far less troublesome way of ensuring the succession.”
Jenga was a little surprised at Tarja’s ability to so objectively analyze his mother’s motives, particularly as he had been cast aside to make room for them.
“Perhaps her dynastic ambitions explain her willingness to send R’shiel to Karien,” Garet suggested. “This Overlord business could be merely a ruse. If Joyhinia gains the First Sister’s mantle, R’shiel becomes an eminently suitable consort for Jasnoff’s son. Cratyn is the same age as R’shiel and still unmarried. Why stop at the First Sister’s mantle when you can have the Karien crown?”
Tarja shook his head. “Pieter spoke of the priest having a vision. He didn’t act like a man coming to escort a bride home.”
“What do you intend to do, Tarja?”
“R’shiel is not a child any longer, Jenga. She might be relieved to discover she’s not related to Joyhinia. Or me. For that matter, I’m not at all certain she won’t jump at the chance to leave the Citadel with the Kariens, whatever the reason. But the real issue here is who ordered that village burned.”
Jenga had been wondering the same thing. “Did Bereth know the name of the officer who led the raid?”
Davydd shook his head. “We asked her, but she couldn’t name him. She wasn’t there when the village was raided.”
“Would it surprise anyone to learn that Jacomina was the Administrator in Testra three years ago?” Garet asked.
“Our recently elevated Mistress of Enlightenment?” Tarja replied. “Well, that explains a lot. Order a few hapless villagers torched and get a seat on the Quorum in return.”
There were other reasons for Jacomina’s elevation, but Jenga did not bother to elaborate. He rubbed his chin as he considered the news, not sure what bothered him most. A whole village had been destroyed by his men, without his knowledge. Who had done such a thing? Who among his officers would so readily turn on his own countrymen?
“Garet, what can Joyhinia hope to achieve by this? Realistically?”
The Commandant thought for a moment before he answered. “At best, it would merely embarrass Mahina. It depends on what the Kariens are threatening. It could just be bluff and bluster on their part.”
“And at worst?” Jenga asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Well, in theory, if she has the support of the Quorum and enough of the Blue Sisters, Joyhinia could move to have Mahina impeached.”
“Can she do that?” Davydd asked.
“It’s happened before,” Garet shrugged. “Once. Although in that case the First Sister was accused of murder. I guess the question is whether or not Joyhinia has sufficient support to try it.”
Jenga shook his head. “Jacomina would support her, but Harith opposes her on principal and Francil has never been one for involving herself in the power games of the Quorum. I find it hard to believe that a majority of the Blue Sisters would support her.”
Tarja laughed harshly at Jenga’s assessment of the situation. “I admire your optimism, Jenga, but if Joyhinia moves to impeach the First Sister, I promise you, she has the numbers.”
“Then we must warn Mahina.”
“Tell her about R’shiel, too,” Tarja suggested. “It will give her ammunition to use against Joyhinia. If she’s exposed as a liar, it may shake the faith of her supporters.” Tarja looked him in the eye, his expression a blatant challenge. “Although there will be some who wonder why you’ve never denied R’shiel, my Lord.”
“Aye, there will be,” he agreed uncomfortably. “But that is none of their concern. Or yours.”
“But with proof of Joyhinia’s deliberate lie...” Garet began.
“I said the matter is none of your concern. I’ll hear no more about it.” The distrust in Tarja’s eyes pained him, but he was too far down this road to turn back now. “Tell R’shiel if you must, Tarja. She deserves to know. But you will not reveal it publicly. Nor you, Garet, and that’s an order.”
The Commandant nodded his agreement with some reluctance and more than a little suspicion.
“Maybe you should tell Lord Pieter,” Davydd suggested. The other men looked at him in surprise, and the young man found himself having to defend his statement to the senior officers. “I mean, he’s expecting to return with the daughter of the First Sister, isn’t he? His enthusiasm might wane a little when he learns she’s nothing more than an orphan from the mountains.”
“He has a point,” Garet remarked thoughtfully.
“If Pieter believes Elfron has spoken with Xaphista, I doubt R’shiel’s parentage will unduly concern him.”
“Aye, and much as I am fond of the girl, I cannot worry about her at the moment,” Jenga added. “I’m more concerned with Joyhinia’s plans for this evening,”
“We still have several hours before the Gathering,” Garet reminded them. “Perhaps we can think of a way to disrupt her plans by then.”
“And perhaps not,” Tarja predicted. He looked straight at Jenga. “Have you considered, my Lord, that if Joyhinia succeeds, you will be required to swear allegiance to her?”
“I am the Lord Defender, Tarja. If Joyhinia wins the First Sister’s mantle by legal means, I will have no choice but to swear the Oath of Allegiance to her, on behalf of the Defenders.”
“You may swear the oath on behalf of everyone but me,” Tarja told him bleakly. “I’ll not serve under Joyhinia’s rule.”
“You are a captain of the Defenders,” Jenga pointed out, surprised that Tarja would even contemplate such a thing. “You are not some common trooper who can run home to his farm when he is tired of playing soldier. Your oath is binding until death.”
“Then I’ll desert,” Tarja replied. “You can hunt me down and hang me for it, Jenga, but not for any price will I serve in the Defenders if Joyhinia is First Sister.”
chapter 13
Despite the promise of perfect weather earlier in the day, impatient storm clouds gathered over the Citadel during the afternoon. By the time the amphitheater was due to be cleared for the Gathering, a blustery wind stirred the treetops, and the dull rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. Mahina ordered the Gathering moved to the Great Hall and sent word that revellers could stay in the amphitheater as long as the weather held.
The announcement was met with a general cheer, and the Guild musicians struck up another lively tune. They had moved their wagon into the Arena as an impromptu stage, pushed tables back to make way for dancing, and a bonfire was started to stave off the chill of the evening. Every Blue Sister in the Citadel would be at the Gathering as soon as the sun set. The Novices and Probates were left with a rare opportunity to enjoy themselves away from the watchful eyes of their superiors. Fully aware that the young women would be unsupervised until well after midnight, the Defenders hovered around the Arena, waiting for that magical moment when the last blue figure disappeared from view.
R’shiel watched the dancing from the side of the Arena, unconsciously tapping her foot in time to the music, as Junee and Kilene filled her in on all the latest gossip from the dormitories.
“By the Founder’s!” Kilene suddenly declared dramatically. “It’s him!”
A little taken aback by Kilene’s sudden change of subject mid-sentence, R’shiel looked at her friend in puzzlement.
“Davydd Tailorson,” Junee explained with a world-weary air. “Kilene goes to sleep every night dreaming about him.”
“Who is he?” R’shiel knew most of the officers who had graduated with Tarja by name, but as a rule, she did not follow the goings-on in the Corps with quite the same dedication as her friends. Having spent the last few weeks in virtual imprisonment in Joyhinia’s apartments, she was even more out of touch than usual.
“Over there,” Kilene said, “In the red jacket.”
“In the red jacket? Kilene, every man here is wearing a red jacket, you fool.”
“You know what I mean. He’s standing next to Luc Janeson. No! Don’t look at him!”
