Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (44 page)

“They were trying to kill us.” Josiah sagged against Sar’s leg. “If you hadn’t come—”

“Thank the Mother I did.” Vigorre scrambled to his feet and extended a hand to Josiah.

Josiah accepted it and rose with a groan. “It must have been the Purifiers. They can’t have been just thieves; we were lured out here, and the Matriarch’s soldier—” He rubbed his ear and the back of his neck. That’s where the man’s blow had been aimed; it could easily have taken off his head. The thought gave him a queer dizzy feeling. If Vigorre hadn’t yelled, Josiah would be standing before the Mother right now. “I’ve got to warn Elkan. If the Matriarch sends out soldiers quick enough, maybe she can catch the ones that ran. Or at least we can trace them back with a window to confirm where their orders came from.”

Vigorre froze and swallowed hard, looking around at the carnage. “You can’t. The Matriarch will never release Father and the others from the dungeon if she believes the Purifiers were behind an attempt on your life.”

Josiah scowled at him and put his arm around Sar’s neck. “Yoran Lirolla deserves to rot in prison for this.”

“Maybe Keeper Yoran does, but I’m sure Father had nothing to do with it.” Vigorre turned to Josiah with desperate eyes. “If he isn’t released from the dungeon soon, what’s going to happen to Alna and Bravenorre and the twins? And Nathenarre and the baby? I have to think about them.”

“We can’t keep this a secret.” Josiah gestured at the sprawled bodies. “It’s not like we can get rid of them.”

“Fights break out in the Beggars’ Quarter all the time; it will be assumed it was a private quarrel that got ugly. No one knows what happened but us. If we don’t tell anyone, they’ll never know, and the Matriarch will release Father and the others as soon as she feels like she’s made her point.”

“I can’t lie to Elkan!” Josiah swallowed. It would be a relief not to have to tell his master how their enemies had tricked him so easily, how he’d disobeyed him and gone out into the city with strangers, how his careless impulsivity and lack of judgement had once again nearly gotten himself and Sar killed.

Vigorre must have sensed that he was wavering. “Please. It’s not only Father, but Kevessa’s uncle, too. And all the others who’re only guilty of believing what Keeper Yoran showed them. Do you think the Matriarch will spare any of them if she thinks her precious wizards were threatened? She threw her own husband in the dungeon!”

Josiah was afraid he was right. “So you’re saying we should go back to the palace like nothing happened?”

“If anyone asks, you went to check on Nathenarre and found out it was a false alarm, her labor had stopped on its own. I’ll tell her to back up your story if necessary.”

Josiah chewed on his lip. “Probably no one noticed we were gone. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving, or where I was going.”

“See? It will be easy.”

“But I have to warn the others! The Purifiers aren’t going to quit trying just because one attempt failed.” He clenched his fists. “We’re in more danger than ever.”

“You’ve known about the danger all along. What precautions can you take that you aren’t already?” Vigorre stepped forward and gripped Josiah’s arms. “If the Matriarch learns about this, she’ll be so angry she’ll do something rash. Maybe even order all the prisoners executed. I can’t let that happen.”

For a moment his fingers were so tight and his expression so desperate Josiah almost feared him. But then he shook his head, released Josiah, and stepped back. “I’m sorry.”

Josiah rubbed his arms. “It’s all right. It’s your father; of course you’re scared.” He walked over to the dead swordsman and stared down at him. “There’s not a mark on him. All the damage is inside his head. It’s going to be obvious he was killed by the Mother’s power.”

Vigorre joined him and studied the body. With a grimace he drew his sword and cut a slice across the man’s throat. Only a little blood oozed out of the dead flesh. “There. It’s not perfect, but nobody’s going to be looking too closely.”

He glanced sidelong at Josiah as he went to attend to the other two that Sar had killed. “So, you can use the Mother’s power to kill?”

“In self-defense. It’s in the Law.” Josiah swallowed. Feeling those men’s lives torn away, knowing he was in part responsible, had been horrifying, but at the same time he’d rejoiced fiercely to live while they died. He had no doubt they would have succeeded in killing both him and Sar if the donkey hadn’t acted so quickly and decisively. Sar wouldn’t have been able to do it if it was against the Mother’s will.

“I guess I remember reading that part.” Vigorre gave one of the dead assassins a thrust through the heart, the other a slash across the belly that let the man’s innards spill out. Josiah’s stomach flopped, but it wasn’t as if Vigorre could cause the dead men any further pain. “That’s another reason for keeping this quiet. I doubt most people would care about the distinction. They’d just see that a demon had slaughtered their countrymen. It would play right into Keeper Yoran’s hands.”

Josiah wanted to deny it, but he was so tired. Vigorre was probably right. He leaned against Sar.
Will you let me keep it a secret? To protect Vigorre’s father and Kevessa’s uncle?

It does not involve misuse of the Mother’s power nor abuse of your position as wizard. Therefore it is a matter for your free will. I am not required to stop or censure you.
For all the neutrality of his words, Sar’s mental tone left Josiah no doubt that he strongly disapproved. But their bond wasn’t at risk, which was what mattered.

“All right,” he told Vigorre. “I won’t tell Elkan, or anyone else.”

“Thank you.” Vigorre grasped Josiah’s hand and met his gaze with shadowed eyes. He turned, surveyed the dead bodies one more time, then headed back toward the palace.

Josiah followed him, Sar at his heels. “I didn’t know you could use a sword.”

Vigorre shrugged. “All the sons of the aristocracy are trained in fencing. I learned what I was taught, but I wasn’t enthusiastic. I never progressed beyond competent.”

“You were competent enough back there!” Josiah grinned at him, but Vigorre’s face was set. A thought struck him. “Was this your first real fight? I mean, have you ever, you know, killed anyone? Before?”

“No.” Vigorre kept his eyes focused forward.

Josiah shivered. “Me neither.” He wanted to talk about it, to find out if Vigorre was experiencing any of the same confused and conflicting reactions he was, to ease his distress by sharing it with someone who would understand. But the closed look on the young Keeper’s face made it clear Vigorre wasn’t interested.

He looked away. “Um, thank you. For saving my life, I mean.”

“You’re welcome,” Vigorre said gravely.

There seemed nothing else to say.

Getting back to his room was easy. The guards at the main gate returned their hails with perfunctory nods and let them in. The corridors were still quiet. Elkan’s door was shut; Josiah didn’t know whether that meant he was still with the Matriarch or that he’d gone to bed.

When they reached his door Vigorre spoke quietly. “I’ll head down to the dungeon and see if I can talk them into letting me in.” He hesitated. “In a few days, once Father and the others are safe, you could tell Master Elkan.”

Josiah gave him a wan smile. “I’d better not. I’d get in huge trouble for lying. And you’re right; we already know the Purifiers are out to get us. This doesn’t change anything.”

“All right then. The attack never happened.” Vigorre nodded.

“What attack?” Josiah grinned wryly.

Vigorre returned it and raised a hand in farewell.

Josiah went mechanically about the routines of getting ready for bed, brushing Sar, putting out fresh water and hay, washing up. After he climbed into bed he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He wanted desperately to talk over what had happened with Elkan. He kept remembering the moment when power had flowed from him to rip a man’s brain apart and send him to the Mother long before his time.

Elkan knew what it was like. Josiah thought back to his master’s dark mood following the execution of the child molester in Jianolan. He hadn’t ever realized it before, but now it struck him. Elkan hadn’t just stood by passively as Sar slowed Nedon’s heart to a standstill. Through the Mother’s power he’d felt and seen and heard and smelled and tasted the man’s death. And he’d kept his hand pressed to Sar’s back the whole time.

He remembered his master’s quiet words.
I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve never had to use—to allow the Mother’s power to be used through you—to kill. I hope you never do.

But now he had, and he did understand, at least a little better, why Elkan had been so reluctant to let the assassin Tharan be executed. That death, like the ones tonight, might be acceptable under the Mother’s justice, but that didn’t make them any less terrible.

Life is precious. It’s the Mother’s gift, and once it’s gone, we can’t get it back. Death is always there, always waiting, and it’s forever, but life is only ours for a little while…

He couldn’t go to Sar for comfort, because Sar was untroubled by his actions. Without free will of his own, he could be serenely confident that anything permitted by the Law, anything within the Mother’s will, was right. But Josiah was troubled by the very human ability to see that it was far more complicated than that.
Just because we can do something with her power, doesn’t mean we should.

But his promise to Vigorre to keep the attack secret meant he couldn’t seek more of his master’s wise words to help him reconcile his wildly conflicting emotions. Even if what he said couldn’t help, at least his warm presence would have kept Josiah from feeling so alone.

It was a long time before he fell asleep.

Twenty-Seven

N
irel sniffled. She glanced warily past Vigorre to where Elkan and Tobi stood, but their attention was fixed on the Matriarch as she emerged onto a balcony to address the gathered crowd. Half of Ramunna was gathered in the broad paved space outside the palace, looking eagerly upward.

Nirel turned away, surreptitiously pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, and blew her nose as quietly as she could. Of all the times to catch a cold! She couldn’t let the wizards find out. Any excuse she made to decline healing would seem odd to them.

The Matriarch beckoned imperiously. Guards escorted Vigorre’s father, shackled at wrists and ankles, face and embroidered robes filthy from his time in the dungeon, to stand before her. She glared at him, but there was a smugness to her manner that told Nirel she was pleased with this outcome. “Keeper Emirre, tell the people of Ramunna what the Mother has revealed to you.”

Emirre inclined his head deeply and turned to address the crowd. He modulated his trained voice to a tone of humble supplication, but it still carried to every ear. “During my imprisonment I spent many hours in deep prayer and meditation, seeking the Mother’s will. And she answered me. She showed me I was wrong. The wizards are her true servants. Any evidence I saw to the contrary was a deception. The document attributed to the Holy Yashonna is a forgery. I renounce my assertion that the wizards’ familiars are demons and withdraw any demand that her majesty reject their services or banish them from Ramunna.” He turned to the Matriarch and knelt, bowing his head. “Forgive me, your majesty, for daring to defy you. I swear my renewed allegiance to you.”

She inclined her head magnanimously. “The wizards have the full support of the Temple?”

“They do, your majesty.”

“And if I allow you to retain your position as First Keeper, you will turn all its power and resources to protecting them and advancing their mission?”

“I will, your majesty.”

“And you will eject from the Temple hierarchy any Keeper who refuses to renounce the false doctrine known as ‘Purifier’?”

A shocked gasp went through the crowd. Emirre bowed his head deeper. “I will, your majesty.”

She laid her hands on his head, then stepped back with a pleased smile. “Rise, Keeper Emirre. I pardon you for all offenses against the throne of Ramunna. Return to your Temple and cleanse it of those who cling to heresy.” She gestured, and guards came forward to remove his shackles.

He rubbed his wrists, bowed to her, and withdrew into the palace. The crowd murmured in reaction.

Josiah turned to Elkan. “That’s even better than we hoped. Do you think the Mother really did talk to him?”

Elkan lifted one shoulder, continuing to study the Matriarch. “Perhaps, but I doubt it. More likely Keeper Emirre calculated which side had the advantage and threw his lot in with those he considered most likely to emerge victorious.”

Nirel didn’t let her satisfaction show on her face. Elkan had drawn the conclusion he was supposed to. He hadn’t noticed how Emirre had carefully reiterated all the Purifiers points as he denied them. The people of Ramunna weren’t as cynical as their leaders; they wouldn’t change their allegiance so easily. Emirre would be free to pursue their secret agenda, and at the right time the people would be ready to support them.

After a few minutes, the curtain behind the Matriarch stirred again, and another of the prisoners was led forth, a professor from the University. He also retracted his accusation of the wizards, swore loyalty to the Matriarch, and was released. One by one all the rest who’d been arrested did the same. Kevessa gave a little sob of relief when her uncle’s shackles came off.

Nirel studied her while her attention was distracted. She was clutching Nina as if the conversation two nights ago had never taken place, but she had an undercurrent of anxiety Nirel thought was due to more than worry for her uncle. Nirel grimaced. She was still angry at Vigorre for spilling their secret. If they’d persuaded Kevessa they were telling the truth and she confronted the other wizards, it could ruin everything.

At last Yoran Lirolla was led out. Nirel thought he did a good job projecting just the right combination of humiliation and unquenched defiance.

The Matriarch regarded him with open satisfaction. “Yoran Lirolla, what have you to say for yourself?”