not.”
Joyhinia glanced at her Quorum, judging their reactions. Joyhinia’s story fascinated R’shiel. This was finally the truth – finally she would have the answers she had come here to seek.
“I took the child back to Testra with me and claimed the child as my own. I was wrong to let people think that, I know. But once again, I must plead youth and pride as my excuses. My mistake was thinking that my love and guidance could overcome her bad blood. This young woman you see before you now, is the result of my foolishness, my weakness.” Joyhinia looked up at R’shiel. She actually had tears in her eyes. “This girl who has betrayed us all so badly is the result of my folly. Perhaps I loved her too much. Perhaps I was too lenient with her. My son had been such a disappointment to me that I put all my hopes in a foundling. And now she repays my kindness by turning on us in our most desperate hour.”
Harith frowned as she looked at R’shiel. “I always wondered what Tarja was talking about when he faced you down at the Gathering. How did you get Jenga to play along with you all these years?”
“Jenga and I had – an understanding. He owed me a favor.”
“Some favor! Whatever you have on him, Joyhinia, it must be something dreadful. I never thought Jenga capable of a deliberate lie. You have actually managed to surprise me.”
Which was exactly what Joyhinia had intended, R’shiel realized. This confession was nothing to do with her. This was Joyhinia in damage control. Joyhinia was distancing herself from R’shiel as fast as she could.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Jacomina snarled at R’shiel as she put a comforting arm around Joyhinia’s shoulders. “After all Joyhinia has done for you. To betray her so foully.”
R’shiel could hold her tongue no longer.
“I tried to protect her,” Joyhinia told them, ignoring her outburst. “All I got for my trouble was a thief and a traitor. Where did I go wrong?”
Francil had listened to the entire discussion without uttering a word, and when she spoke, her question caught R’shiel completely off guard. “You’ve just heard the most startling news about your parentage, R’shiel, yet you don’t seem surprised. Did Joyhinia tell you of this before today?”
“Tarja learned the truth months ago. It was the happiest day of my life when he told me!”
“One wonders how he learned of it,” Francil said. “I recall him making that wild statement at the Gathering when he refused to take the oath. I hope you can keep the rest of the Sisterhood’s secrets better than you’ve kept this one, Joyhinia.”
The First Sister nodded meekly at the rebuke. “All I can promise is that I will do my utmost to see that this evil is cut out of both the Sisterhood and the Defenders.” She squared her shoulders determinedly. “I will begin by facing up to the fantasy I held dear for twenty years. This child is not mine – now or in the future. I will leave you to deal with her, Harith, and the other traitors who have defied us this day. Never let it be said that I tried to use my influence to secure leniency.”
R’shiel’s head pounded, the blood that rushed through her ears almost drowning out Joyhinia’s voice. It was as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted from her.
“Take her away,” Joyhinia ordered, with a touching and entirely false catch in her voice. “I cannot bear to look at her any longer.”
R’shiel was not certain what would happen now. A trial, perhaps? Maybe they would hang her alongside Tarja. At that moment, she didn’t care.
She cared only that she was finally free of Joyhinia.
chapter 29
R’shiel was marched, none too gently, through the corridors of the Administration Building. The walls were brightening rapidly and people stared as she was marched out into the streets toward the Defenders’ Headquarters. Eventually they reached the narrow hall that led into the cells where only last night, she had come to rescue Tarja. The corridor was lit with smoky torches. The Citadel had been built by the Harshini, and they had no need for prisons. The cell block was an addition erected later by the Sisterhood. R’shiel tripped on uneven flagstones in the seemingly endless corridor, until finally, in a spill of yellow lamplight, she found herself in a large open area filled with scattered tables and shadows.
“What’s this?”
“This is the Probate who helped them last night,” one of her escort explained. “The First Sister wants her locked up.”
“Bring her here,” the Defender said. R’shiel could detect the sneer in the man’s voice. She looked up, focusing her eyes on the captain and was rewarded with a startled laugh. “Well, well, well! If it isn’t Lady High ‘n’ Mighty herself!”
The sergeant who held her frowned as he looked at the young captain. “Don’t get too excited, Loclon. She’s still a Probate.”
“Go to hell, Oron,” Loclon snapped.
“Not at your invitation, thanks,” he retorted. The sergeant thrust R’shiel at Loclon and marched off.
Loclon stood back and let her fall. “Get up,” he ordered.
R’shiel stood slowly, aware that she was in some kind of danger. She grimaced at the ugly scar marring his once-handsome face. Loclon took exception to her gaze. He backhanded her soundly across the face. Without thinking, she lashed out with her foot in retaliation. Loclon dropped like a sack of wheat, screaming in pain, clutching his groin with both hands.
“You bitch!”
“What’s the matter?” R’shiel shot back. “Haven’t felt the touch of a woman there for a while?”
She regretted it almost as soon as she said it. Loclon was livid, and she had little chance to enjoy her victory. She was overwhelmed by the other guards who held her tightly as Loclon pulled himself up, using the corner of the table for support. This time he punched her solidly in the abdomen, making her retch as she doubled over in agony. He drew back his fist for another blow but was stopped by his corporal.
“Don’t be a fool, sir,” he urged. “She’s a Probate.”
Loclon heeded the man’s advice reluctantly. “Get her out of my sight.”
R’shiel was dragged across the hall into a waiting cell. The door clanged shut with a depressing thud. Holding her bruised abdomen, she felt her way along the wall, using it for support. Barking her shin on the uneven wood of the pallet, she collapsed onto it. Shaking with pain, R’shiel curled into a tight ball on the narrow pallet and wondered what they had done with Tarja.
Time lost all meaning for R’shiel in the days that followed her arrest. Only sparse daylight found its way into the cells. Only the begrudging delivery of meals and the changing of the guard regulated her days.
R’shiel soon learned there were two shifts guarding the cells. Following the abortive escape attempt, the guard had been trebled. The prisoners were no longer in the care of an easily distracted corporal. The first detail left her to herself, ignoring her and the other prisoners in favor of their gaming. The second shift was a different matter. It took R’shiel very little time to discover Loclon was nursing a grudge against the world in general and the Tenragan family in particular.
She knew Tarja was incarcerated in the next cell but never saw him, although she heard him sometimes, talking with the guards on the first shift. When Loclon was on duty though, he remained silent. R’shiel very quickly followed suit. A wrong word, a misdirected glance, would earn a slap at the very least, and on at least one occasion she heard Loclon deliver a savage beating to her unseen cellmate. R’shiel turned her face to the wall and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the next cell, hoping she would escape Loclon’s notice.
It was a futile hope. Loclon searched for excuses to punish her. After one meal, when she had refused to eat the slops she was served, he belted her across the cheek with his open hand which sent her flying, her head cracking painfully on the stone wall. She lay where she fell, forcing down the blackness, and made no move to fight back. If she did, he would call the other guards and use it as an excuse to beat her senseless while they held her
