Protector of Thristas: A Lisen of Solsta Novel

by D. Hart St. Martin

“I’m afraid it’s brutal.”

  “Beheading?”

  “No. You remember the Pit?”

  “Yeeessss?” She drew the word out, delaying his answer, unwilling to hear it.

  “They gather up all the manta they can find on the top of the mesa, place them in the Pit and put the condemned in with them.”

  “But…didn’t you tell me the venom is rarely poisonous?”

  “From one manta, that’s true. From many, it’s fatal.”

  That was it. Her stomach couldn’t tolerate another word. She turned away from him and heaved and heaved, bringing up only a small amount of bile. Finally the heaving subsided, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sorry.”

  “No. When did you eat last?”

  “That meal we ate on the way here, I think.”

  “Huddle up. I’m going out to find you some food.”

  She grabbed his arm. She didn’t want him to leave her, not now, not right now. He reached over, took her hand and kissed it. Then he rose and left the chamber. Poisonous snakes? How long does that take? Will she suffer? I have to get her out of here, get her safe, get her home. Let the desert have the damn desert. I’m done with this place.

  She’d tried. She really had. And she thought she’d succeeded. All of Korin’s absent months, all the milestones she’d missed in Rinli’s life, all the ritual and following the rules, and for what? To lose it all over one little push? It took all she had to keep from getting up, striding out into the tunnel and shouting to the mesa-in-full, “I am here and I am taking my daughter home now!”

  But…she remained in her huddle. Wait. Wait for the verdict. If the Elders found Rinli innocent, then the world wouldn’t change. If they didn’t… Lisen closed her eyes and her mind. Some things mustn’t be given too much attention.

  Her eyes popped open. Damn. There’s a spy in Avaret.

  Chesa had joined Nalin to help him in going through correspondence that had arrived since Lisen’s departure. Some required no action whatsoever, some would find satisfaction in a note that explained that Lisen would deal with it as soon as she’d returned from her time away, and a very few demanded immediate attention.

  “Where did you say the Empir went?” Chesa asked as she studied the next letter in the pile.

  “I didn’t,” Nalin replied, “but you might as well know. She’s at Rossla Haven in retreat. It’s been a difficult year with first Elor Zanlot’s and then Rinli’s investitures.”

  “Ah, she needed a rest. I see. Now this one—”

  Chesa could not continue because the door had burst open with the force of a gale blowing through followed by two children running towards Nalin and following behind them, his spouse carrying Baby Lael in a sling.

  “Father, Father, we came all the way here by boat!” Alabar informed him, both he and Linell wrapping their arms around him.

  “We can finish this later, my lord,” Chesa said, rising from the table and heading out, leaving him alone with his family. His heart expanded in his chest, and his smile felt permanently affixed to his face. Family. My family. They’d come to him. He hadn’t realized how truly alone he’d felt until that door had opened to reveal his reason for life.

  Bala stepped up behind him and kissed him on the top of his head. “The children enjoyed their visit with Kirana but kept telling me how much they wanted to be with you. So I figured if the invitation were still open…”

  “Of course it is,” he said, pulling her down by the hand to sit in the chair beside him.

  “What happened?”

  He shook his head. “Not here,” he mouthed. “Not where ears…” He nodded towards Linell and Alabar who’d lost interest in their father and had moved on to Lisen’s desk, admiring its carvings. He reached out to his new son, touched the soft golden hair on his head and sighed. Good to have family here with him, especially if… No, don’t think that way. Everything is fine, and they’ll all be home soon.

  This is it, Madlen thought as she climbed up to the Elders’ chamber. Her father had warned her not to hope even though rumors had sped around the mesa late this afternoon that the Elders had voted to save Rinli’s life. “It might mean that they found her guilty but determined that the crime didn’t merit execution,” he’d cautioned her. There were other rumors, but Madlen refused to hear them. She would remain optimistic until she lost reason to be. Rinli, my Rinli, I’m with you.

  She rounded the last corner and found a line of too many members of the Tribe to fit into the chamber. She had to get in. She watched as the two Defenders at the doorway judged each person worthy or not for entry. They sent most away, and Madlen’s heart beat hard against her chest. She of all people must be allowed in. Maker and Destroyer, don’t let them send me away.

  “No,” one of the guards said gruffly to her. “Move on. You’re not on the list.”

  “Wait, no. Wait. I’m Madlen Por. I must be on the list.”

  The two guards conferred too briefly, and one came back to her.

  “No, not on the list. Get out of the way so those who are on the list can get in.”

  “No,” Madlen cried, “I was a witness.” Nothing. “I’m her friend. Don’t you understand? Please, let me in.”

  “Don’t force me to place you under arrest.”

  Madlen backed away, her heart pining. How could they not admit her? Her, of all people. She turned and took a few steps away from the door, getting out of the way of the others waiting, her eyes focused on the ground.

  “Madlen?”

  She’d barely missed running into him before he spoke. “Korin?”

  “Why didn’t you go in?”

  “They say I’m not on their list.” Madlen fought to hold her tears in check.

  “No. That’s not happening.” Korin grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards the door and up to the front of the line. “I trust that I’m on your list.” He pushed the words out like an order from the captain of the Guard he’d once been.

  “Yes, Korin, you are,” the Defender who’d rejected her replied, “but she’s not, so I’m sure you understand the problem.”

  “My friend and I are going in together, and if you do anything to block us, I’ll have Elder Hozia out here in a second. Now, let us pass.” He pulled Madlen forward, and before she could register what happened, she was inside and seated on the bench next to Rinli. Rinli turned, and her tired eyes widened in surprise.

  “I was told I was only allowed one observer,” she said to her father who had sat down on Madlen’s other side, “and that they’d chosen you.”

  “I reorganized their priorities,” Korin replied.

  “Oh, Fa.” Rinli looked shocked. “I hope you didn’t—”

  “Don’t worry. I just walked her through.”

  Rinli then turned to Madlen. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For coming.”

  “Rin.” Madlen could wrestle no more words from her brain to her mouth. “This is it” was all she could think, and that wouldn’t sound encouraging at all.

  Rinli took Madlen’s hand in one hand and patted it with the other. “It’s all right. It really is.”

  The room went silent as the Elders entered and took their seats. Then Folzon rose, and Madlen’s skin began to crawl with the unseen.

  “Rinli of Garla, we deliberated many hours. With a life riding on our decision, we wanted to explore every possible explanation. You yourself admitted to doing what you are accused of but made clear that you believed your life was in danger. And it’s true you didn’t do any harm to young Tinlo.”

  Good. So far, Madlen dared to think.

  “But…” Folzon paused, and Madlen’s mind screamed No! “We couldn’t ignore certain facts. You possess the same magic your mother practices, the same magic hermits practice. This is anathema to us. If you had never used it here in the mesa, we would have never known, and you would have been safe.”

  Rinli shot up from her seat. “I would have been safe unti
l Tinlo killed me.”

  “Quiet!” Folzon ordered, pointing at Rinli, who resumed her seat, her head down. “You will have an opportunity to speak when we are done.” He paused then returned to his speech. “But you did use it. We cannot sanction that. And having used it once, you cannot be trusted not to use it again.” Madlen felt Rinli squirm beside her, but she kept her silence.

  “Rinli of Garla,” Folzon declared solemnly, and Madlen’s initial hope dissolved into despair. “We find you guilty of using hermit magic. Before we pronounce sentence, you may speak.” Folzon sat down, and Rinli rose. Madlen could feel Rinli’s legs shaking.

  “I ask for mercy,” she began, her voice at first weak but rising in strength as she continued. “I am guilty of ignorance only. I didn’t recognize my gift, or my curse, until I was arrested upon my return here three weeks ago. Now that I am aware of it, I will be able to curtail its use.” She paused but did not sit down. Everyone in the chamber waited, Madlen tingling from the power radiating from her beloved.

  “There is one thing, if I may,” she went on. “Some say I am Mantar’s Child, that my conception fulfills the part of the prophecy that speaks of a child conceived by two nations during the Farii. The remainder of the prophecy has yet to play out, but if I am Mantar’s Child, could it not be possible that I am endowed with the powers of the Maker and Destroyer of all? Mantar is both fierce and forgiving. I would request you consider the latter attribute over the former.”

  And Rinli resumed her seat. Madlen grabbed her hand and squeezed it, watched as Rinli blessed her with a stolen smile. On Madlen’s other side, Korin shifted in his seat, his leg now touching hers. How difficult this must be for him.

  Folzon rose again. “Your words are certainly reasonable, Rinli of Garla, but our decision is made.”

  “So allowing me to speak was no more than courtesy?” Rinli’s anger echoed through the room.

  “Silence!” Elder Rostor ordered.

  “You are guilty as charged,” Folzon proclaimed, “and the punishment for your crime is death.”

  Madlen gasped. Rinli gasped. Madlen could feel the muscles in Korin’s leg tense.

  “You will be taken to the Pit tomorrow night where the manta will be set upon you. The Elders declare it so.” Elder Folzon paused, made to sit, but didn’t. “And,” he added, his tone filled with scorn, “if you are Mantar’s Child, perhaps It will save you. ”

  As the Defenders grabbed Rinli up and took her away, Madlen looked around frantically. All the Elders were shaking their heads as though they regretted what they’d done, but they didn’t. They couldn’t, not and mete out this grave a penalty. Madlen wanted to cry. She willed the tears to come. But they didn’t. Or wouldn’t. She didn’t know. Beside her, Korin sat, shaking his head.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said to him.

  “I know, Madlen,” he replied softly. “I must go. Can you get back to your chamber alone?”

  “Of course.” It was an odd question, but the moment itself was odd. She watched Korin stand and stride out of the chamber. She, too, wanted to leave, but couldn’t muster up the impetus to rise from the bench. She touched the spot beside her, the spot where Rinli had sat until a minute ago. It was growing cold already. She had to leave.

  Finally she rose and headed out. And finally, finally, finally, the tears came. She rushed down the tunnels, and when she got to Rinli’s chamber, she slipped in and wept—wept until she could weep no more—then remembered the story often told of the first Thristan winter in the caves in the Rim, the story that always ended with this oft-repeated sentence. “For the lot of The People is grief.”

  As Korin made his way down the tunnels to his chamber, his mind raced through impossible plan after impossible plan to rescue his Rinli. He knew Lisen would offer to take her place, though he didn’t know how, but that would be folly. He couldn’t choose between a spouse and a daughter, but to a former captain of the Guard, the Empir was all, and he could never allow her to sacrifice herself. Even for…

  Destroyer! He pounded a fist into the rock wall in passing, not punching so hard as to cause himself damage, but hard enough to make his knuckles hurt and perhaps take his mind off the inevitability of the pain of all pains.

  How do I explain this to Lisen? How do I explain that unless Rinli is Mantar’s Child and Mantar chooses to be merciful, Rinli will die. He couldn’t think it. How did they get here? How did they get to a place where his daughter’s life was forfeit? And all for her stubborn refusal to allow her mother to teach her. Well, her mother’s taught her now, but what’s the point if she’s going to…?

  Lisen. Lisen will know what to do. She always has some plan or other brewing in that mind of hers. But in his heart he knew she would be comfortless, making all the wrong assumptions and offering herself in exchange. There was no time to sit back and contemplate the pros and the cons of anything. If they were going to act, it had to be now. Or a day ago or even a month ago. Not an hour from now or tomorrow.

  He reached the curtained entry to his chamber and paused. Lisen would have heard him approaching and prepared herself for whatever words might come. How do you prepare for this? he asked himself. And how do I tell her?

  He breathed the familiar tight air of the mesa and pulled the curtain open.

  Lisen stood. “Korin?” Her voice came out small and wary, but all he could do was shake his head. “The worst?” she asked in an unbearable whisper.

  “Tomorrow night.”

  She dropped to the floor. “Creators.”

  Korin went to his knees and took her hands. “I’ve tried and tried to think of something.”

  “I’ve been thinking, too, and here’s the plan.” Her speech, though soft to keep anyone outside from hearing, was pressured, speeding through the words, her eyes on her hands entwined with his. “Between now and tomorrow night, you or Hozia get me back inside her cell, all right? Then I give her a quick lesson in making herself invisible. She can do it. I know she can.”

  “Lisen.”

  “No. You and she escape this place and head back to Garla. And I’ll disguise myself as her for as long as I can so you can get home.”

  “You’ll die.”

  She stopped abruptly and looked at him. “Of course, I’ll die. That’s the point. I die so she doesn’t.”

  “You know I can’t let you do that.”

  “You can’t let me do that? Who the Destroyer do you think you are?”

  “Shh, quietly.”

  Lisen whirled her head away from him, and as he was about to attempt to reengage her, a sound from the doorway forced him to turn. It was Madlen.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a voice and posture intended to appease and then turned to leave.

  Korin rushed out behind her and caught her just a few steps up the tunnel. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “Not a word,” he whispered. “Not a word.”

  “She came. Rinli said she would, but I just thought—”

  “Promise me. Not a word. For Rinli’s sake.”

  Madlen nodded. “I promise. For Rinli’s sake.”

  “Now, did you come to see me for a reason?”

  “I just wanted to ask if you had a plan.”

  “I don’t.”

  “And…?”

  “No, the Empir has nothing either. Go home.” He smiled at her. He couldn’t help it. “Tell your father you love him, all right?”

  Madlen nodded again, and the two of them parted, Madlen heading up and Korin heading down, taking the few steps back to his chamber. He found Lisen waiting, arms crossed over her chest.

  “Great. Now she’ll tell everyone.”

  Korin approached her, reaching out his palm to cover her heart. “No. She’s promised. For Rinli.”

  Lisen’s right hand went straight to his chest. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to spend a sleepless day trying to figure that out.”

  “I still think changing places with her is the answ
er.”

  “Which, as a captain of your Guard, I cannot allow you to do.”

  “But you’re not a captain of my Guard.”

  “In all but fact I am.”

  “An impasse then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, if we’re going to do anything, we’d better do it soon.”

  The two of them sat down on the floor again, no longer slaves, only servants to their heartbreak, and began discussing possibilities. It didn’t take long for them to discover there were none.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  DESCEND INTO THE PIT

  As soon as she’d stepped into her parents’ chamber, Madlen had told her father she loved him, heeding Korin’s charge to her. Then, she’d left to try to see Rinli, but both the Elders and Defenders alike had rebuffed her pleas. So she’d ended up back in Rinli’s chamber and had indulged her fear and grief with tears and multiple appeals to Mantar. She never slept.

  A bell sounded through the mesa. It was not the usual call to breakfast. Breakfast would come after, for those with stomachs still capable of accepting food after what they were about to witness. Madlen doubted she could. She rose from the pallet, dusted her robe off and wrapped her head in a white scarf she’d found amongst Rinli’s things. With the color of grief covering her, she stepped out into the tunnel where she joined several others making their way up to the Pit. She kept her head down, hoping to avoid recognition, but a hand on her shoulder ended that dream.

  “You shouldn’t see this.”

  It was Korin’s voice, and she turned to look at him as he strode up beside her. He carried a white shroud over his arm, and that sight nearly broke her.

  “Do you love her?” she asked him.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “So do I. And I will serve as witness to her pain.”

  Korin nodded and moved ahead of her. For less than a breath, she felt discarded, but then she chided herself for being selfish. His duty lay with Rinli, not with her. As she continued to climb with the others, saying nothing, her head down, she thought of the Empir below, unable to come comfort her daughter because she didn’t dare reveal herself to the Tribe. Madlen thought it odd that Rinli’s mother would hide away like that. Were she Rinli’s mother, she’d say to the Destroyer with hiding; I will see my child. But maybe there were reasons Madlen didn’t understand. She hoped that Rinli understood them, or her mother’s rejection would draw its own pain.