Desert Rising (26 page)

Ashraf rubbed a hand over his chin. “I think they'll talk. They'll talk with their families, with their neighbors. They'll worry and watch for any sign that we're right—­that a war is coming. And everywhere they look, they'll see signs of it.” He hesitated, then looked at Kadar. “This is already happening. The next time I am in Frubia, I will make a trip to Kabandha with carpenters to make the houses livable. I will ask our allies to send ­people to train newcomers in fishing and desert living. We have many Forsaken working in our silk demesne who will transfer to the new town and help make it habitable. The alliance between the Hasifels and the Nasirofs means there are more caravans running from here to my family's silk demesne. From the silk demesne, they will transport the women and children to Kabandha. It will become harder and harder to hide, but we won't take the ­people whose absence would be noticed, with jobs like Mariah's in the Temple. Instead, we will use them as our eyes and ears, to make certain we are not being found out. The servants of the deities like to believe the Forsaken are as stupid as animals; it helps them justify treating them so badly.”

“They underestimate us,” Farrah said. “They don't think we're smart or ambitious, so they don't think we are dangerous. But we are, and they will find out too late that we will no longer be stepped on.”

Kadar met her determined look and nodded in agreement. If all Forsaken were as smart and determined as Farrah, it would be easy to get them to fight for freedom and respect.

“I'm hungry,” Farrah said suddenly, her hand on her stomach. “Are we going to stay around here all day?”

“You're always hungry,” Kadar teased.

“Eating for two,” she retorted.

Ashraf grinned. “I'll let the three of you go eat. Kadar, let me know if you feel anything major from your sister.”

“Let me know if you
hear
anything major about my sister,” Kadar retorted. “What you hear from your sources is certainly more reliable than what she feels, which is just angry.” He put an arm around Farrah. “Let's go get something to eat. Uncle Tarik will want to know what Mariah said happened with Sulis.”

 

Chapter 16

T
HE
C
RONE SAT
in her chair at the Curia, her hands folded primly before her, feeling none of the nervousness this morning that she had last night after the Ceremony of Initiation did not take place. Her
feli
wasn't with her, much to her relief. But she was puzzled as well. Why would the deities not wish to join their Voices at this gathering, as important as it was? And what exactly were the Herald and the Tribune up to that was making them so late?

The Templar was pacing beside the table.

“They should have been here by now,” he growled. “Where are they? And where's that blasted Counselor?”

The Crone pasted a serene smile on her face. “Patience, my dear. They're trying to fluster us. The Counselor has called this meeting, so they don't dare miss it. We can make our demands and start the bargaining process, but you must be calm. We are the injured party here.”

He snorted and slung himself into a seat, propping his feet up on the table. “They won't accept that.”

“They won't have a choice if they want their pledges,” the Crone said with a wintry smile.

There was a noise at the door, and the Crone arranged her face to look somber.

The Counselor came through the door, followed closely by the Tribune and Herald. None of them looked at the Templar or Crone as they sat at the table. Only the Counselor had her
feli
beside her. The Crone let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. If the other Voice's
feli
were not here, it meant the deities wouldn't be present at the table this time for certain. There would be no channeling at this meeting. Everything had already been decided, and the scions would merely deliver the deities' judgments. The Crone felt her confidence rising.

The Tribune cleared his throat. “We are here,” he said in his colorless voice. “We are listening.”

The Crone didn't give the Templar a chance to speak, knowing he'd blunder any speech if she didn't manage him.

“We have a witness who tells us acolytes of Aryn took two pledges to a house in the city and channeled a healing through them. Aryn tampered with a pledge.” She glanced at the Counselor, whose face was unreadable. “This was after the One warned that interfering with the pledges would not be tolerated. Added to the suspicious meetings the pledges have been holding in Parasu's courtyard, we feel damage has been done to our shrines, and we require restitution.” The Crone glanced at the Templar, who nodded in satisfaction.

“What form of restitution?” the Tribune asked calmly, to the Crone's surprise. She'd expected some protest. In fact, she'd expected the Herald to interrupt the charges she'd made. Things were going far too smoothly.

The Templar, seeming oblivious to the tension, answered the Tribune confidently. “We wish a greater portion of the tithes,” he said, “and greater control over how we collect them. We want to interrogate some members of the desert clans about questionable activities—­especially the relatives of the desert pledge, since they may be attempting insurgency through her. Voras will have complete control over security issues in and around the city and our territory. There are many who would harm Illian. We must be more proactive in our protection of the city.”

He glanced over at the Crone, expecting her to add demands of her own. She chose to remain silent, only nodding her agreement. There were tensions in the room she could not read, so she chose to let it seem that Voras was the driving force behind the demands.

The Tribune turned to the Counselor. “Will the One intercede either way in this matter?” he asked formally.

The Counselor shook her head. “It is a conflict between the deities, to be settled by the deities. The One does not think delaying the initiation caused great harm to the pledges. I will repeat the warning that the One will not tolerate any more nonsense with the pledges,” she said, and glanced sharply at the Templar.

He held up his hands in protest. “Tell her that,” he said, gesturing to the Herald.

Counselor Elida gave him a level look. “I have spoken with the Herald and am satisfied with her account of the incident. Let's not fool ourselves. This has nothing to do with pledge tampering and everything to do with gaining power. The One declines to participate in such petty squabbling.”

That was good for Ivanha and Voras, the Crone thought to herself, concealing her triumph by looking down at her hands. If the One would not stir for this, it gave them greater power. Aryn and Parasu had more to lose, as they had fewer acolytes to carry out their will here on earth.

The Counselor interrupted her thoughts. “You should know, however, that as long as these pledges are not permitted initiation, there will be no new pledges. The One and the
feli
are in accord on this matter. The
feli
will not pair until the current pledges and their
feli
are all taken by a deity or the One.”

The Crone shifted in her seat at that. Many of the women who became her acolytes were betrothed maidens who came to Ivanha to offer their marriage tithe and were paired to a
feli
instead. Spring was high season for tithing as the weather eased, and handfastings made in the winter came to tithe and hold their ceremonies at the great Temple during the Festival of the Founding. The Crone could only hope Aryn and Parasu were sensible enough to accept their offer; otherwise, Ivanha might lose future acolytes to the marriage bed. She looked up to find the Counselor watching her. She smiled serenely and nodded once to show to the room that this had not affected her plans in the least. The first rule of bargaining was never to show a weakness to the enemy.

“That isn't fair,” the Templar burst out, and the Crone shook her head at his stupidity. “Most of my acolytes come from youngsters tithing at my altar before their summer and fall campaigns and being paired with a
feli
. This punishment is directed at Voras, when it's Aryn and Parasu who have done us wrong.”

“Then it will be in your best interest to resolve this as quickly as possible,” the Counselor said evenly.

“Indeed,” the Templar grumbled, shooting a glare at the Crone. “We can solve this today. I don't think our requests are unreasonable.”

“Aryn disagrees,” the Herald said, speaking up for the first time. “She won't listen to any demands from deities who have been corrupting the system for years. In fact, she has demands of her own before she will let the initiation continue.” She smirked and stood. “I doubt you are ready to hear them yet. You'll become desperate soon enough, though, as you see your potential acolytes off to war and marriage. Let us know when you are truly ready to begin talking. I've got things to do.”

As she headed for the door, the Crone couldn't help but call after her. “We are the ones with the greater numbers, Herald. One pledging season won't ruin us. You should look to your own shrine.”

The Herald paused with her hand on the door. “I could pit any of my riding masters against ten of your Mother Superiors. Ivanha may have numbers, but she doesn't have strength. I think that if you compare the numbers of your acolytes to the talents of mine, you will find that you are the one not in a position to bargain.”

She closed the door behind her, and the Crone clenched her hands on her lap to hide their trembling. The Herald's words had struck her deeply. Perhaps it was time she reviewed the talents of her shrine and strengthened their training with Ivanha.

The Tribune stood. “Parasu is in accord with Aryn. We will accept no demands and give no restitution. Parasu wants to see accounts of all the Forsaken created in the past year, and how much money Voras made off those cast down. He also wants the process by which Forsaken are created changed to meet his satisfaction before the initiation will go forward.”

The Counselor stood and gave both remaining Voices a long look before silently following the Tribune out the door.

“Well, that was a disaster,” the Templar burst out when the door had closed. “You said this would be easy. You said they were the only ones with something to lose! The warriors will be out in the field before this is resolved, and I'll lose another year of pledges.”

“Which you conveniently told them, giving away any bargaining advantage we might have had,” the Crone returned. “ ‘That isn't fair,' ” she mimicked, her voice childish and mocking. “Could you have been any more obvious?”

He flushed and turned his back to her. “So what's the plan now?” he asked.

“We sit firm. No matter what the Herald says, they have the lesser numbers. Her riding masters might be able to go against my Mothers, but they wouldn't fare well against the swords of your soldiers. And we certainly have nothing to fear from a bunch of weak-­limbed scholars.” The Crone stood and gathered her cloak about her. “No—­we wait until they come to us, just as they have in the past.”

“
G
O BACK TO
classes?” Dani burst out. “You can't be serious!”

The pledges were back in the Temple of the One the afternoon after the thwarted initiation, sitting on their mats. The screens from the night before had been removed, and they could see the shrine in the center again. Sulis had expected to find out when the next Initiation Ceremony would be held; instead, the Counselor told them they would be resuming their classes indefinitely.

“I assure you that I am completely serious,” Counselor Elida told Dani. She seemed serene, but her
feli
sat beside her twitching his tail, his ears swiveling as though checking for intruders. “It is the most productive thing you can do while the deities work through this problem.”

“But the teachers are done with their lessons,” Lasha protested. “Are we supposed to go back to the beginning and relearn everything we already know?”

“No,” the Counselor said, slightly irritated. Sulis thought the irritation was more toward the deities for putting her in this position than the pledges. “Advanced teachers have been selected from each of the shrines. You will begin in-­depth studies of each subject. You normally would have learned them from acolytes of the shrine you were taken into. These are the more general of those classes. The times and days of the classes will be announced before vespers tonight.”

Alannah spoke up, overriding Dani's noise of disgust. “Why is the One letting the deities do this to us?”

The Counselor sighed. “Delaying initiation won't harm this pledge group at all,” she said. “How the deities negotiate this could affect us for centuries. The One has greater things to worry about than whether a small bunch of pledges are taken today, tomorrow, or three months from now.”

With that, she swept out of the room, her
feli
stalking after her. Dani stood and broke the silence.

“I'm not doing it,” he declared. “If the deities don't want me, they can let me go. I'm not going to any more classes.”

Sulis rose to her feet also, with most of the rest of the class. Joaquil remained seated with her eyes closed as though she were meditating, but Sulis didn't believe it. Joaquil just didn't want to face her fellow pledge mates. It was obvious to everyone that she was the pledge who had gone to the Crone after spying on Sulis and Lasha.

Jonas shrugged, then stretched. “What else can we do?” he asked Dani. “It's stuff we'd have to learn anyways. Might as well pretend we've been taken.”

“But we haven't, now have we?” Dani rumbled angrily. “We're still in dormitories. We're still not doin' the stuff we should be. Still can't see our families. The Festival of the Founding is coming up. We would have been presented then, on the last day, as new acolytes. My mother told me when I was first paired that she'd see me then. Knowing them, they've been planning the celebration for months now. What'll they be told?”

Sulis had forgotten about the Festival. It was a weeklong affair celebrating the founding of the Temple system after the Great War, when the four altars of the deities were placed around the altar of the One, symbolizing peace and unity. It drew thousands of pilgrims to Illian every spring. Uncle Aaron had told her what a spectacle it was. Giant tents for each of the deities were set up on the outskirts north of the city, so the Temple wouldn't be overwhelmed by the flood of ­people, and there were ceremonies and celebrations every day. Musicians and vendors came from all over the two Territories to play and to sell their food and goods. Sulis had been paired a month after the Festival last year, but most of her classmates had been paired during the Festival itself, or just before, when they came for the celebration.

Lasha nodded. “That's all my little sisters were talking about when I saw them last—­what dresses they were going to wear to our presentation, and what color my initiation gown would end up, what mother was going to wear. I doubt they'd hold a separate ceremony just for us later.”

“It's still a few weeks away,” Sandy said. “Maybe they'll work things out before then.”

Jonas shook his head. “Doubt it,” he said glumly. “They're all firmly entrenched. None of them can give way without the others gaining too much.”

“So what should we do?” Lasha asked.

Jonas shrugged. “Go back to our dorms. Wait. See what happens.”

Sulis spoke up for the first time, hesitant. “There has to be another way,” she said. The others looked at her, and she thought she saw accusation in at least a ­couple of faces. “What did they do before this Temple was founded? Pledges weren't always initiated here, were they?”

Sulis was surprised when Tori answered. “No, they weren't,” she said thoughtfully. “I am certain there must be records or at least legends of olden times. I will spend time in the library. It is a curious thought.”