toward him. Glancing quickly around the kitchen, he realized there was nowhere to hide. Even had he found a place of concealment, his muddy footprints left a telltale trail straight across the floor. Tarja sighed and stepped back against the wall as Mahina stomped into the kitchen. If he could not hide, then there was no point in trying to.
“Hello, Mahina,” he said as she stormed into the room.
She squawked with surprise at the unexpected voice and spun around to face him. “By the Founders, what are you doing here?”
“Escaping.”
“Escaping?” she scoffed. “What took you so damned long? You’ve been here two months or more. Like the food, do you?”
“I’ve had my reasons.”
“Fine. Escape then. Why are you hanging around here?”
“I came for R’shiel. She’s in danger.”
“Well you’re too damned late,” Mahina snapped in annoyance.
A door opened off the side of the kitchen, and Sunny stepped into the room, rubbing her eyes sleepily. They widened at the sight of Tarja, and she glanced at Mahina.
“I heard voices.” Sunny appeared uncertain as to how she should react to finding Tarja in the kitchen admitting to an escape.
“You heard nothing,” Mahina snapped at the young woman. “Where is R’shiel?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since lunch.”
“We have to find her,” Tarja said, as it occurred to him that if Loclon was still in the town, he might well be the ranking officer at present. That gave him almost unlimited power until Wilem returned.
“Why?” Mahina asked. “So you can get her into even more trouble?”
“Loclon raped her on the journey here.” Sunny nodded in agreement as Mahina glared at both of them. “You know the penalty for rape, Mahina. If she ever reports it, he’s as good as dead. He has to silence her.”
Mahina’s faded eyes grew cold. “I’ve had just about enough of Loclon,” she snarled. “That arrogant little upstart just sent an order for me to attend to him. Can you believe that? He demanded that I come to him to deliver a whipping to... Oh! By the Founders...” Mahina’s face paled in the lamplight.
“What?” Tarja asked impatiently.
“Tarja, I think he’s already found her.” She sank down into a chair, looking every one of her sixty-seven years. “He ordered me to deliver a whipping to a female convict who was attempting to escape. Do you suppose it’s R’shiel? He wouldn’t ask me to do that, would he?”
“Oh, yes he would.”
Mahina stood up purposefully. “I think perhaps it’s time I had a little chat with Captain Loclon.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t be stupid, Tarja. Escape while you can.” She reached up and touched his cheek fondly. “Don’t let what has happened sway your resolve, Tarja. Medalon needs you. Go back to the rebellion, get it moving again and unseat your damned mother. I’ll take care of Loclon.”
“I plan to,” he promised her. “But I’m not letting you confront Loclon alone.”
Mahina grabbed her cloak off the hook on the back of the door and slipped it over her shoulders. Sunny stared at them blankly, as if she didn’t understand what was happening.
“Come if you must, Tarja,” Mahina said, “Just don’t get in my way. I have a few things I want to say to young Mister Loclon.”
Tarja opened the door for her. Together they ran toward the stables. The rain was still pelting down to the accompaniment of a thunderous orchestra. They shook off the raindrops as they entered the relatively dry stables. Mahina reached up and hooked the lantern she had brought from the kitchen on a nail driven into the doorframe.
“You haven’t changed a bit, you know,” Tarja told her as he led the first horse out of the stall.
“We’ll need a horse for R’shiel, too. And yes, I have changed,” she corrected. “Now I’m meaner.”
He had finished saddling the horses when Sunny suddenly appeared at the entrance to the stable, clutching one of Crisabelle’s impractical velvet cloaks around her, not caring that the rain was ruining the garment.
“Can I come, too?” she begged. “If they know I saw you and didn’t raise the alarm, I’ll be whipped.”
Tarja had no particular feelings for Sunny, one way or the other, but having been on the receiving end of the lash, it was not a punishment he would wish on anyone. And she spoke the truth. Annoyed by the added burden but unable to see any other course open to him, he nodded.
“Can you ride?”
“I’ll learn as I go,” the
Tarja accepted the gift and helped her up into the saddle of the mount he had picked out for R’shiel. “Come on then. And you’d better keep up. We won’t wait for you.”
Sunny wiggled uncomfortably in the saddle. “I’ll be just fine, Captain.”
Tarja swung up into the saddle of his own mount and led the old woman and the
chapter 41
“Trying to escape, eh?” Loclon asked. R’shiel backed away from him, bumping into the wet bulk of the trooper behind her. “That’s what she was doing, wasn’t it, Corporal Lenk?”
“Runnin‘ flat out across the Square, sir,” Lenk agreed. “Where were you running to?”
R’shiel did not bother to answer. There seemed little point.
“What’s the punishment for attempting to escape, Corporal?”
“Five lashes I believe, sir,” Lenk replied helpfully.
“Five lashes? Delivered publicly?”
“No, sir. The Commandant don’t allow women to be lashed in public. It’s done by one of the Sisters, out of sight.”
“Then be so good as to deliver a message to Sister Mahina, Corporal,” Loclon said, leaning back in Wilem’s chair with a proprietary air. “Tell her that I have a prisoner in custody who requires a lashing, and I would be most grateful, if the good Sister would attend to it for me.”
“Sir... well, it’s usually Sister Prozlan who does it, sir. Sister Mahina, well... she’s retired.”
“You have your orders, Corporal. The prisoner will be fine with me.”
Lenk glanced at his companion for a moment before he saluted and left the office, his partner in tow. R’shiel glanced at the door, wondering if she could get through it before Loclon reached her.
“By all means, try to escape,” he suggested, turning the whip over and over in his hands, almost lovingly. “That would be two attempted escapes in the one day. Ten lashes. Maybe you could get through them without a whimper like your brother did, but I doubt it. Ah, but then he’s not your brother anymore, is he? You’re nothing but a nameless bastard, these days. My, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Why did you send for Mahina?” she asked.
Loclon stood up, walking slowly around the desk, stroking the plaited leather tails.
“Well, you see, Mahina will either send Lenk off to see Prozlan, or she’ll come here herself. Either way, I don’t care. Watching you lashed by that old hag you call a friend would almost be as much fun as doing it myself.”
She backed away from him as he approached her, afraid to turn her back on him, moving deeper into the room, until eventually she met the solid resistance of Wilem’s desk. Loclon took another step toward her. Trapped by the bulk of the desk she looked around, realizing her mistake. Loclon stood between her and the door. She was trembling, soaked to the skin. He moved closer.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned.
