Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (63 page)

“I don’t know what the wizards told you I did, but they were lying. They’ve been holding me captive so I couldn’t tell you what I discovered. But first, please, you’re still pregnant, right?”

The Matriarch’s expression went even colder. “I lost the child this morning.”

“Oh, no.” Nirel sagged, burying her face in her hands. “I’m too late.”

The Matriarch strode close and grabbed Nirel’s chin, forcing her head up. “I think you’d better tell me your story from the beginning.”

Nirel nodded as much as she could against the firm grip. When the Matriarch released her, she poured out the tale she’d prepared. “A week ago, on Firstday, it was right after Keeper Emirre and the others publicly apologized”—the Matriarch gave a curt nod—“I started to feel like I was getting sick.” She looked down, biting her lip. “I guess you’ve heard that I’m Faithful?”

“Yes.” The Matriarch’s voice betrayed no emotion of any sort.

Nirel gave a quick shrug. “I couldn’t let the wizards find out, or they’d have wanted to heal me. So I went to tell them I was leaving early. All three of them, Elkan, Josiah and Kevessa, were huddled together, talking very quietly. They didn’t notice I was there. It seemed strange to me, so I snuck closer. Elkan was telling the other two that when they helped him tend you, they had to be very careful not to let on if they suspected what sex the baby was. He said he had to be the one to tell you. Josiah asked him why.” Nirel wrinkled her nose. “He said it was all part of ‘the otter’s plan.’ I didn’t understand that part. I mean, none of the familiars is an otter.”

Elder Davon had been right; the Matriarch’s eyes narrowed, her lips thinned, and her breath quickened. Nirel wished he’d explained what the odd words meant, but it was easier to feign confusion when she didn’t know.

“Did he say what the plan was?” the Matriarch ground out between clenched teeth.

They’d come to the crucial point. Nirel nodded, gulping hard. “He said if it was a boy, he’d tell you it was a girl so you would waste months carrying it to term. If it was a girl—” She swallowed again and dropped her eyes.

“What?” the Matriarch demanded. She grabbed Nirel’s shoulders and shook her so hard her head snapped back on her neck.

“Please—I’m sorry—I tried to warn you sooner but they stopped me.” She took a deep breath and put trembling terror into her voice. “If it was a girl, he said he would tell you it was a boy. And you would take care of the problem for them.”

The Matriarch stepped back, her face going so pale Nirel could see it even under her heavy cosmetics. “No.”

Nirel hunched her shoulders miserably. “I couldn’t stop myself. I gasped, and they heard me. Kevessa turned around and grabbed me before I could run. Nina was on her shoulder. They put their light around me so I couldn’t speak or move. They put me in a carriage and took me to her father’s apartment at the University. They locked me in a closet. By that time I was so sick all I could do was lay down and shiver. For days I was too weak to move. They brought me food and water and a chamberpot, but that was all.” She brushed the still-healing rash on her cheeks. “Finally I recovered enough to try to escape. I couldn’t do anything while Gevan was there or he would have heard me, but a few hours ago he left, and I started kicking the door. It took a long time, but the hinges got loose and eventually broke free. I came as quickly as I could.”

The Matriarch raked her up and down with a penetrating gaze. Nirel was glad Elder Davon and the others had prepared her so carefully. They’d rubbed oil in her hair and dust on her face and clothes to make her look as if she’d been locked in a closet for a week.

Finally the Matriarch seemed satisfied. She stared into space for a long time, then took a deep breath and focused again on Nirel. “You’re telling me I killed my own daughter.”

Nirel wrung her hands. “I don’t know. Maybe they changed their minds and didn’t do what they said. I don’t know how you could find out.”

“I do.” The Matriarch turned to the nearest guard. “Go to Yerenna. Tell her to retrieve the remains of my child and examine them to determine if it was male or female. When she’s finished, bring her to me.”

She whirled on another guard. “The wizards retired early as usual. Go to their rooms and seize them. If you do it stealthily while they sleep, you should be able to separate them from their familiars. But take a big enough force to overcome them even if they use the Mother’s power. Bring them to the throne room.”

“Yes, your majesty.” The guard saluted and hurried to do her bidding.

* * *

Vigorre gave the guards at the gate his usual casual wave as he strode into the palace. He moved through the halls toward the wizards’ quarters as quickly as he could without drawing attention. He wasn’t looking forward to Elkan’s reaction to learning about his Purifier ties, but it would be a tremendous relief to have all his secrets in the open at last.

He reached the top of the stairs and turned down the corridor that led to the wizards’ rooms. A furious bray shattered the silence. Vigorre froze. A piercing shriek like a woman’s scream rang out. Golden light flashed into the corridor, illuminating a mass of guards clustered outside the wizards’ doors. Abruptly it went dark. Shouts and sounds of struggle echoed down the hallway .

Vigorre shrank into the shadows, his pulse pounding in his ears. Sickly he wondered if it had been a wizard or familiar’s death that had quenched the light.

He’d dithered over his decision too long. He was too late.

Thirty-Eight

S
ar’s deafening bray jerked Josiah out of deep sleep. Before he could react, a hand clamped over his mouth. More seized his limbs and hauled him from his bed. He struggled, but it was hopeless. A rope swiftly bound his hands behind him. A flash of gold illumined the darkness, revealing Sar bucking and thrashing, surrounded by the Matriarch’s guards. One forced a bridle over his head as the night went dark again.

His captors hauled him into the corridor, careful to keep him far from the donkey. Moments later more guards dragged a bound Kevessa from her room a few doors down. Her voluminous white nightgown caught the light of a single lantern.

One guard dangled a limp Nina in front of Kevessa. She lunged toward her familiar, but her captors restrained her and the guard stayed out of her reach. “Cooperate, girl, or I’ll snap its neck," he growled. His big hands wrapped around Nina like a butcher with a rabbit.

Kevessa quit fighting, but she lifted her chin. “How dare you betray your Matriarch! She’ll hang you all! Who bought your loyalty? The Purifiers?”

The guard sneered. “The Matriarch gave us our orders. We’re taking you to the throne room.”

Josiah’s heart plummeted. No chance, then, that the ruckus would bring rescuers charging in to save them.

The violent clamor from Elkan’s room finally died down. Josiah gulped as guards pulled a dazed and battered Elkan into the hall and dropped him next to Josiah. “Master, are you all right?”

He winced and spit blood from a rapidly swelling lip. “I’ll live.” He fixed dark eyes on Tobi as a dozen guards wrestled her out of his room. She was swathed in ropes, including several turns around her neck that seemed to be strangling her. “Stop fighting, everyone; it’s no use. We’re going to have to take this up with the Matriarch.”

“They said—”

“I heard.” Elkan twisted to wipe his face on the shoulder of his tunic. “Kevessa, is Nina alive?”

“Barely.” Kevessa’s voice simmered with rage. “She was sleeping on my pillow like always. We managed to freeze the first one that grabbed her, but the next pulled him away and broke our contact. I think he knocked her on the head.”

Elkan’s voice was grim. “The Matriarch has undoubtedly been planning how to neutralize us if necessary since we arrived. But why now?”

Two guards emerged from Borlen’s room. A writhing, hissing sack dangled from a spear on their shoulders. Another guard supported one of his comrades, who staggered into the corridor clutching a wad of cloth to his forearm.

Elkan straightened. “Was he bitten? Let one of us have our familiar and we can help him—”

“We won’t fall for your tricks,” answered a guard whose slightly more elaborate uniform suggested he was in command. He jerked his head and the injured guard’s companion helped him along the corridor toward the stairs. “We can tend our own.”

“But if Shadow injected enough poison he’ll die.” Elkan twisted his wrists in their bonds.

“As is his duty.” The commander strode to Borlen’s door. “Haven’t you secured the traitor yet?”

“Yes, sir.” Three guards dragged a struggling Borlen from the room. He looked even worse than Elkan, with bruises blooming all over his face and bare chest and a long bleeding slash down one arm.

At sight of the commander Borlen jerked to attention. “Captain Denorre, what is this? Attacking the Matriarch’s guests in their beds—”

“Following orders, son. As I expect you to do, even if you did desert us for the foreigners.” Denorre jerked his head contemptuously toward the other wizards. “You’re lucky she ordered you taken alive.” He strode down the corridor, peering around in the gloom. “Light some more lanterns. Have we got all of them? What about the bird?”

For an instant Josiah’s heart leaped, then crashed again as a man emerged from Elkan’s room with Tharanirre on his forearm. She beat her wings wildly, but a leather hood over her head obscured her vision, and her captor clutched straps fastened to her legs. Her talons dug into his arm, but it was protected by a long, thick leather glove. The man nodded to Denorre. “This beauty’s a canny one, but she’s no match for an experienced falconer.”

“Good,” Denorre said. “Take them to the throne room.”

Josiah would have fought his captors every inch of the way, but Elkan gave him a sharp look and he subsided. What was the point, anyway? There were far too many guards to resist. The Matriarch hadn’t taken any chances.

Why had she suddenly turned against them? Josiah’s mind raced as he trudged in the midst of the guards, but he couldn’t think of any reason that made sense. Elkan had capitulated to her demands. She’d seemed to accept the limits of his cooperation. If she thought she could threaten and intimidate him into revealing her next child’s sex, wouldn’t it have made more sense to wait until after she conceived again and the pregnancy was far enough along for it to be an issue?

The throne room blazed with lanterns and candles. Despite the late hour people filled the room. The Matriarch sat on her throne, dressed in her most formal regalia. Her position on the high dais let her look down on her subjects from above like the Mother incarnate. Though Josiah was certain the Mother would never assume the cruel, arrogant expression the Matriarch wore.

She didn’t move or speak as the guards assembled the four wizards and five familiars in a line at the base of the steps. Even after they were in position she waited, staring at Elkan, while the crowd’s murmurs died and the silence lengthened.

Finally she spoke, tightly leashed fury in her voice. “You played me for a fool. It’s so obvious now. My hopes blinded me, and your master prepared you well to exploit them. But no longer. I know the truth.”

Elkan furrowed his brow. “I swear, your majesty, whatever you suspect—”

She cut him off with a violent gesture. “I don’t suspect; I know. You’re Marvannan agents!”

Josiah’s mouth fell open.

The Matriarch rose and paced back and forth along the edge of the dais. “Somehow the Autarch found Tevenar first, discovered your powers, and devised a way to use them against me. His plan was clever. Give me what I most desired so I would keep pursuing useless efforts until it was too late. Distract me with an elaborate pretense of enmity between you and his Purifier puppets. Shroud your manipulation in a cloak of piety so I would come to trust you implicitly. Dear Mother, you had me so convinced you tricked me into killing my own daughter!”

The crowd gasped. Elkan blurted, “Your majesty—”

She made a slashing gesture and the guard behind Elkan put a blade to his throat. “Silence!” she ordered. “I’d rather send you back to your master in chains, but I’ll kill you if you force me.” She glared down at him; he returned her gaze with smoldering anger of his own.

She swiveled and stalked over to glower at Kevessa. “How long have you and your father been in the Autarch’s pay?” She whirled. “And you, Borlen? How much did he offer you to betray me? Or did you turn to him for revenge for that sword in your heart? I should have finished the job!”

Her eyes passed dismissively over Josiah to fix on the row of familiars. “I see it now. Your beasts aren’t demons. They really do come from the Mother. That’s why you had to trick me instead of doing the deed yourself; because she really does place limits on what they can be forced to do.” She clenched her fists, her chest heaving. “But you’ve found a way to turn her power to evil anyway, just as the ancient wizards did.”

She beckoned imperiously to the falconer who held Tharanirre. He mounted the dais to stand before her. Tharanirre beat her wings frantically but couldn’t break free.

The Matriarch stared at the eagle with naked greed. “Unlike you,
I
will use her power for good. I will defend Ramunna from her enemies. I will free the people of Marvanna from the Autarch’s oppression. I will cleanse Ravanetha of the Purifier heresy and restore the true worship of the Mother to all the world!”

She drew a small, jewel-encrusted knife from a scabbard at her waist. An anticipatory smile played around the corners of her mouth as she studied the struggling Tharanirre. “Thank you, boy, for telling me how it’s done.”

“No!” Josiah cried, but she ignored him, and his guard clapped a heavy hand over his mouth.

The Matriarch dragged the knife across the palm of her hand, leaving a dripping red line. She transferred the knife to her bleeding hand, swooped in to seize Tharanirre by the neck, and slashed the knife across her breast. It fell to the floor with a ringing clatter as she slapped her scarlet palm against the eagle’s gushing wound and their blood mingled.

* * *