“What about my broken arm?”
“Who’s watching?”
Tevi scurried up the ladder. Jemeryl slipped the sling over her head to free her arm and followed on more cautiously, trying to ignore the squelchy ooze under her fingers.
A series of ladders and half landings, five in all, got Jemeryl to the top. The view surpassed even that from the roof of the Calequiral mansion, although it was a while before she could appreciate it. Her lungs were burning from the climb and the acrid air. She leaned her forehead against the balustrade, gasping. “You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Getting me climbing up and down all over the place.”
She felt Tevi pat her. “The exercise will do you good.”
Once she had got her breath back, Jemeryl raised her head. The temple precinct was laid out below, making judging the angles easy. Seven, or possibly eight, buildings would have been visible from the window where Ciamon had been standing.
On the east side were three stone-built blocks. The two nearest the bell tower were both long and low with tiled colonnades along one side. The third was separated from the others by a patch of garden. Despite the heat, plumes of smoke trailed away from its multiple chimneys. It clearly had an association with another nearby building. A stream of people trotted back and forth between them. Given the smoking chimneys and the time of day, Jemeryl’s bet was on these last two buildings being a kitchen and refectory.
A circular two-storey structure with a domed roof occupied the middle of the area. A ring of small windows ran around the top, but the sole opening on the ground floor was a wide double door. South of this stood a timber building that was clearly a stable. Jemeryl was sure it was the same one where she arrived as a prisoner with Gante and Taedias. Currently, two horses were tied to a post in its small central courtyard.
The largest building took up most of the western side of the area. Sentinels stood on guard outside the door, and as Jemeryl watched, a returning patrol marched in. The final possible building was behind it, but Jemeryl was doubtful whether it would have been visible to Ciamon from the window.
She pointed. “Do you think we need to worry about that one?”
Tevi wrinkled her nose in thought. “He might have been able to see a corner of it. But in that case, wouldn’t he have gone to another window with a better view?”
“Probably. So there are what…seven buildings we need to think about?”
“Yes.”
“Where do we start?”
Tevi pointed to one of the long buildings with the verandas. Even from the distance it was possible to see the carved bundle of wooden leaves hanging outside its door. “How about the infirmary?”
*
Tevi staggered up to the door and pounded on it, weakly but with desperation. She was alone. The risk that healers might want to examine Jemeryl’s supposedly broken arm was too much to chance. When there was no response, she slumped against the side of the entrance and then thumped the door again.
“What d’you want?” The voice from inside sounded hostile.
“My guts. I’ve eaten something bad. I need help.” Tevi moaned the words.
“What do you think we can do about it?”
“You’re healers, aren’t you? I saw the sign.”
The door opened a fraction, enough to show the face of a surly young man. “Magic don’t work no more. The healers can’t do nothing.”
“Please. I think I’m gonna die.”
“Are you deaf or stupid? The mag—”
“What is it, Esley?” The new voice was older and female.
“There’s some woman here. Reckons she’s sick and needs help. I’ve told her we can’t do nothing,” the young man, presumably named Esley, replied.
The door opened wider. Standing a little way back was an elderly woman dressed in the hooded brown gown of a follower of Perithalma, the god of healing magic.
Tevi appealed to her directly. “Please. I think it was a pie I ate yesterday. It didn’t taste too good but it was cheap. But I’ve been throwing up all night, and my bowels, they… You don’t want to know. Now my head feels like it’s gonna explode. Please, can’t you help?”
“As Esley said, my ability to work magic has gone, ever since Ciamon put his idol in the temple.” The healer’s distress and resentment were both clear.
“But herbs and potions. They still work, don’t they? What’d you have given someone before? Can’t you try that?”
The elderly healer hesitated and then stepped back. “Come in. I’ll see what I can do.”
Ignoring the resentful look from Esley, Tevi staggered after the healer down a hallway and into a small room.
“My name’s Zorathe. I’m a healer. Or I used to be. I don’t know what I…” The elderly woman was clearly ill at ease, almost to the point of tears. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks. That’s all I want.”
Zorathe pressed the back of her hand on Tevi’s forehead and then under her chin. “A temperature. Maybe.” Her eyes darted randomly around the room, like a cat watching flies. “I can’t see your aura. Can’t see anyone’s.” Her fingers probed Tevi’s throat. “Why do I bother? You might as well ask Esley. It’s all…” She pulled down on Tevi’s eyelid to examine the underside. Her face contorted in anguish and she backed off. “Why…I…”
Zorathe’s state of agitation had been growing throughout the examination. Now it had shot through the roof. For an instant, it even looked as if she might run away. Her hands clasped each other in a writhing knot and then she wiped her face, as if trying to force herself back under control. “I’ll get you a potion. It might help. I don’t know anymore.”
Zorathe fled the room. Had the loss of her powers undermined her sanity, or had she always been an emotional wreck? While waiting for her to return, Tevi took the chance for a quick scout around, but found nothing remotely matching Jemeryl’s description of an emanator. Could she exploit Zorathe’s unsteady mental state to conduct a wider search? How should she play it?
Tevi was still pondering this when Zorathe reappeared. The healer’s composure was, if anything, even more fragile than on her departure. The cup in her hand shook so violently that the milky contents were in danger of being spilt as she passed it to Tevi.
“Drink this.” Zorathe’s voice was a squeak.
Tevi raised the cup to her lips, but then stopped. Ciamon’s morphology was depriving the healer of not only her work, but also a part of herself—one of her senses. Zorathe was like someone struck suddenly blind or deaf. More than this, healing was not just a job, it was a calling. It was about saving lives, the most important work in the world.
Was it any wonder that Zorathe was taking the current situation so badly? And yet Tevi did wonder. Zorathe’s reaction seemed misdirected, and contained more fear than anger. Jemeryl had lost far more of herself without being reduced to panicked apology. Somewhere, deep in her guts, Tevi felt a ripple of disquiet hardening. She looked at Zorathe. The healer was watching intently, but her eyes fixed on the cup where it touched Tevi’s lips, and the expression on her face one of conflict, escalating into horror.
Tevi lowered the cup. “What’s in this?”
Zorathe jerked back. The direction of her gaze lifted the few inches from Tevi’s mouth to her eyes. Now there was no mistaking the anxiety, the dread, and the guilt. “It’s…it’s…I…” She took a step back and then her demeanour collapsed completely. Tears tumbled down her face. “You’ve taken everything already. I don’t know any more than the others. I’m sorry. Oh, Perithalma forgive me. I’m sorry.” Zorathe crumpled against the wall behind her. Her hands covered her face.
Tevi abandoned the pretence of food poisoning. She put down the cup and approached the sobbing healer. “Who’s taken everything?”
“You sentinels. When you were here before.”
“Why do you think I’m a sentinel?”
“You can’t pre…” Zorat
he was sobbing too hard to finish.
“I swear. I’m not a sentinel.”
“The disguise. Dyeing your skin. I could tell. You haven’t got your eyelids right.”
So much for leaving Jemeryl and her fake splint behind. “If I was a sentinel, why would I need a disguise?”
“You’re trying to trick me. To catch me out. But I can’t tell you what you want to know.”
Tevi hesitated, but Zorathe had seen through her disguise and knew she was not an ordinary pilgrim. “Calm down. I’m not a sentinel. In fact, I suspect we’re on the same side.”
Still quivering, Zorathe raised her head and peered at Tevi. “Who are you?”
“I’m working for the Coven. We want to destroy the morphology that stops magic working.”
Zorathe’s eyes widened as much as her swollen lids allowed. “Is that possible?”
“I wouldn’t be here risking my neck if it wasn’t.” Tevi glanced at the cup. “You put poison in that, didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I’m sworn to Perithalma to save life at all cost but…but…the sentinels…” Zorathe’s sobs eased, although fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
Tevi put a supportive arm around her. “What did they do?”
“They came here, took our supplies of herbs and potions. They wanted to know how they worked, how we know which ones to use. But all of us, we’d lost the ability to see what was needed. We tried to explain, but the sentinels accused us of not wanting to share our knowledge. They said we were deliberately holding out on them. They tried beating us into telling them. But we couldn’t.”
“They hurt you?”
“Not me. I was the oldest.” Zorathe’s distress increased. “But Gyde, Palry. Ronel died and the sentinels still didn’t believe us. Finally Ciamon went. Ascended into heaven, so the story is. Sefriall took over at the temple and the sentinels lost interest in us. All the other healers grasped the chance to flee, but I couldn’t desert Perithalma. Esley stayed to look after me. He’s a good boy. But when you came and I… I’m sorry. I was frightened.” Zorathe wiped her eyes.
“I understand. It’s all right.” Tevi spared only a glance for the cup of poison. Maybe, if she had drunk it, she might not be quite so forgiving, but Sefriall, not Zorathe, was her true enemy.
Zorathe’s hands tightened on Tevi’s arm. “Can you really bring the magic back?”
“I’m sure we can, but we need information.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“You don’t know what I’m after.”
“I’m just—”
Tevi cut in. “For starters, did Ciamon leave anything here in the infirmary for you to take care of?”
Zorathe looked confused, then shook her head. “We wouldn’t have done any service for the one who had reviled Perithalma.”
“He might have made it seem like it was…” Tevi shrugged. “I don’t know what he could have said. It mightn’t have seemed important, but is there anything here that Ciamon sent?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Good.” Tevi smiled. “Believe me, this helps. It means we can ignore the whole infirmary. Now, what can you tell me about the other buildings around here?”
“You really want to know wh…” Zorathe’s voice faded out.
Tevi nodded.
Zorathe frowned, before apparently deciding to take Tevi at her word. “To the north, that’s the kitchen. We used to share the herb garden with them. But we’ve no use for the herbs. The cooks can have them all. The other building like this, over there”—she gestured—“with the veranda, that used to be a second ward of the infirmary.”
“Nothing from Ciamon is stored there?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have anything to do with it now.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t need it. We aren’t treating any patients. The sentinels have taken it over as barracks. Who knows what they’ve put in it?”
“When did they move in?”
“A month ago.”
“So that was after Ciamon died?”
“Died?”
“You didn’t believe the ascended into heaven story, did you?”
“You’re sure?”
“He was murdered.” In answer to the shocked look, Tevi added. “Not by me, or anyone with me, but I witnessed his death.”
Zorathe looked pained. “Perithalma forgive me, but I feel no regret.”
Tevi returned to her questions. “The other buildings. The circular one. What’s that?”
“The basilica. It’s where the convocation used to meet, but there’s no convocation anymore. To the south of it is the stables. That’s the one with the courtyard in the middle. The big block to the west is the original barracks. Once there was just a few ceremonial temple guards. Now Sefriall has them overflowing the place. There isn’t enough space in the old barracks. I told you they’ve taken over our ward.”
“Anywhere else?”
“Yes. They’ve moved into the junior acolytes quarters as well.”
“Is that near here?”
“It’s the square one on the other side of the basilica.”
Tevi nodded as she positioned it on her mental map. It was the building she had already dismissed as being out of sight of the window. Only one more was left to account for. “The building next to the kitchen is the refectory, right?”
“Yes. It used to be for the priests. But it’s another one the sentinels have taken over for their own use. Nobody else eats there now.” Zorathe’s frown returned. “Are you sure this helps?”
“More than you would think possible.”
*
The patrol of sentinels marched through the dusty square, ignoring Tevi and Jemeryl, sitting on the ground in the shade of a palm tree.
Jemeryl waited until they were well out of earshot. “Zorathe was very helpful.”
“Once she’d stopped trying to poison me.”
“I can’t believe a healer would do that.”
“It’s understandable when you think what she’d been through with the sentinels.”
Tevi’s words sparked off an uncomfortable train of thought for Jemeryl. “I didn’t mean…” Jemeryl chewed her lip. Healers were revered—the only magic users universally trusted. What sort of insanity would motivate anyone to assault them? “When I pushed Ci about medicine, I’d been trying to help. To get him to think. I didn’t imagine it would end up like that. Not with people getting hurt…killed.”
“You aren’t the only one to have good intentions go awry.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.”
Tevi’s arm slipped around Jemeryl’s waist. “The blame doesn’t lie with you. And even if it did, sitting here wailing won’t help. Be positive. We’re making progress.”
“We know what the buildings are—or were.”
“And we can discount most. The kitchens wouldn’t be a safe place to leave something. Too chaotic and with too many casual workers trotting in and out. Anything left there would be at risk of being used as firewood or chucked out as rubbish.”
“I guess the same applies for the refectory.”
Tevi nodded. “And the stables. In fact, the only real candidate is the old barracks. The sentinels’ discipline is awful. I’d be embarrassed to command them. But their barracks are guarded.”
“They have more than one barrack block now.” Jemeryl paused. “Although since the infirmary ward didn’t become one until after Ci was dead, he can’t have left the emanator there.”
“Right. And the basilica was in disuse from the time he took over.”
“I’m not sure we can dismiss it, but I agree the barracks is the place to start. Except getting in to look around won’t be easy.”
“It will be, if I disguise myself as a sentinel.”
“You think you can just put a red cloak on and saunter in there?”
“Pretty much. No one will challenge me, because no one knows what’s supposed to be happening
. The sentinels haven’t got a clue about being soldiers. You can tell from the way they stand guard. The way they react. The way they marched blindly through this square just now.”
“Shame we didn’t keep the helmets and cloaks we took before.”
“Believe me, it won’t be hard to get me fresh ones.”
“And for me.”
Tevi shook her head. “I’ll go in alone.”
“No, you won’t.”
“It’s—”
“You’ve already had a healer trying to poison you. I’m not letting you face soldiers alone.”
“Pretend soldiers.”
“Pretend soldiers with real swords. I’m going in with you.”
“You’ll be too conspicuous with your arm in a splint.”
“Soldiers get wounded. I thought it was an occupational risk.”
“Wounded soldiers get noticed.”
“Then I’ll take the splint off. We’ll find another way to hide my amulet.”
Tevi sighed. “You’re not going to give in on this, are you?”
“No.”
Tevi leaned her head back against the tree trunk, clearly thinking. “What are you like at archery?”
“The last time I played with a bow I was about six years old.”
“Really?” Tevi smiled. “I think that makes you perfectly qualified to be an archer in the sentinels.”
*
The bracer was the bulkiest one Tevi had been able to find, and the red tunic was designed for someone with considerably longer arms than Jemeryl’s. Tevi folded back the sleeve and then fastened the bracer to hold it in place, covering Jemeryl’s amulet. As a final touch she tugged out the material and adjusted the set of the folds to hide the outline. Tevi smiled. It ought to work.
Jemeryl frowned and then flicked the reinforced leather plate with her fingernails. “Shouldn’t this shield bit be on the outside of my arm?”
“No.”
“What’s it supposed to achieve there?”
Tevi was amazed. “You really have never shot a proper bow, have you?”
“Why should I? Magic is far more effective if I want to flatten something at a distance.”
The High Priest and the Idol Page 25
