The Singers of Nevya (97 page)

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Authors: Louise Marley

Tags: #Magic, #Imaginary Places, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Singers, #General

BOOK: The Singers of Nevya
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“A hero indeed,” Sira said. A shared memory of Iban, his expressive face and bright gray eyes, sprang up between them. But there was no time now for grieving. The matters of Soren’s recovery were too pressing.
But we will always remember,
Sira sent to Zakri.

They took leave of Ana and her mate, leaving them to struggle on through their meal. They went across the hall to join Theo and Elnor in the Cantoris, to perform the one task that every Cantor or Cantrix must fulfill every day, without fail. Their personal feelings must always take second place to their duties.

Chapter Twenty-eight

The House members gathered in solemn rows to watch as the prisoners were taken from the carvery. Housemen and women lined the corridor in stony silence, holding their children by the hand or in their arms as the three carvers and six itinerants marched past with their eyes averted. The whisper of their boots against the stone floor was the only sound. Saddled
hruss
waited for them in the courtyard, where two itinerant Singers and six of Soren’s strongest riders were already mounted, ready to begin the long ride to Lamdon. There the rebels would face the judgment of the Magistral Committee. Sira and Theo had debated this move. The number of riders was large, and available supplies were limited. They had decided to outfit the group one way only, and trust Lamdon to supply them for the journey home.

Theo stepped forward as the prisoners reached the double doors. He held out his hand to each of the itinerants as they passed. One by one, Klas, Shiro, and the three other men dropped their
filla
into his palm.

Bree came last. Her neck burned with shame, and she stared steadfastly at the floor. She pulled her
filla
from her tunic and held it out between two fingers without looking at it. Theo took it carefully, not touching her hand, and dropped it with the others into a leather pouch. It would be up to the Committee to decide if and when the
filla
would be returned. Bree swallowed and turned to the open doors with the three carvers trudging behind her.

“Wait!” Sook came running down the corridor from the kitchens, a towel still in her hands. “Wait, please!” she called.

She was breathless when she reached Bree, and put her small hand up to grip the Singer’s shoulder. Bree looked away, shaking her head. “It’s no use, Sook,” she muttered.

Sook turned to Theo, then searched past him for Zakri. Zakri, with Berk and Sira, stood by the doors of the Cantoris with Mreen and Joji.

“Cantor Zakri,” Sook said.

Zakri glanced once at Sira before he moved forward. “What is it, Sook? What can I do?”

“We have to help Bree,” Sook said. “She helped me. She took me to see Mura, she unlocked my door, she brought me food. She even tried to stand up to Cho! I don’t know what might have become of me if she hadn’t been there.”

Theo gave Bree a hard look. “Singer, do you have something to say for yourself?”

Bree lifted her head to meet Theo’s eyes. “I’m getting what I deserve, if that’s what you mean, Cantor,” she said. “I helped Sook when I could, yes. But I was part of this from the start. It’s just that—when I saw what was happening—I couldn’t take it anymore. I should have done more . . . but it had gone too far.” Her plain features were bleak.

“She doesn’t need more punishment,” Sook insisted. “She helped me, and she needs my help now.” Her great eyes flashed at Zakri. She put out her hand as if to touch his sleeve, then jerked it back, remembering. “Please, Zakri. Make them let her go. For me.”

Zakri lifted his hands in an appeal for understanding. “What can I do, Sook? These are not my decisions!”

“You have to do something. Please!”

Zakri flushed under the intensity of her gaze, aware of every eye upon them. “Cantor Theo,” he murmured. “Is there anything we can do? Can you help me here?”

“Lamdon has to deal with them,” Theo answered. “They are Gifted, and therefore subject to the highest authority. Sook could send along a letter, perhaps, some message asking for leniency in Bree’s case.”

Zakri looked hopefully at Sook. She considered for a moment, biting her lip. She glanced at Bree, and her chin lifted. “I’m going to go with them!” she declared. “I want to be there for the judgment.”

Behind her the Housekeeper exclaimed, “But, Sook! Who will run the kitchens if you leave now?”

Sook put her hands on her hips and glared at the assembled House members. “Surely someone can manage during my absence!” The House members looked at each other. “You all ate when I was locked up for those weeks, didn’t you?” Several put up their hands, about to speak, but Nori forestalled them. She came from behind the crowd. She cast a shy glance at Zakri as she passed him, and came to stand before Sook and Bree.

“I can do it, Sook,” she said. “I want to.”

Sook tossed her head. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

Zakri opened his mouth to protest Sook’s plan, to remind her this would be no pleasant journey, but then he closed it without speaking. He had no say in this matter, either.

Theo smiled down at Sook. “Well, Housewoman, you have your way, it seems. Now you had better hurry, or the travelers will leave without you!” he said.

Sook gave him a brilliant smile, spun about, and flew down the corridor toward her own apartment. Zakri stood at Theo’s shoulder as the rest of the offenders were ushered out into the courtyard to mount their
hruss
.

“Do you think they will listen to her?” he asked. “I fear the Magistral Committee will tear her to pieces.”

Theo chuckled. “I think, Cantor Zakri, that your young friend will not rest until the Committee hears her out! She will be like a
wezel
in a
caeru
den . . . she is small, but she is persistent. When she gets those sharp little teeth into something, she will not let go until she is good and ready.”

“I suppose you are right,” Zakri said shakily, and laughed a little under his breath. “But I worry about her.”

Theo clapped him hard on the shoulder. “My friend,” he said. “You had best worry about the Committee—they have no warning!”

Within ten days of the restoration of the
quiru
, the gardens of Soren began producing vegetables once again. Limp, yellowing leaves turned green and firm, and sagging stalks straightened under the warmth and light that poured daily from Sira’s and Theo’s
quirunha
. Cantrix Elnor grew stronger, too. Like the plants in the nursery, she stood straighter and her color improved. When she joined them on the dais, her voice was unsteady at first, her intonation uncertain. But before many days passed she was singing securely in a high, clear voice. In due time she took a turn with one of the
filhata
, and on that day, she pronounced herself ready to welcome a new junior and take responsibility for her own Cantoris.

Messages flew between Soren and Lamdon, Lamdon and Conservatory, Conservatory and Soren. Sook returned to Soren in the company of a courier from Lamdon, bearing the news that the offenders had been censured and fined one hundred bits of metal, which should keep them busy for many summers. They had been released to go and earn their freedom, with the proviso that none of them ever visit Soren again. Only two, the Singers who had abandoned the Magister’s party, received the ultimate sentence. Those two would be exposed in the Mariks, left to the deep cold as they had left the Magister and his mate and children.

Bree’s fine was reduced to twenty bits of metal because of Sook’s testimony on her behalf. When Sook told the story of the Committee meeting, her eyes flashed and tendrils of black hair flew about her face. Her cheeks had grown brown from the long days of riding, and her gaze was direct and confident. Zakri watched with pride, as if she were a treasured little sister. Theo watched them both, hiding a smile.

The carvers had been banished from Soren, from their home, in perpetuity. Their family members would have to decide for themselves whether to join them, whether to become members at whatever House might agree to take them in, or to forgo seeing them ever again.

I wonder if they know about Observatory?
Theo sent to Sira, grinning at her.

I should imagine you will tell them
.

Certainly. Observatory could do with some carvers of their own. And I doubt Pol would have any difficulty disciplining that lot!

The courier’s greatest news for the House members was of their new Magister. The younger brother of the Magister of Arren was to be appointed in due course, and would arrive in the summer with his mate and their children and a retinue of servants. A search party had gone looking for the vanished Magister of Soren and his family as soon as there was a Singer available, but no trace had been found. The courier’s features were stoic when he described the Committee’s feeling that when the summer came the melting snow would reveal their remains. Those around the meeting table glanced at each other, shaking their heads.

Finally, the courier said, “Had Carver Cho not died in the battle for Soren, the Committee would certainly have had him exposed. As it is, they ruled that his body should be left in the hills, not to be buried when the thaw comes.”

Sook, seated at the table with the dignitaries of her House for this one special meeting, kept her head high and her lips pressed together. Theo caught her eye and tapped his temple, reminding her that she had done what she must. She gave him a small nod of gratitude.

“And a Cantor?” Elnor asked. “Or Cantrix? Is Conservatory going to send me a junior?”

The courier bowed to her. “Your new colleague should arrive any day. Conservatory is providing his escort. And Conservatory requests that Cantrix Sira return with their riders.”

Sira stared at him. “I? Go to Conservatory? Why is that?”

He bowed again. “I don’t know, Cantrix,” he answered. “They don’t tell me everything.”

Theo said, “It is a lot to ask, it seems to me. With no explanation!”

The courier spoke carefully. “I’m sorry, Cantor,” he said. “It’s what they told me to say.”

Zakri grinned across the table at Sira.
What have you done now, Maestra?

Sira arched her white-slashed brow at him.
Do not call me that! And I have no idea what this is about. I may not even go.

Theo chuckled.
Oh, I do think you will go, Sira. And so will I! Who can resist a chance to visit Conservatory? Besides, we need to take Mreen back—and Joji.

Sira regarded him thoughtfully.
You are right, as always. It has been a very long time since I have walked the halls of Conservatory
. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, and turned her head to look out the window. The first melt was beginning to pare away the snowpack. The dark green of the irontrees was already brightening, promising summer.
Would it not be lovely,
she mused,
to be in the open when the Visitor first rises in the east?

Theo sent,
Indeed it would, my dear.
Zakri, listening as usual, quickly withdrew from their conversation. He smiled to himself, watching Sira and Theo. Sira’s eyes were bright, and the sharp planes of her face were softer, the lines of weather and worry smoothed away. She looked very young just then, Zakri thought. For a brief span, she looked no older than Sook.

The moment passed. Theo turned to Zakri. “Cantor Zakri? Will you be coming with us?”

Zakri reluctantly shook his head. “I think it is time I went home—my home, which is Amric. Gavn has been alone with Ovan a long time.”

Sira sent privately,
It will be hard to say goodbye to you.

Zakri had to press down the fear that he might not see her again for years, perhaps ever. He forced a smile to his lips.
And to you, Maestra!
He could not push away the thought that Observatory was a long, long way from Amric, no matter how he reminded himself of his duty.

Theo sent to him,
Zakri. Conservatory is not more than a day’s ride out of your way. Do come with us at least that far!

He is right again,
Sira sent.
Let us all ride together, one more time.

Zakri laughed and gave in.
So I will! I see there is no resisting you two!
The air glimmered before him as if full of ice crystals catching the sun. He allowed the sparks to dance around him for a full minute before he quenched them.

The evening meal began in a festive mood. There was wine for the first time in months, a gift from the Magistral Committee, sent as a sign of encouragement and unity. Sook, for the first and only time in her life, sat at the central table to be served like the upper-level House members, her bright tunic a flame among the coal-dark colors. Theo made certain everyone spoke aloud throughout the meal, for her sake.

The Gifted were served tea, and the wine was measured out for the House members, poured into small ironwood goblets carved into charming shapes, no two alike. Sira admired the one at Sook’s place. “Such a wealth of beautiful things here,” she said.

Sook nodded. “It’s a wonderful House,” she said. “At least it was.”

“It will be again,” Theo assured her. “Just look around you.”

Indeed, the great room was bright and warm, bustling with the talk and activity of a lively community. The mold that had taken root in the ceiling corners had been eradicated by much scrubbing, and the last bits of grime that had lain hidden in the darkness had been scoured away. The limeglass of the windows gleamed, and the stone of the floors shone smooth with polishing. Only the scarcity of fruit on the tables gave testimony to the time of hardship.

Will it be summer soon, Cantor Theo?
Mreen asked.

Indeed it will. And we will all be at Conservatory soon.

Mreen leaned close to Joji, to touch her forehead to his.
Joji, summer is coming, and we are going to Conservatory!
He wriggled in his seat, bouncing as if it were all he could do to stay in the chair. Mreen frowned at him, and lifted one chubby forefinger. Joji froze in his place, and Theo, watching them, roared with laughter.

“What is it?” Sira asked. He tried to answer, but as soon as he drew breath, he laughed again, helplessly. Sira tapped the table with her fingers and looked around at the others. “Does anyone know what is wrong with Theo?”

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