands. I’ll stand at your shoulder as you enter the ceremonial space.” He rapped on the panel and glanced over his shoulder at Khevan. “Think long and hard about throwing away the sacrifice your friends and your woman are prepared to make.”
The door opened and the Renegade was gone. A guard edged into the cell and snatched the chair, lest Khevan have one thing more than he was supposed to and derive comfort from the fact. The door slammed and he heard the lock close. At least he was to be spared any more of Harbin’s taunting.
He reclined on the lumpy, straw filled mattress, hands behind his head, and tried to order his thoughts, to decide what to do. No one knew exactly what merdamier involved, doubtless arduous mental and physical tests the Red Lady would devise, based on the person being examined, but all members of the Brotherhood were aware it had been hundreds of years, if ever, since anyone at his level had won freedom from their vows. The idea hadn’t even crossed his mind, if truth be told.
Nick, Mara, and most of all Twilka were staunch allies, but how could they hope to defeat the Lady’s worst efforts? But if the three of them were determined to stand with him, he had to give his supreme effort to the challenge.
CHAPTER EIGHT
True to his word, the Renegade reappeared with the evening meal the next night, helping himself to a few of the choicer morsels as Khevan cast aside the rough penitent’s robe, bathed in the tub the temple’s servants filled with hot water, dressed in his black leather uniform, and strapped his knives on. “I made sure your own blades were returned to you,” Quaid said, sipping his wine. “Apparently, someone had taken it upon himself to confiscate them prematurely.”
Khevan paused as he fastened his shirt. “Harbin?”
“He overestimates his rank at the moment, which will bring him to grief if he’s not careful.” With a wicked grin, the Renegade took a slice of cheese. “I was also clear with the kitchen I’d be sharing your meal, and if there was any attempt to poison or drug you, I’d be the first to suffer. Which the Lady would not regard with favor. You have many enemies in the order, which goes to show how well regarded you were by the Lady.” He sounded admiring.
“A distinction I could have done without.” Khevan sat at the table which had been brought in and served himself a steak.
“Your friends and your woman are here, and I’ve tried to explain how this ceremony may work,” Quaid said, while Khevan choked down fine Azrigone beef, knowing he needed energy for the ordeal ahead. “The Lady in White’s soldiers will escort them into and out of the chamber, to ensure there are no…accidents. Her Chief Monk has agreed to judge the contest. Our goddess accepts his jurisdiction, which did rather surprise me. I wonder if the sisters have discussed this, unbeknownst to us mere mortals.” He took another morsel of the cheese.
“I’m grateful for your help with the arrangements.” Khevan wasn’t in the mood for conversation. He needed to settle his mind, and be at his sharpest for whatever the Red Lady might throw at him. Twilka’s life depended on it.
“A number of your Brothers—and one of the Sisterhood—have come to me secretly in the last day, offering to stand with you in place of the outsiders.” Quaid studied the fruit on the side plate and plucked a handful of golden berries. “I think some of them actually have loyalty to you, or believe you might have a chance, and therefore their standing would be immeasurably enhanced if they stood by your side. Hard to know the true motives, the Brotherhood is so rife with plots and games. And the Sisters have their own intricate maneuvers of power, which no mere human such as you or I can hope to comprehend.”
“I want no one but Nick, Mara, and Twilka,” Khevan said. “Since the prize on the line is my life, and freedom to leave the order, those three are the only ones I trust to have at my back.” He shot the Renegade a look. “Present company excepted, of course.”
“Understood. I rejected all the offers on your behalf. The Lady made her will clear to me in any case—only the three outsiders would be allowed to participate.”
“Thank you.”
“At least a few in the order’s ranks were kindly disposed to your quest.”
“The only one who matters is the Red Lady, and she’s livid I chose Twilka over her.”
Khevan and Quaid walked through the corridors in the dank dungeon area under the temple, escorted by Harbin and ten Brothers with drawn blasters. He found their fear of him amusing. As if he’d try to escape now, at the last moment.
In the upper hallway, the Senior Monk from the Lady in White’s temple waited, leaning on his gnarled staff, the translucent crystal at the top glowing faintly. Straightening with an audible crack of his spine, the monk eyed Khevan for a moment.
“Is it still your intention to undergo the challenges of merdamier, no matter what the Red Lady may present to you?”
Khevan stood at attention, gazing at a point above the elderly monk’s head. “It is, sir.”
“You understand your life and the lives of your allies may be immediately forfeit if any challenge is failed? And you swear to abide by my rulings?”
Now he lowered his eyes to meet the man’s assessing stare. “I do.”
“It is well. The chamber for the challenge awaits.” The monk pointed his staff in the direction he wished them to proceed.
Khevan wondered where his friends were and if he’d have any chance to speak to them before the night of trials commenced. He marched next to the Renegade, disoriented, feeling as if he was standing to the side, out of body. If Quaid hadn’t thought to safeguard his dinner by sharing it, he’d suspect he was drugged. The idea he was going to undergo merdamier, with Twilka and the others involved, was unfathomable.
He entered an area of the temple he’d never seen before or set foot in. The elderly monk proceeded, surefooted, as if he knew exactly where he was going in the twisting hallways. Khevan speculated how old the man was. Could he have been alive for the last merdamier, centuries ago? There were rumors the goddesses could grant near immortal life to their favored adherents. He gave himself a mental shake, trying to gather his wandering wits. The Red Lady was liable to throw anything and everything at him during this night and he needed to focus.
Two senior D’nvannae Brothers were standing guard at a pair of tall wooden doors, embossed with symbols in the Lady’s language, accented lavishly in gold leaf. As the group approached, the men opened the portals, and Khevan stepped across the t
hreshold. It was a large chamber, with an ornate throne on an elevated platform at the front, sitting on a dais worked with tariqnas, their wings, necks, and tails entwined in an erotic dance.
The doors closed behind him with a thump and he realized he’d come to a halt, mesmerized by the Lady’s throne.
The monk indicated Khevan and the Renegade were to step into an enclosure guarded by a waist-high rail, dark wood, gleaming with polish, supported at regular intervals by more tariqnas, carved from various types of wood. A simple wooden bench sat in the exact center of the space.
“You will take your place here and remain standing until the Lady has entered and seated herself.” The monk closed the gate behind them and moved to stand on a raised dais to the left. There was a throne there as well, although the monk chose not to sit. This throne was carved from a mixture of gleaming white substances, like bone or opal, with the outline of nebulae on the back and sides, accented by sparkling gemstones. The central nebula on the throne had a significant resemblance to a tariqna in shape. Khevan wondered if the fabled home planet of the sisters lay in the depicted star formation. A smaller, wooden chair had been placed incongruously to the side for the occasion.
“Where are the others?” Khevan whispered to Quaid.
Before his companion could answer, the doors opened with a whoosh and three monks of the White Brotherhood paced into the room, each paired with one of Khevan’s friends. Nick and Mara were hand in hand, faces set in serious expressions. Nick sketched a casual salute and Mara gave him a small wave. Twilka came last in the line, searching the room for him. Her lush lips curved upward with happiness and she sighed with obvious relief when her eyes met Khevan’s.
He shook his head, although he allowed himself a small smile for her. Best not to say anything. His adrenaline was spiking, worried for her safety, for the safety of all three of them, and he had to avert his gaze, take a deep breath, and run through a meditation chain to center his emotions for combat. The longing to go to Twilka and hold her in his arms was hard to resist, but he had to call on all his self-discipline to endure the night ahead. He couldn’t breach the protocol and risk unknown consequences for both of them. On the surface, she appeared to be recovered, no bruises from the blow Harbin had given her in the street.
His three allies took their place in another enclosure to the right, with a monk standing behind each.
A gong sounded and there was a blast of heat and light as black and purple flames exploded into life, encircling the red throne at the front of the chamber, drawing all eyes. A moment later, the Red Lady of D’nvannae sat there, at ease, smiling, beautiful in a form fitting scarlet dress. She’d manifested in a lush representation calculated to appeal to human males.
The Senior Monk bowed to her. “We are all assembled, my Lady, and ready to begin the challenges at your pleasure. The sun sets at this moment.”
She nodded and transferred her attention to Khevan, glaring at him with her brow furrowed. “Any last words, oath breaker?”
“No, my Lady.” There was nothing he could say or do now.
Lips tight, the Lady flicked her left hand and a section of the floor in front of her throne disappeared, replaced by a circular pit, lined in flat sheets of ruby, with deep channels of obsidian and jet running between the gems. The depression was ten feet in diameter and the air above it shimmered, as if heated by a desert sun.
“Explain this to the participants,” she said to the monk, “Since not all are of my Order.”
“The Lady chooses the time, the setting, and the nature of the challenges, and creates the reality into which the oath breaker and his ally will be physically placed.” Gesturing at the oval, he added, “We here in the chamber will be able to watch the events transpire, in order for me to reach judgments as to outcome.”
In the next breath, he swung the butt of his staff to strike the large gong that had appeared from thin air. The sonorous note echoed in Khevan’s head, filling his senses with sound, the vibrations driving him to his knees and blocking out his vision.
Dimly, he heard Mara gasp and Nick swearing.
Merdamier was underway.
He waited in the outer chamber, standing where the senior Brother in charge of pledges had told him to wait. Each boy came here alone, to reflect for a few moments on the choice he was making, to ready his mind for acceptance of the Red Lady’s blessing, and to dedicate his life to her. Soon he’d see the Red Lady personally, as she accepted his oath and bound him to her service. It was said a few specially talented or lucky boys in each class received a visitation from the Lady in White while waiting here and were offered the choice to serve Her instead. He flicked his gaze sideways for a moment at a closed door set into the far wall. Rumor said if a boy chose to serve the Lady in White, he exited through that door, which would open only to him for a few moments. He’d be banned from the Red Lady’s temple for life. Khevan admitted to a bit of sneaking curiosity what it’d be like to glimpse the Lady his mother had so admired, but he didn’t want the distraction.
Maybe less determined boys need time to gather their courage, but I don’t need any time for reflection. No second thoughts or regrets for me.
Despite his defiant attitude, Khevan shivered a bit and shifted on the stone, cold beneath his bare feet. He tried to stoke his courage with the fire of his anger against his stepfather, but the emotions wouldn’t come, overridden by the knowledge he was about to face one of the most feared and unpredictable sentients in the Sectors. What if she rejects me? He’d worked hard in the training classes and was counted at the top of his age level, but the instructors emphasized over and over the warning one shouldn’t assume anything where the Red Lady was concerned. She has to accept me—I’ll swear to whatever she wants.
Waiting was eating at him. The room was cold; his supplicant robe a thin and scant barrier against the chill. Was this part of her testing of the applicants?
Footsteps sounded in the corridor behind him and he pivoted, alarmed. The D’nvannae in charge had told him he’d be left in solitude until it was his moment to see their Lady. Was someone coming to remove him before he had his chance to bond with her? Had he already failed without recognizing a test?
An ordinary human woman stepped into the room. Blonde and beautiful, she was dressed in a black tunic worn over blue leggings, her shoes expensive embossed leather, and her only jewelry an old-fashioned gold wedding ring on her left hand. “Khevan?”
Although he wanted to sag with relief, he went on the offensive instead, as he’d been taught, assuming a combat-ready stance. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”
“I’m Mara.” Head tilted, she waited, as if expecting him to recognize her. “You don’t know me at all, do you?”
Seeing no threat in her, he relied on the fledgling social skills the monks had been drumming into him and the other recruits from the lower rungs of galactic society. Stepping back from the aggressive pose he’d assumed, he bowed. “No, my lady, I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“It’s all right; I hardly recognize you, although the truth is we didn’t meet until you were a grown man. But we are friends. Or will be.” She looked around the chamber, touching the nearest tapestry. “Where are we?”
“In the antechamber to the Oath Room.” How could she be unaware of her location? “I’m the next applicant to give my life to the Red Lady.”
Mara walked to the bench. “May I?” Without waiting for permission, she sat and patted the cushioned surface beside her in invitation.
Still confused by her presence, he sat at the other end. She wore a spicy perfume, reminding him of someone or something lost to him. A twinge of intense sorrow pierced his thoughts and his heart. He shook the effect off with an impatient snort.
“Why are you choosing to serve the Red Lady?” she asked.
“A foolish question. I plan to become the most highly trained and honored D’nvannae Brother ever to serve her,” he said, sitting straight-backed and proud.
“Wh
y? Is it the power? The fame? Do you believe all her promises?”
Confiding the real reason was tempting. This woman seemed important to him personally, a friend as she herself had said, although he’d no idea who she was. Astonishing himself, he decided to trust her. Leaning closer, he said in a low voice meant to carry only to her ears, “I join so I can kill my stepfather.”
This Mara was made of stern stuff, not flinching from the hatred he injected into his declaration, although her blue eyes widened. Biting her lip, she asked, “Did he kill your mother?”
Khevan lowered his eyes, as scenes of his mother’s sad death flooded his mind. “Yes.”
Voice soft, Mara asked her next question. “Do you think she’d want you to sign up for a lifetime of killing and blood? Would she want you to honor her memory in such a way?”
“I-I can’t remember her,” he said, furious with himself over the tears burning in his eyes. “Except for how she died.”
Mara closed the gap between them and gave him a hug. “I’m sure she loved you very much.”
“Then why did she stay with him? He beat both of us and then he finally went too far. Those memories are seared into my brain. I thought I was big enough now to stop him, but I failed, and he killed her, threw her down the stairs and broke her neck, staged the scene to support his lies of her death being an accident. No one would believe me about what really happened. The police didn’t care if I was a witness, or whether I too bore the bruises of his anger. The Brothers will make sure I’m strong enough, deadly enough to kill him when I seek him out. I’ll have my revenge. He sold me to their recruiter for a handful of credits, but the joke’s on him—I want to be here.” Hands clenched into fists, he shook with the anger rising through his body.
“Didn’t your mother encourage you to serve the Lady in White? To be a warrior for good?”
Star Survivor (The Sectors SF Romance Series Book 6) Page 10
