Nierne made her way across the pool, turned, and headed back toward the steps. If it had been any other time, she would have enjoyed the beautiful room, the warmth of the water, the light fragrance of something sweet drifting from the plants near the window.
Instead, she stepped out and grabbed the long linen Lamya had left. She dried her body, set the linen down, and grabbed the vial of oil. She popped the top, and the sweet scent she had smelled earlier grew stronger. She lifted the vial to her nose and realized it was the same smell. Almost like one of the roses in the Monastery garden.
Nierne tipped the vial over her cupped hand. Golden liquid pooled in her palm. She set the vial down and rubbed the oil across her skin. Halfway through, she poured more oil and continued to rub until her entire body smelled like the sweet scent in the vial.
The door opened behind her. Nierne snatched the linen and held it across her body.
Lamya walked in. “Here are your clothes.”
Nierne could see pale blue silk draped across her arm. As Lamya held them out to her, the faint tone of bells tinkled across the room. “I’m to wear…that?” Nierne said, eyeing the clothing.
“Yes. At Lady Meira’s request.”
Fear tried to force its way back into her chest, but anger burned it away. Nierne grabbed the clothes. She would be gone soon, and none of this would matter.
“I also brought you something to drink.” Lamya held out a wooden cup. Nierne nodded. Lamya walked over to a small table and placed it down. “It should help calm you.” She looked over at Nierne. “I’m glad you’ve seen sense. I’ll leave you to dress now.” The older woman walked toward the door and left.
The door shut. Nierne dropped the linen and scrambled back into her undergarments. Then she held up the silk clothes Lamya had left.
They were two pieces: a small pale blue top with silver stitching and a long sheer pale blue skirt that split in the center and followed both legs, ending in tiny bells around the ankles.
Nierne felt sick as she looked at the outfit. Suddenly she wished for the brown robes from the Monastery. Something long and modest. A small part of her began to pray, but she caught herself and stopped. The Word was not here. No sense wasting the effort of sending prayers to nothing.
Nierne pulled on the top. It barely covered her chest, leaving her waist visible. She pulled at the fabric, but it would not budge. She then pulled on the bottom. The shear fabric hugged her waist and flared from her hips down to her ankles. The tiny bells woven along the bottom tinkled with every movement.
Nierne wrapped her arms around her body, her hair leaving a trail of wet coldness down her back. She found herself praying again, a habit from years in the Monastery and watching Father Reth.
No! No more praying!
But something still stubbornly clung to her broken faith, like a ship’s anchor dangling uselessly below the raging storm. Why couldn’t she let the Word go, throw Him away like the pendant she had ripped from her throat and tossed across the room?
Nierne walked toward the table where the wooden goblet sat, the bells around her ankles tinkling as she moved. A dark red liquid shimmered in the cup. She lifted the goblet and took a sip. A bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Grimacing, she took another sip, knowing Lamya would want to know if she had drunk the wine she had provided.
Nierne gulped down the rest and placed the goblet on the table. Then she waited for Lamya. The wine burned as it flowed through her insides. The room tilted for a moment. Nierne brushed her head with her fingers. The room moved again. “What is…?” The room began to spin.
She reached out for the table. It should help calm you, Lamya had said when she’d placed the goblet down. Calm me or poison me? Nierne slid to the floor, her head feeling as though it had grown twice its size. All she wanted to do was lie down. Her body felt so heavy.
Lamya had put something in the wine.
No! How could she run away if she was drugged? Her eyelids drooped, and her face came to rest on the cool tile floor. Perhaps Lamya had known she would do just that. Oh, Lamya, why?
16
Lady Meira’s vineyards were a lush and green contrast to the brown scrub brush and rocky hills surrounding it. In the midst of the green vineyards stood her manor, made of beige stone, with tall arched windows and columns. Sand covered the ground, and Cypress trees almost as tall as the red tiled roof provided shade from the blazing desert sun.
Caleb brought his horse to a halt on the hill and gazed down at the manor. He could see servants dressed in short white tunics working in the vineyards or walking along the wall. A male servant passed by one of the windows on the second floor.
Thalis, the head servant of his own estate, had told Caleb that some of the surrounding noble families were struggling to keep their lands. The war had wiped out a lot of their trade routes, and some had lost slaves. Caleb stared at his cousin’s estate. Apparently Lady Meira was doing just fine. He gave his horse a tap with his heels and led her down to the house.
Inside the gates, two young men greeted him. One reached for his reins.
Caleb jumped down and handed them over. He looked at the other young man. “Tell Lady Meira that Lord Tala is here. And have my pack brought to my room.”
The young man bowed. “Yes, milord.” He hurried off toward the house.
Caleb slowly made his way to the front door. A path made of tiny pebbles led to the wide archway. Potted plants lined the path.
The door swung open, and Lady Meira stood in the doorway, dressed in a light-colored gown, her hair pulled up and pinned at the top of her head. She wore a single silver bracelet on each arm. She smiled at Caleb, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Lord Tala, it is a pleasure to have you here.”
“Lady Meira.” Caleb stepped over the threshold and into the large entrance hall. The air was cooler here, out of sight of the desert sun.
Lady Meira closed the door behind him. “It has been some time since your last visit. I found your message…interesting.” A wry smile covered her face. “You usually do not come here for my library.”
“True.” Caleb looked around the entrance hall. Not much had changed since the last time he’d been here. Over a year? Or was that two? Long red tapestries hung along each wall. Wide marble staircases followed both walls, each curving toward the second story. Directly ahead was a hall leading toward the courtyard that the manor encircled. Caleb could see the courtyard through the wide windows.
“I have a dinner prepared for this evening.” Lady Meira headed toward the left staircase. “And entertainment afterward.”
Caleb wanted to say he was interested in only the library, but Temanin hospitality dictated that he allow himself to be served by his hostess first. So he followed Lady Meira up the stairs.
“How are things in court?” Lady Meira asked once they reached the top.
“I have not been to court in some time.” Actually, he hated attending court and spent as little time as possible there.
“Oh?” Lady Meira turned to look at him.
“Lord Corin sent me up north to help with the war.”
“I did not know that,” Lady Meira said with a frown.
That information probably riled his cousin, Caleb thought, looking at Lady Meira. She prided herself in knowing everything political. They continued down the hall.
“I’m starting to hear reports that the battle at the White City did not end well.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “What happened?”
Caleb shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I was not there at the final battle.” Which was true. He had no idea what had happened. All he remembered was the woman with the glowing hand and darkness. And then…the Word.
“Really?” Lady Meira looked smug. “I heard there was some secret weapon used by the White City. Something about a blast of light. Took out our entire army.”
Caleb gave her a sharp look. What in all the Lands? Had the woman with the glowing hand done more than just touch him? Or had the Word done i
t? “The entire Temanin Army?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him. “Lord Corin is not happy. Negotiators have been sent from the White City for the release of our men. Of course, you would know that if you attended court, or were actually there in the north.” Lady Meira stopped before a door. “I will send up a servant with water and a towel so you can freshen up. If you need anything else, just ask.” She opened the door.
“Thank you, Meira,” Caleb said absently, dropping her formal title. He stepped past her into the large room.
“Dinner will be ready in a half hour.”
Caleb gave her a curt nod. Lady Meira shut the door. He stood there a moment. Then he crossed the room, past the monstrous bed in the middle covered in cream silk and hidden by hanging gauze, past the large dresser and oversized mirror, past two tall dark red vases embossed with gold that stood on either side of the balcony doors. He stepped out onto the balcony and placed his hands on the stone ledge. Long rows of grapes lay below him spreading out toward the stone wall at the far end.
Lady Meira’s famous vineyard. He watched the workers make their way through the rows. They carried woven baskets on their hips, piling the plump dark grapes inside. The sun was setting to his left. The air felt warm and heavy around him.
His mind worked through what Lady Meira had said. A blast of light took out the Temanin Army? Impossible! Or so he would have thought months ago. But now, after what he had seen and experienced, he could believe anything. Even that.
He heard the door open inside.
Caleb turned. A short thin man entered with Caleb’s pack swung over his shoulder. He looked up at as Caleb walked back into the room. “Your belongings, milord.”
“You may place my pack over there.” Caleb pointed toward the chest. The servant bobbed his head and walked across the room.
Another servant entered. “Your wash water, milord.” She walked toward a small table as the other servant left the room. She was an older woman, with long dark hair, streaked grey and pulled back in a single braid. He had seen her on his other trips here. Caleb watched her cross the room and place the pitcher and linen cloth next to the basin on the table. Then she turned and bowed. Her eyes came up and never left his face. She seemed to be studying him.
Caleb frowned. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, milord,” she replied and bowed.
Yes, there is. He watched her turn and leave the room. He knew that look of revulsion. As if he had just asked her to do something distasteful. Strange.
Caleb stepped toward the small table and poured water into the basin. He cupped his hands and splashed the lukewarm water across his face. He reached for the cloth nearby and dried off, dumping the cloth back on the table next to the pitcher.
He crossed the room and opened his pack. He pulled out a fresh set of clothes and quickly changed, feeling more refreshed after his long day on the road. He placed his soiled clothing in the corner. One of Meira’s servants would be along shortly to wash them.
Maybe he had time to look in the library before dinner. Caleb quietly stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him. If anyone might have a book about the Word, it would be Lady Meira. He remembered the pendant worn by the red-haired scribe he’d caught during the war. He knew he had seen an image of it here in Meira’s library. It was just a matter of finding it again.
As he headed toward the staircase, he passed the strange servant woman again. “Dinner is ready, milord,” she said with a stiff bow. “I was just coming to let you know.”
Caleb sighed. So much for a visit to the library. “Thank you,” he said and turned toward the other staircase. He could feel her eyes on his back as he descended.
He shouldn’t be surprised, Caleb thought as he headed down the hall toward the dining room. He knew his past self had not been the kindest person. He couldn’t remember ever doing anything to that woman that would cause such hostility, but he’d done much thoughtless cruelty in his life. He glanced back, but she was gone. With a puzzled shake of his head, Caleb headed to dinner.
• • •
Soft cool silky material pressed against Nierne’s face. She lay there, eyes shut, mind groggy. After a few more seconds, she peeled back the darkness and blinked. Nierne groaned and pushed herself up. She rubbed her face with one hand and pushed back her hair. Slowly her mind came into focus. White gauze floated a few feet from her eyes. Nierne frowned and looked down. Cream-colored silk lay beneath her hands.
Where am I?
She fought the fog that still shrouded her mind. Bells tinkled softly at her feet. At the sound, her eyes flew wide open. Nierne scurried backward across the bed. Her feet caught on the gauze behind her. She turned. The gauze wrapped around her feet and legs. She wrestled with the gauze so hard she—
Thud.
She landed hard on the stone floor. A searing pain erupted across her hip and thigh. Nierne extracted herself from the gauze and scurried to her feet. She looked wildly about her.
The white gauze that had tripped her now fluttered by the bed. Candles burned in sconces hung around the dark room. Along one wall was a chest with an oversized mirror above it. A saddle pack stood beside it. She swerved her head the other way. A table with a washbasin and pitcher. Ahead of her was a doorway that seemed to lead out to a balcony. Her gaze swept the room again. There was no one here.
Nierne let out her breath with a swift whoosh. Cautiously, she took one step, then another, each footfall tinkling softly. The sky outside was dark. Night had already fallen.
She crept toward the balcony, still watching for any movement. When she reached the archway, she walked out. A half pale moon hung in the night sky. Looking down, she could see dark rows on the ground. One of the vineyards, she realized. Which meant she was on the guest side of the estate. In someone’s bedroom.
Nierne took a step back, her stomach boiling up inside her. If she was in a guest bedroom, then she was in the room of the man she was to entertain. Betrayal filled her. Lamya had drugged her and brought her here.
Nierne tried to move, but her body refused to budge. Her mind reeled, searching for a way out. Taking two deep breaths, she closed her eyes. Part of her wanted to cry out to the Word. And on some deep level inside her, she was crying out to Him. But the larger part of her was cold toward Him. He had failed her. The Word had let Father Reth die. He had let Rowen be taken away. He had let her be sold as a slave. And now the Word would let her be handed over to be ravished by some strange man.
Her eyes snapped open. She clenched her hands, her body tense with determination. No. Not this time.
Her resolve brought strength back. Nierne turned and walked into the room. The bells around her ankles tinkled softly as she moved. Nierne stopped. She would have to get rid of those accursed bells.
She headed toward the bed, moved the gauze aside, and sat down. She lifted one of her legs and placed it over her knee. The bells tinkled again. Silver thread hemmed the bottom of her leggings, woven in an intricate design and anchoring the bells to her clothing. For one moment she loathed the thought of destroying such beautiful clothes, but the bells would give her away.
Nierne grabbed a hold of one, and then with a quick yank she ripped the bell off. The thread snapped. She placed the bell down. She yanked off the next bell, and the next, until all that was left around her ankles was loose silver thread.
She placed that leg down and brought up her other. Yank, yank, yank. The bells pooled together on the bed, tinkling softly when the bed moved. After she pulled the last bell, Nierne gathered them up into her hands and moved toward the chest. She dumped the bells on the wooden top. One rolled off and hit the stone floor with a tinkle.
Now that she could move silently, Nierne searched for a way out of here. She looked from the bed to the balcony. There. She hurried across the room and grabbed hold of the gauze. She tugged and pulled, but the sheer material would not loosen from the ring above.
Desperate, she searched the room again. The sheets!
Nierne let go of the gauze and grabbed one of the silk sheets. She ripped it from the bed and crossed the room toward the balcony. A cool breeze floated in through the doors. She shivered as she hauled the sheet across the balcony.
She tried to tie the sheet to the ledge, but her fingers kept shaking.
Wait, little one.
Nierne stopped, hearing the soft voice inside her head. Then she jerked herself back. No! She thought harshly, her fingers struggling with the sleek material.
Little one…
Nierne cinched the knot, ignoring the voice inside. Satisfied it would hold, she looked over the ledge. Not quite long enough. She hauled the sheet up. She would need to tie the other one to this one. Nierne headed back inside.
As she grabbed the other sheet, she heard someone fumbling at the door. She stared at the door, her body exploding with adrenaline.
He was here.
Nierne looked around. Panic pumped through her body like fire. There. On the table was a small pitcher. She ran toward it and picked it up. Heavy, but not too heavy.
She turned and stared at the door. It opened a crack. Light poured in, shadowed by a figure. Nierne hefted the pitcher. She would have only one chance at this…
The door opened. The figure stepped inside, a candle held in front of him. Nierne lifted the pitcher. She aimed for his face—
She stifled a gasp and almost dropped the pitcher. That face! She would never forget that face. Those dark eyes, that haughty expression.
In the doorway stood Lord Tala.
Nierne hesitated for one heartbeat. Then she threw the pitcher at him with all her might.
Lord Tala glanced up. He gave her a look of surprise before the pitcher hit him. She heard the soft thump of porcelain contacting skin and hard skull.
Son of Truth (Follower of the Word) Page 18
