The Temple at Landfall

by Jane Fletcher

  Tentatively, Kim felt the bruises down her side. She had not put up any resistance, but the Guards who brought her to the jail, in their religious indignation, had not let that deter them from a little rough handling on the way. The corners of Kim’s lips turned down. It would be unbelievably good luck if she did not have more to complain about before the affair was finished.

  The noise of the key turning in the lock sounded loud in the confined space. Kim looked up and saw the door open slightly and Chip slip sideways into the room, acting as if she feared imminent attack. They stared at each other in silence while the door shut again and the key turned, followed by the soft sound of the jailer’s footsteps walking away.

  Chip took a half pace forward nervously, but then she broke into disjointed speech. “Himoti’s tits, Kim. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you warn me? If you’d just said some—”

  “It wasn’t planned,” Kim cut her off bluntly.

  “If I’d have known...they’d have gotten into the stable over my dead body.” Chip took another few indecisive steps forward, then threw herself down on the bunk opposite and looked at Kim in desolate anguish. “Oh shit, Kim. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I...”

  Chip’s voice choked off. She turned her face toward the tiny window. Kim looked at her friend, torn by conflicting emotions, but the sincerity was unmistakable, as were the tears in Chip’s eyes. Kim felt her anger fade. She sighed and slouched back against the wall behind her.

  “You weren’t to know. I hardly knew myself,” Kim said softly.

  “I’m sorry.” Chip sounded like a lost child.

  “It’s all right. I don’t blame you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I accept your apology.”

  “I’m just really—”

  “Say you’re sorry one more time and I’ll throw something at you.” Something of humor had returned to Kim’s voice.

  Chip bit back her words, but her face was a picture of shamefaced remorse. For a long while, the only sound was the clanging of a door in the distance and faint shouts from outside the window. Chip’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to frame her next question. “So, back in the fort, you and the Imprinter were...” She broke off with a vaguely suggestive wave of the hand.

  “No, nothing happened between us in the fort. But in the stables, we just...” Kim shrugged. “You saw about all there was to see.”

  “Oh. Not very good timing on your part.”

  “Chip, you’ve got a wonderful way with understatement.” Kim studied her friend’s doleful expression and then asked, “How did you get permission to come and see me?”

  “I’m supposed to be getting inventory details from you.”

  “It’s all in the books. They’re up to date.”

  “Oh, I know. But it wasn’t hard persuading the Guards that we’re not very well organized. And they trust me, as I’m the one who dropped you in it.” Chip’s voice faded away over the last few words and she swallowed visibly.

  “So why are you really here?”

  “I had to see you and apologize, but I’ve also got a message for you from the Imprinter...Lynn.”

  Kim bounced forward on the bunk. “How is she? She hasn’t been...harmed at all?”

  “No, of course not. No one is going to touch an Imprinter.” Chip stopped as if reconsidering her words and then glanced at Kim apologetically. “Well, you know what I mean. They’ve got her under guard at the inn, but like I said, I’m trusted, so I was able to talk to her briefly. She’s fine, but a tad less forgiving than you. She’s given me a really tough penance.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’ve got to try and talk you into letting her take all the blame for what happened.”

  “No.” Kim’s rejection of the suggestion was absolute.

  Chip pursed her lips. “That’s what we both thought you’d say.”

  “I’m not going to save my skin by sacrificing hers.”

  “But it isn’t like that. Lynn wants me to convince you that she’s safe. You must believe that, no matter what happens, she’s safe.” Chip paused for a second and looked at Kim uneasily. “They’re going to court-martial you. Tomorrow, we’re all heading off to Landfall. The whole squadron is going, to act as witnesses or something. One of the charges against you will be sacrilege, so the Guards will have their paws all over the trial. But Lynn will be dealt with by the Sisters, and she’s worth money to them in imprinting fees. Lots and lots of money. They won’t do anything that might risk damaging her value. But with you...” Again she paused. “Lynn thinks it is all going to get caught up in temple politics. Some Sisters will want to play up the scandal, in the hope that some of the shit sticks to Smith. They’d like to have you found guilty of attempting to rape an Imprinter and have you strung up by the neck in the main square in Landfall as a warning to all. And if that’s what the Sisters want, then that’s what the Guards will be aiming for too.”

  “But if Lynn takes all the blame—” Kim tried to interrupt.

  “It won’t make any difference to her. Even if you’re found guilty of attempted rape, they’ll know Lynn wasn’t trying to fight you off. It’s a sure bet that someone will make certain Lynn suffers what is considered to be a suitable amount of punishment. Lynn will be better off, formally brought before the Chief Consultant in an ecclesiastical court with everything out in the open.”

  The logic stuck in Kim’s throat. She leaned forward, head in hands, elbows on knees. Without looking up she said, “How do I live with myself, hiding behind her and saying it’s all her fault?”

  “The other way you don’t get to live at all. And from what I can see, even if you stick with the truth, there’s not much you can be blamed for. But just don’t start playing the hero, because if you do, there’s a lot of people in Landfall who’ll lap up everything you say.”

  “I still don’t like it.”

  “Neither Lynn nor I thought for a second that you would.” Chip sighed. “Lynn asked me to say one more thing to you. When she’s in the temple, she’s going to find it a lot easier to cope knowing that you’re still walking the face of the world rather than lying six feet under it.”

  *

  “What did you say to lure Madam Imprinter into the stable?” Major Rozek repeated the question for the fifth time.

  “I didn’t—”

  Kim was not allowed to complete her sentence. At a gesture from Rozek, a Guardswoman stepped forward. Her fist slammed hard into Kim’s stomach, knocking the wind from her body. Kim doubled over, prevented from falling only by the other Guards who held her arms securely in a lock behind her. Rozek stood back, watching keenly as a succession of blows pounded into Kim. But at last, she waved the attacking Guard back and took her place in front of the battered Ranger.

  A few minutes passed before Kim regained her breath and managed to lift her head enough to meet the major’s eyes, to evaluate her interrogator. Rozek was tall, maybe even a centimeter taller than she was. She had a square, but finely formed face. Kim guessed that an unbiased observer would declare her good looking. The fine lines about her mouth showed her to be somewhere in her mid-thirties, while the glint in her eyes revealed more intelligence than one normally expected in a Guard officer. And something else as well. With disgust, Kim realized that the major was enjoying every second of what was happening and would probably be disappointed if Kim meekly gave in and confessed at once to everything that was suggested.

  “What did you say to lure Madam Imprinter into the stable?” Rozek’s voice was mild, devoid of emphasis.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  It was a long time later when Rozek dismissed the other Guards, leaving her and Kim alone in the cell. Kim lay gasping on the floor, curled in a tight ball of pain. Rozek crouched down beside her, for a while studying her victim’s battered form. Then she spoke in the same gentle tones she had used all evening.

  “These are Celaeno’s chosen ones, and through them shall you receive my gi
ft of life. And you shall revere them for my sake and keep them safe from the impurity of the world, in the sanctity of Celaeno’s temple.” She paused. “Are you familiar with that quote, Ranger?”

  Kim made no reply.

  “It’s from the book of the Elder-Ones. They are the words of the blessed Himoti herself. And you have the depravity to lay your foul hands upon one of her Imprinters, to subject one of the Goddess’s chosen to your miserable lust. You will die for it, Ranger. Your defiance now will not save you. You have my solemn oath as an officer in the temple Guard. You will die for it.”

  Rozek stood up, her eyes still fixed in contempt on Kim’s huddled body, and then she turned and marched from the cell.

  *

  The main headquarters of the Guards were in Landfall, directly abutting the temple grounds. But unlike the high towers of its neighbor, the headquarters were a sprawl of low buildings, strewn around the central parade ground. Kim’s court-martial was held in a small room just off this open space, the charge of sacrilege ensuring that as a religious offence, it was the Guard command rather than the Rangers who had overall jurisdiction over the trial—a bias that was reflected in the composition of the adjudicating panel. Captain LeCoup, as Kim’s commanding officer, could not be denied her place, but the other two seats had gone to the Guards. One was a wide-eyed captain, who was clearly having great trouble remembering her brief, and the other, the presiding officer with casting vote, was Major Rozek.

  The trial did not take long. First, the cobbled-together list of charges was read out: sacrilege, attempted rape, and dishonorable conduct. Then came the evidence. Dispatches from the Rangers and the temple were read out, describing the circumstances that had brought the accused to Petersmine, followed by eyewitness reports of the stable incident. Smith’s account was given by proxy, as one would not expect a Sister to make a personal appearance at such a venue.

  The final part before moving on to questioning the accused was a written statement from Lynn, amounting to a full confession: that she had followed Lieutenant Ramon into the stables without any inducement, that she had accosted the Ranger, that she had been the first to speak, the first to make a move, and that the lieutenant had been too surprised to resist.

  The Guard captain on the panel was clearly very confused, but then it was obvious that it would take little to confuse her. Being asked to count above twelve when she had her shoes on would probably do it. Major Rozek was far more focused.

  “Do you agree with the Imprinter’s account?” Rozek glared disdainfully at Kim as she spoke.

  Kim hesitated for a second, out of the corner of her eye, catching Chip’s impatient twitching. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It is not totally in line with your first statement.”

  “I...I did not want to get the Imprinter into trouble.”

  “And you did not in any way entice the Imprinter into this rendezvous?”

  “It would have been pointless to plan a meeting to take place after she was due to leave town.” This time, Kim’s words were more confident.

  Rozek looked between her two fellow officers on the panel and tossed Lynn’s statement forward onto the desk with a studied casualness. “I guess it all comes down to how much faith we can put in this.”

  LeCoup faced the major with an expression of deadpan seriousness. “You are surely not accusing a blessed Imprinter of lying?”

  At the other end of the table, the Guard captain looked as if her brain had melted.

  Rozek leaned back, her lips pursed. Then her eyes flicked sharply toward Kim, shifting her attack. “But it would seem that the Imprinter had somehow become infatuated with you. Surely you must have encouraged her in this?”

  “No,” Kim said firmly. “Certainly not intentionally.”

  LeCoup slipped in before Rozek could respond. “From my report of the encounter with the snow lions, it can be seen that Lieutenant Ramon, at considerable personal risk, saved the Imprinter’s life. In fact, she would normally have been in line for a commendation. Maybe even an Imprinter might mistake gratitude for something else, without need of other encouragement?”

  Rozek’s face slipped into a blank stare. “Maybe. But I think we have exhausted the evidence, and all this is clearly a matter for the panel’s deliberation. Fellow officers, shall we adjourn?”

  The wait in the courtroom was long and hard, a full three hours wondering which way the airhead Guard captain would flutter, since the votes of the other two seemed already determined. Kim sat impassively at the front of the court, staring at the empty table. The room was packed behind her. Most of the squadron had squeezed in, and the rest were in the corridor outside. Chip had managed to get a place in the first row, just to the right of the chair for the accused, but Kim could not bring herself to turn around and meet her friend’s eyes. Not until she knew her fate, not until she knew for certain whether she was bound for the gallows.

  Kim’s eyes lost their focus on the room as she remembered her parents, her sisters. They also had not deserved to have their lives taken. Had she not been sent into town that day, she would have died along with them. That she had lived to see the last twelve years was due solely to luck, an undeserved gift from the Goddess. What right did she have to complain if her luck had run out and the gift was being recalled? Yet it was so hard not to feel bitter. The trial had been contrived to get a guilty verdict, the charge of sacrilege a crude ploy. It had hardly been mentioned during the proceedings. No evidence had been presented, but it had ensured that the majority of the panel were officers of proven piety, which meant Guards. A panel of Rangers would have thrown the charges out, most likely without even bothering to adjourn. And someone had clearly handpicked the Guard captain, in the hope she would blindly follow Rozek’s lead.

  The only hiccup in the plan was Lynn’s confession. Kim’s expression softened as she thought of it. Obviously there had to be a statement from the victim of the alleged assault. Kim wondered whether it was principle or political maneuvering that had stopped somebody from forging one. Undoubtedly, the Sisters would have put pressure on Lynn to say what they wanted her to, or failing that, to say as little as possible. Kim shifted carefully in her chair. Underneath her uniform, she was still bruised from the beatings she had received. She had no fears that similar treatment would have been dealt out to an Imprinter, but the Sisters would have used whatever powers of coercion they had. Whichever way the verdict went, it was good to know that Lynn had held true.

  The waiting dragged on. Outside the windows, the sun began to sink slowly toward the rooftops. Kim could not stop herself from wondering how many more sunsets she would see. But as soon as the three officers returned to the court, it was obvious that her neck, at least, was safe. Rozek’s face held an expression of tight, bound-in fury. Excited whispers leaped from Ranger to Ranger, rising to half-cheers from outside even before the verdict was announced.

  Rozek looked at Kim, holding her gaze while the courtroom settled to a muffled buzz. Only when total silence returned did she speak. “Lieutenant Ramon. This court has found you not guilty on the charges of sacrilege and attempted rape. However, the charge of dishonorable conduct has been upheld. The judgment of this court is that you be stripped of all rank, with a permanent bar on any future promotion. And as an example to others, you shall be flogged. One hundred lashes.” Rozek stopped, breathing harshly through flared nostrils and then cracking the gavel down on the desk. “Court dismissed.”

  *

  Sometimes it seemed to Lynn that life in the temple was an unending game of one step forward, two steps back.

  Smith was gone. Even before the temple authorities had decided what to do with Lynn, the ambitious Sister’s fate had been decided. The events in Petersmine, following so soon after the deaths of the Guards, had handed her political opponents the very weapon they needed. Smith was not even given the chance to unpack her belongings. Within hours of arriving at Landfall, she had been dispatched again to a minor temple as far from the center o
f power as it was possible to go. Her chances of returning were slight; her chances of sitting in the Chief Consultant’s chair were gone forever. Some small comfort could be had thinking of Sister Smith consigned to the sidelines, her dreams withering under the passage of time.

  But in Smith’s place had come Sister Dunsin, an acolyte of the Chief Consultant, equally as devout as Sister Smith but less arrogant and more worldly-wise. And with a sharper ear for irony. She was a large, broad-shouldered woman, but surprisingly agile, both physically and mentally. She watched Lynn with shrewd, disapproving eyes, while delivering an unrelenting discourse on the horrors of sin. She was to be Lynn’s mentor: to steer her feet from the path of wickedness, to teach her humility and obedience, to instruct her in the ways of the Goddess. Within two days of getting to Landfall, Lynn began to fear she had met her match.

  And still there was no word of Kim. The last news Lynn had received had been on the road to Landfall, a note smuggled via Sergeant Coppelli, and that had been vague enough to give rise to more anxiety than it alleviated. Lynn knew the Sisters were awaiting the outcome of the court-martial before they made their final judgment on her punishment. Or in Sister Dunsin’s words, the chance she would be given to demonstrate her remorse. But if Kim were hanged, nothing could ever begin to match the remorse she would feel. The waiting was hell, made worse by the knowledge that if the Sisters so decided, she might never know the outcome of Kim’s trial. She might take the doubt and guilt with her to the grave.

  On the fourth afternoon following her arrival in Landfall, Sister Dunsin summoned Lynn from the meditation room where she was supposed to be praying to Celaeno for forgiveness. The heavy woman, with her surprisingly light footsteps, appeared without warning. Lynn was instructed to follow her though the maze of interlinked courtyards that formed the sanctum at Landfall. For once Sister Dunsin was silent and gave no sermon. Lynn took that to be a bad sign, but she did not realize quite how bad until they reached their destination.