Keela stopped ranting as Tarja approached and stared at him with his one good eye. The other eye was clouded by a cataract which made the wizened old man seem even crazier than he really was.
“Go home, Keela,” Tarja told the old man. His words brought a disappointed murmur from the crowd. They wanted a fight.
“The gods seek the demon child,” Keela replied in an eminently reasonable tone.
“Well they won’t find him in the Bordertown markets,” Tarja pointed out sternly. “Go home before you get into trouble, old man.”
“Father! What are you doing?” A young woman dressed in poorly made homespun pushed through the crowd, alarmed by the Defenders confronting her father. She glanced at the old man and then hurried over to Tarja and looked up at him desperately. “Please, Captain! You know he’s not right in the head. Don’t arrest him!”
“I wasn’t planning to, Daana,” Tarja assured the young woman. “But I suggest you take him home before someone takes exception to his public speaking.”
“I will, Captain,” she promised. “And thank you.”
Daana hurried over to the old man and pulled him down from the fountain. As she dragged him without resistance past Tarja he looked up and grinned crookedly.
“You’ve been touched by the demon child, Captain,” Keela told him with an insane chuckle. “I can see it in your aura.”
Tarja shook his head at the old man. “Well, I’ll be sure to give the demon child your regards when I see him.”
“Mock me all you want,” Keela chuckled. “The demon child is coming!”
Daana managed to drag her father away as the disappointed crowd dispersed. Tarja turned his horse toward the Headquarters on the other side of the square.
The Defenders’ Headquarters were located in a tall, red-brick building. It boasted a rather grand arched entrance that led into a courtyard in the hollow center of the building. Another troop was preparing to depart as they rode through the archway. The captain, Nikal Janeson, waved to them as they entered. He finished his discussion with the Quartermaster, then walked over to Tarja as he reined in his mount. The Quartermaster raised a laconic hand in greeting before disappearing inside the building. It was hard to believe he was the Lord Defender’s brother. Verkin claimed he tolerated him because he would rather have Dayan Jenga cheating the local merchants on behalf of the Defenders than have him cheating the Defenders on behalf of the local merchants.
“Let me guess. Festival of Jelanna?” Nikal asked, taking in the various bandages and slings Tarja’s troop wore. It was Nikal who had made Tarja learn the Hythrun calendar when he first arrived in Bordertown four years ago.
“And thanks to Gawn, they got away,” he told Nikal as he dismounted. Ritac stepped forward and took Tarja’s reins, leading his mount through the crowded courtyard to the stables. “You heading out along the Border Stream?”
Nikal nodded. “The week after next is the Festival of Bhren, the God of Storms. Damned if I know how they get anything done in Hythria. They seem to spend an inordinate amount of time stuffing their faces in honor of their gods.”
Tarja smiled briefly, then his expression grew serious. “While you’re out there, you might want to reassure the farmsteaders that they won’t be taxed if they’re raided. It seems our young captain took it upon himself to instigate a few changes while he was out on his own.”
Nikal glanced at Gawn. “Damned fool.”
Gawn had dismounted and approached the two captains. His bearing was stiff and unyielding as he nodded to Nikal politely before turning to Tarja.
“I must inform you, sir, that I intend to make a full report to Commandant Verkin regarding your reprehensible actions. I imagine he will want to see you as soon as I have made my report.”
“Reprehensible?” Nikal asked with a grin.
“For your information, sir, Captain Tenragan attacked me viciously for no reason!” With that, the young captain turned on his heel and strode toward the main building.
“Your mistake, my friend,” Nikal said as he watched him leave, “was letting the stupid bastard live.”
“Don’t think I wasn’t tempted.”
“Well, he’s right about one thing, Verkin does want to see you.” Nikal gathered up his reins and swung into his saddle. “There’s been quite a few changes since you left. Trayla’s dead, for one thing.”
“Dead? How?”
“Murdered by a heathen, from what I hear.” Nikal glanced over his shoulder at his troop to assure himself they were ready to depart. “I’ll let Verkin fill you in. I have to get going.” He leaned down and shook Tarja’s hand warmly. “It’s been good having you here, Tarja. I shall miss you.”
“You’ll not be gone for that long.”
“No, but you will. You’ve been recalled to the Citadel, my friend.”
chapter 3
R’shiel hurried along the broad walkway to the Citadel’s Lesser Hall, buttoning the collar of her green Novice’s tunic as she half-walked, half-ran along the vine-covered brick path. She was late for Joyhinia’s reception, and her tardiness was among the many unforgivable sins her mother frequently criticized her for.
R’shiel did not want to be at the reception for Sister Jacomina, the new Mistress of Enlightenment. She was not looking forward to an evening of standing around in the Lesser Hall being accosted by her mother’s followers, who would ask her interminable questions about subjects she had no wish to discuss in public.
R’shiel was firmly convinced that Joyhinia had no friends, only followers. She hated being the daughter of a Quorum member. She often wished she had been born a boy. Then she could have joined the Defenders. It would be nice to be free from the shadow of her mother’s overweening ambition.
She reached the entrance to the Lesser Hall just as the Citadel’s walls began the Dimming. Some of the younger Novices whispered that it was magic that made the walls of the Citadel brighten slowly at the dawn of each new day and dim to darkness with the setting of the sun. The Probates simply considered it a unique architectural feature that was beyond the understanding of the Novices. R’shiel thought this a much more likely explanation. The Sisters preferred not to discuss it at all. Tarja told her it was because hundreds of years ago the Citadel had been a complex of heathen Temples. Whatever the reason, the glowing walls flooded even the deepest recesses of the huge white fortress with its hundred halls, both grand and humble, with soft white light. It also reminded R’shiel that she was late.
The faint sound of massed voices reached her ears as she eased open the heavy door to the Lesser Hall. Novices and Probates were required to gather each evening in the Great Hall, led by the senior Sisters, to give thanks to Sister Param and the Founding Sisters for their deliverance from the bonds of pagan worship. R’shiel had learned to recite the Daily Affirmation as a small child and knew well the punishment for not joining in enthusiastically. Harith’s cane was accurate and painful. The only benefit of being ordered to attend this reception that R’shiel could think of was that she had been exempted from attending the Affirmation.
The Lesser Hall was lit with hundreds of candles against the inevitable Dimming, although the walls had only just begun to lose their radiance. It was about half the size of the Great Hall, which meant it could still accommodate five hundred people comfortably. The domed ceiling, supported by tall, elegantly fluted columns, was painted a stark white – no doubt to cover the licentious heathen artwork underneath. The walls were white, like all the walls in the Citadel, and were made of the strange, impervious material that glowed and dimmed with the reliability of a Defender’s Oath. R’shiel glanced around and spied Joyhinia talking to Sister Jacomina and the Karien Envoy on the far side of the Hall as she edged her way along the wall. With luck, she would be able to convince her mother she had been here on time. R’shiel rarely defied her mother openly – she was not that foolish – but she was adept at walking the fine line between compliance and defiance.
Joyhinia looked up and caught sight of her with a frown. R’shiel gave up trying to hide and decided to brazen it out. She squared her shoulders and walked purposefully through the gathered Sisters and Defenders to greet her mother.
