Solanda bowed her head. "You know that I swore my life to Rugar," she said.
"I've always thought that a hasty and ill-conceived idea," the Shaman said.
"But you knew?" Solanda asked.
"I suspected. A woman of your talent does not spy easily. Nor does she come on foolish missions without just cause."
"If he comes for Arianna —"
"I trust you will tell him to leave," the Shaman said.
Solanda's thumb kept moving on Arianna's soft skin. The one worry she had, the one she had never spoken of, had to come out now. The Shaman would tell her what to do. "He owns me," Solanda said.
"Does he?" The Shaman turned in her chair, leaning toward Solanda. Now her entire body was in shadow. "It seems to me to be a feline concept, this concept of owning. Fey do not own each other."
"They do when they vow. The Black King owns you."
"The Black King protects me, along with the other Shamans. It is a different arrangement."
Solanda nodded. She had been very young when she pledged herself to Rugar. In the beginning it hadn't seemed like much. But now, it was everything. It affected her entire life.
"You can't have loyalties to two people," the Shaman said. "Either you are loyal to Arianna or you are loyal to Rugar."
"Rugar saved my life," Solanda said.
"And you saved Arianna's. I think the debt is repaid."
"But I pledged him my loyalty after that," Solanda said.
"Have you given it to him?" the Shaman asked.
"For decades."
"Then declare the debt paid. Move on."
"But will the Powers allow that?"
"The Powers allow nothing and everything," the Shaman said. "You tell me you've saved Arianna's life a dozen times since her birth. Rugar saved you once. Does Arianna owe you her life?"
"Arianna is too young to make that decision. I owe her my powers." Solanda held the baby fist tightly.
"Based on what? She is too young to hold anything over you."
"We are sisters under the skin," Solanda said.
"You and Rugar are not."
"But I wouldn't be here without him," Solanda said.
"Really?" the Shaman asked. "Or did he make it seem that way?"
Solanda frowned. She remembered that afternoon --the dogs, the soldiers, the blood everywhere. And Rugar swooping down like a god to save her.
Someone had ordered the soldiers into place.
Someone had brought the dogs.
Rugar?
He would have known how to gain a Shape-shifter's loyalty. In those days his Vision was strong. He might have even known the plan would work.
"He wasn't that devious then," Solanda said.
"Rugar was devious from the beginning," the Shaman said. "He is part of the Black King's family. None of them work in a straight-forward fashion."
"Such accusations," Solanda said. "This babe is too young to be devious."
"Is she?" the Shaman asked. "She has tied you to her more effectively than any other being has ever been able to."
"Her mind isn't formed yet. How can she manipulate me?"
"Coulter's mind wasn't formed yet either, but he left a trail for his parents to follow that was so clear you were able to pick it up a year later."
"Are you saying I shouldn't trust Arianna?" Solanda couldn't believe that. How could a person not trust a newborn?
"I'm saying love her. Trust her. And keep her away from her grandfather. From both of her grandfathers --Rugar and Rugad."
"And if I can't?"
The Shaman stood. She seemed taller than she had when she came into the room. "Then the destruction that follows will be on your shoulders."
FORTY
Lord Stowe flanked him on one side, Monte on the other. They wouldn't let him into the Tabernacle alone. Nicholas thought it odd; he was King, yet he was taking orders from his own men. They threatened to keep him prisoner in the palace if he didn't listen to them, and by the looks on their faces, he realized they were completely serious.
Rather than risk another schism within his community, he allowed them to come with him.
He was actually glad for the protection.
The gates to the Tabernacle were open. The place looked harmless in the daytime. Hard to believe the substance that killed his wife was made within.
The courtyard was covered with painted tile depicting scenes for the Roca's life, and from Rocaanism's history. Nicholas had never bothered to study them. He had never bothered to spend much time on Rocaanism at all. Matthias always saw Nicholas's disinterest as something aimed against the church, but in his boyhood, Nicholas had seen no point in understanding the church. He had figured it was constant, believed it would never changed. He had not thought that something like this would happen.
Nicholas's cape fluttered behind him as he walked. They had left their horses outside the gate — Stowe believed the more surprise they had the better — and they walked the rest of the way. Nicholas's boots clicked on the tile. His sword slapped against his leg, and his favorite dirk was tucked in his right boot. He wore his finest linen shirt and the best breeches he owned.
This was an outfit that Jewel had loved.
He needed her beside him for this, even if it was just in spirit.
As they passed the Auds by the main door, the Auds gasped. "Highness," one of the Auds said. "We need to announce you."
Nicholas ignored him.
"You'll announce no one," Monte said.
The inside of the Tabernacle was dark. Candles burned on tables, and the antechamber smelled of wax. Swords hung, point down, from the walls. The ornate chairs beside the tables were meant for decoration, not sitting. Some of the chairs still bore the damage the Fey had done to them years before. The tiles below Nicholas's feet also bore scars of that day, but those scars were seared in from burning Fey flesh.
A Danite blocked the entrance into the rest of the Tabernacle. His hands were pressed together in a praying position in front of his chest. "Highness," the Danite said, and bowed. "We were not expecting you."
"Where's the Rocaan?" Stowe asked, leaving off the Danite's honorific.
"The Rocaan is seeing no one. Perhaps Elder Porciluna —"
"The Rocaan will see the King," Nicholas snapped.
The Danite bobbed his head. "Of course. He's in the worship room. Allow me to lead you."
The Danite took them through corridors that wound around the servant's chapel, past portraits of the Rocaans, and down an ancient stairway. There was no railing, and the stone walls crumbled as Nicholas placed a hand on them. Torches burned from their pegs, and only the Aud guards at the base of the stairs reassured him that this was not a dungeon.
The air smelled musty, and an old water trail limed the floor. The Auds leaning against the door stood at attention when they saw the Danite.
"The Rocaan asked not to be disturbed," the first guard said to the Danite.
"Then the Rocaan will not get his wish," Nicholas said, pushing past Stowe and Monte, past the Danite, to the guards. "Open the door."
"He wished —"
"It's the King, fool," the Danite's whisper echoed in the small space.
The Aud gave the Danite a panicked look. The other Aud pushed on the door handle and shoved the door open. Stowe grabbed Nicholas's arm so that he wouldn't go through first, but Nicholas shook him off.
"Matthias," Nicholas said as he walked through the door, "You're a coward."
Matthias was kneeling in front of a small altar. A ceremonial sword hung from one wall. The slitted windows had a view of the Cardidas. This room must have been where the old Rocaan had first seen the Fey.
Matthias turned at the sound of Nicholas's voice. "This is a worship room," Matthias said. "Not for unbelievers."
"Then I suggest you leave, holy man," Nicholas said. He glanced at Stowe and Monte, who flanked him again. "Wait for me outside."
"Sire, he could be dangerous," Monte said.
"The
n let him be. Wait for me."
"Yes, sire," Stowe said. He and Monte backed out. The door closed behind them.
The room was chill and the smell of mildew was strong here. Matthias's blond curls hung limply around his face. He looked as if he had not slept for days.
He braced one hand on the altar and slowly got to his feet. "You have no place here."
"I have more place than you," Nicholas said. He put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I could run you through now and the entire Kingdom would think I was justified."
"Would they?" Matthias asked. "Too many believed that you should never have united with the Fey. Look at your son."
"You should see my daughter. She is more powerful than any Fey," Nicholas said.
Matthias frowned. "Daughter?"
Nicholas nodded. "Yes, daughter. The Fey saved the child, even though they couldn't save Jewel. And if you so much as touch her, I will have your head."
"Idle threats, Nicholas," Matthias said. He raised himself to his full height, nearly a head taller than Nicholas. Matthias was older — Nicholas's father's age — but still young enough to do harm if he had to.
"I don't make idle threats," Nicholas said. "I'm in no position to."
"The child will need to be Blessed in the Roca," Matthias said.
"And my wife needed burial, but I would not let any of your kind near her."
Matthias crossed his arms in front of his chest. He walked to the window, deliberately turning his back, as if taunting Nicholas. If the window were just a bit wider, Nicholas would have reacted the taunt and pushed Matthias through it.
"You're free now, Nicky, to chose the right kind of wife." Matthias spoke softly.
"Are you telling me you killed her on purpose?" Nicholas asked.
"No," Matthias said. "It was God's will that she died. I'm merely saying that now you can go back to the business of governing Blue Isle. Set her children aside, and do the right thing."
"I was doing the right thing," Nicholas said. "Just as I am doing the right thing now. I came to warn you, Matthias."
"You need me, Nicholas. Threatening me is not constructive."
"If I thought it best that you die, I'd kill you without warning," Nicholas said. He reached into his boot and pulled his dirk. The blade glistened in the candlelight. He walked to Matthias and pushed the tip of the blade into his back. "I could kill you now."
"Then do it," Matthias said. "You'd guarantee that your friends the Fey would take over Blue Isle."
Nicholas's hand was shaking. So simple. One quick movement and Matthias would be dead.
But Nicholas had more to think of than himself. He had the Isle. He had Arianna. What would happen to her if he killed the Rocaan? Most of the Islanders would not understand his action, and they would turn against him.
They would turn against her.
"I came here," he said, leaving the tip of the knife in place, "to prove to you that I am a better Rocaanist than you are."
"By forgiving me?" Matthias's voice held disdain. "You can't forgive me when I did you a favor, Nicky."
Nicholas tightened his grip on his dirk. He clenched his teeth and thought of Arianna. He had to be subtle. He had to take care of things in a different manner than he would if he were not King.
"You did me no favor, Matthias. I loved my wife, and my marriage to her brought peace to Blue Isle. We were going to work together to find my father's killer. You ruined all that."
Matthias started to speak, but Nicholas grabbed his arm, bracing himself.
"It's my turn," Nicholas said. He stood so close that he could feel the river breeze through the window. Matthias's curls trembled in the wind. "I am going to prove to you that I am a good Rocaanist because I know that you killed her, Matthias. I know that you deliberately covered that cloth with holy water. You don't believe in God's will. You don't believe in God. The Fey frighten you, and Jewel frightened you. You got revenge that afternoon, for my father who was one of your few friends, and for the old Rocaan who put you in this position in the first place. You figured you could use Jewel's death to warn the Fey, to remind them that you had the power to kill them."
Matthias remained completely still. His long angular body was pressed against the window sill, and he stared straight ahead. Nicholas's grip on Matthias's arm was so tight that Nicholas's fingers actually hurt. It took all of Nicholas's strength to keep his right hand steady, to keep the dirk pressed lightly against Matthias's back.
"The Fey have tried to kill you once," Nicholas said.
"The boy was Islander."
"The boy was once a Fey prisoner. The Fey have many tricks, Matthias. They have targeted you. They know that you acted without my approval. They will succeed. They killed my father and he was well guarded. You use Auds, and the Elders are opposed to protecting you, saying you defiled a religious ceremony. Which you did."
"It was an accident," Matthias said.
"I thought it was God's will," Nicholas said.
"Sometimes they are the same thing." Matthias's voice quavered.
"I'm sure the faithful would love to hear you say that," Nicholas said. "Unlike you, I will wait as the Words Written and Unwritten bid us to do. I will allow you to receive your punishment after you die, when the Roca, the Holy One, and God show you all the pain you have caused in this world. See? I do remember the teachings. And unlike you, I act on them."
Matthias blinked. Once. It was the first time since Nicholas had put the knife to his back. "Then why are you here?"
"If not to kill you?" Nicholas pulled back on Matthias's arm just a little. "You have no faith in anything, do you, Matthias?"
Matthias swallowed, but did not reply.
"I'm here to warn you, Matthias." Nicholas spoke softly, putting his mouth near Matthias's ear. "Because of your actions, we may go to war again. We need holy water. We need the Secrets in order to survive. See, unlike you, I believe God gave us holy water and the Secrets so that we could use them to help us become better people, to help us resolve our differences quickly instead of prolonging them through needless acts of violence."
"Spare me the speeches, Nicky," Matthias said.
"I am your King, now," Nicholas said. "Only my father and Jewel had the right to call me Nicky. You may call me Your Highness or Sire. To use my given name without my permission is a crime against the state."
"I thought you were going to be a good and kind ruler," Matthias said.
"I thought so too. But you killed any chance of that days ago," Nicholas said.
"Just tell me what you want." Matthias sounded brave but his entire body was trembling. The point of the knife had pierced his clothing and was probably scratching skin.
"I want you to think about this," Nicholas said. "The Words Written and Unwritten say that the Rocaan's first thoughts should be of God. His second should be of his people, and his third should be of the heavens themselves."
"Don't quote the Words to me," Matthias said.
"Someone needs to." Nicholas pushed slightly on the knife. Matthias straightened. A small bit of pain, then, nothing more. "Because you're not thinking of anyone except yourself, Matthias. If you thought of God, you wouldn't use him as an excuse for murder. If you thought of the heavens, you would trust in the Roca's heir in this world. And if you thought of the people whose lives are entrusted to you, you would share the Secrets as the 50th Rocaan did, in case you were killed."
"If I had done that, you would have killed me by now."
The hilt of the knife bit into Nicholas's palm. One quick twist of the wrist and Matthias would be mortally wounded. They were alone in the worship room.
Jewel would do it in a heartbeat.
But Jewel had been Fey. Vengeance was her way. It was not Nicholas's, at least not directly. If he killed Matthias, he would create more problems than he solved.
"No," Nicholas said. "The Fey will kill you for me. The question is will you leave us with no protection when you die or will you ensure our future, take c
are of your people as you were supposed to?"
"You sound so certain of what I should do," Matthias said.
"I am certain," Nicholas replied.
"Has the Holy One spoken to you? Do you hear the still, small voice?" Matthias's tone almost mocked him.
Fey 02 - Changeling Page 43
