cause. I cannot serve under a woman who shows so little thought to the safety of our people. Karien is a hundred times larger than Medalon. Her soldiers outnumber our Defenders ten to one. I cannot be a party to this!”
The crowd fell expectantly silent at Harith’s impassioned speech. They had not expected this.
Mahina looked at the Mistress of the Sisterhood in surprise. “Are you resigning, Harith?”
Harith glanced at Mahina briefly, then turned back to the crowd. “I am not offering my resignation. I am proposing that Sister Mahina Cortanen be removed. I propose that Sister Joyhinia Tenragan, who has already proved, this evening, that she is a match for the Kariens, be appointed the Interim First Sister, until a formal election can be arranged. I propose that we immediately instigate a Purge to rid Medalon of the heathen cults that flourish under Mahina’s rule. Do I have a seconder?”
The silence was so loud following Harith’s proposal that R’shiel could hear the blood pumping in her ears. She waited, unconsciously holding her breath, even though she knew that Jacomina would step forward. It seemed an eternity before she did. An eternity in which Mahina visibly paled and Lord Jenga’s expression grew bleak. Garet and Tarja behind him exchanged a glance but did nothing. There was nothing they could do. This was a matter for the Sisterhood.
“I second the proposal,” Jacomina announced loudly as she stepped forward. “I too cannot bear the thought of Medalon being plunged into war.”
The crowd muttered softly, oddly subdued in the face of such an extraordinary situation.
“You need the whole Quorum to agree, Harith,” Mahina pointed out. “I have no doubt Joyhinia shares your sentiments, but you have not polled Francil yet.”
All eyes turned to the oldest member of the Quorum. Francil had managed to stand aloof from the vicious politics of her Sisters for thirty years. She now seemed rather uncomfortable to be the focus of so much attention. She avoided looking at Mahina, instead focusing her eyes on a point somewhere above the heads of the crowd.
“I stand with Harith,” she said, her voice only reaching those in the front ranks. The message was passed along with a murmur, like a wave of astonishment washing over the Gathering.
“The Quorum stands united,” Harith announced. “Do you have anything to say in your defense, Sister Mahina, before I ask the Blue Sisters for their vote?”
R’shiel had never seen Mahina so angry, but she forcibly pushed away her fury to address the Sisters. If ever her lack of charisma worked against her it was now.
“Think well before you vote on this issue, Sisters. Do not let the clever words of ambition cloud your judgment. Think what is best for Medalon! A Purge will do nothing but make our people suffer for no better reason than to appease the fanatics in the Karien Church. We have freed ourselves from the chains of religion. Don’t let them bind us again!”
The Gathering heard her out, but R’shiel could tell they were in no mood to heed her words. Had it just been Harith or Joyhinia who had rebelled against the First Sister, they would have shrugged it off as the political games played among the Quorum members. But Francil’s defection carried enormous weight. She had survived three administrations without a whiff of scandal or a moment of disloyalty. Her support of Joyhinia was fatal to Mahina’s cause.
“How do you speak, Sisters?” Harith called. “Do you say ‘yea’ to my proposal?”
The “yea” that thundered through the Great Hall was deafening.
“Those of you who support Mahina?” Harith knew they had won. She did not even bother with the title of Sister. The silence that followed Harith’s question was like a death knell. Harith waited, letting the significance of the silence sink in before she continued.
“Then I declare Joyhinia Tenragan the Interim First Sister,” Harith announced. “Long Live First Sister Joyhinia Tenragan!”
“Long Live First Sister Joyhinia Tenragan!” the Gathering cheered. “Long Live First Sister Joyhinia Tenragan!”
“Sisters!” Joyhinia held up her hand. “Please! This is no time to rejoice! This is a time of grave peril for Medalon, and I will do my utmost to be worthy of the trust you have placed in me.” That brought another cheer from the crowd, as Joyhinia knew it would. “We face a crisis that must be dealt with immediately. My Lord Defender, will you swear the allegiance of the Defenders to me?”
Jenga hesitated for a fraction of a second before he stepped forward, a fact that did not escape the new First Sister. Together, the Lord Defender and his aides stepped forward to stand before the podium. Jenga unsheathed his sword and laid it at Joyhinia’s feet and then knelt on one knee. Garet also knelt, as tradition demanded.
Tarja remained standing defiantly.
Joyhinia looked at him, her expression betraying nothing of the anger she must be feeling as her son defied her so openly.
“Did you have something to say, Captain?” she asked, her voice remarkably pleasant under the circumstances.
Tarja’s back was turned to R’shiel, so she could not see the expression on his face, but she could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders that he was furious beyond words.
“What did you pay Francil for her support, mother?” he asked, loud enough to be heard throughout the Hall.
“Kneel with your commander and take the oath, Captain.” R’shiel was astounded that she was able to keep her temper so well.
“Afraid to answer my question?” he taunted. “Should I tell the good Sisters what you offered in return for Lord Pieter’s support? Your own daughter? Ah, but then I forgot. She’s not your daughter, is she? You lied about that, too.”
“Kneel with your commander and take the oath, Captain!” Joyhinia cried, her anger finally surfacing in the face of his dreadful charges. The Gathering murmured worriedly, wondering if there was any truth to Tarja’s accusations.
Tarja met her anger with a rage that matched it, breath for breath. “Never!”
Pale and shaking with fury, Joyhinia suddenly turned to the Lord Defender. “I will take your oath now, my Lord.”
Still on one knee before Joyhinia, Jenga turned and glanced over his shoulder at Tarja. “Kneel, Captain,” he said, his tone as close to begging as it was ever likely to get. “Take the oath.”
“Not if it costs me my life,” Tarja said.
“The oath, my Lord,” Joyhinia reminded him frostily.
“Why doesn’t she order him arrested?” R’shiel whispered to Davydd. “Why is she insisting Jenga take the oath?”
“She can’t order Jenga to do anything until he does,” he whispered.
“A moment, your Grace,” Jenga said, rising to his feet. He turned to Tarja. “You have brought disgrace on the Defenders, Captain. To take this oath with you present, while you defy the First Sister, is unconscionable. You will leave this Gathering and place yourself under house arrest until I can deal with your disobedience.”
Tarja stood in front of the Lord Defender for a moment, before saluting sharply. He then turned on his heel and strode toward the doors at the back of the Great Hall, his back stiff and unrelenting. The crowd parted for him and then closed again in his wake. R’shiel watched him leave in a cloud of anger and humiliation. She had not expected Jenga to turn on him so readily. She looked back at Joyhinia and felt such a surge of hatred that she trembled with it. At the front of the Hall, Jenga once more knelt, and his voice rang out clear and strong as he repeated the Oath of Allegiance to the new First Sister. The doors boomed shut, like a gong announcing Tarja’s impending doom.
“Tarja’s in a lot of trouble, isn’t he?” she said, glancing at the young lieutenant.
“He surely is,” Davydd agreed. “If they can catch him.”
“What do you mean?” she whispered.
“By ordering him out of the Hall before he took the oath, Jenga’s given Tarja time to get away.” He pushed himself backward and rose to a crouch. “Come on, we’d better get out of here, too.”
R’shiel followed Davydd back the way they had come, wondering at his words. Had Jenga really ordered Tarja out, to give him a chance to escape Joyhinia’s wrath? And if he had, would Tarja be smart enough to take the opportunity Jenga offered him, or would he stay to face the consequences of his rebellion? Knowing Tarja, it was
