chapter 45
R’shiel suffered through the uncomfortable wagon ride, wondering what was going to happen to them. The savageness of Ghari’s hatred surprised her. Tarja had passed out again. A trickle of blood from the wound on the back of his head had dried on his cheek. If her hands were not tied, she would have wiped it away. As it was, all she could do was look at him and hope that the others would be more reasonable than Ghari.
After a time, the wagon was hauled to a stop, and rough hands reached for her in the darkness, pulling her from the wagon bed and bustling her inside the darkened farmhouse. She was pushed down a flight of stone stairs. A dim light beckoned and then brightened as a door opened. R’shiel was shoved through, followed by two men who carried Tarja. They dumped him unceremoniously on the straw-covered floor. Large barrels stood against the far wall. Padric was there, seated on a small keg. In the lantern light, the cellar appeared full of threatening shadows. Ghari and his companions arranged themselves around the walls, watching both R’shiel and Tarja’s unconscious form warily.
“Welcome back.” Padric looked old and tired rather than threatening. The old man spared the unconscious rebel a glance. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“No. He’ll come around.”
The old man stood up and walked to where Tarja lay sprawled on the floor. He looked down at him for a moment, shook his head sadly, then turned to R’shiel.
“Why?”
R’shiel did not answer him, not at all certain that she could.
Before Padric could ask anything else, the door flew open and a fairhaired young man burst in. He stopped dead at the sight of Tarja’s prone form and glanced at Padric, his brown eyes widening even further at the sight of R’shiel.
“What is it, Tampa?” Padric asked.
“The Kariens! They’re here!”
“Don’t exaggerate, boy. Tell me exactly what Filip told you.”
“Filip said,” Tampa began, catching his breath, “that the Envoy’s boat docked in Testra just before midday and the Karien Envoy would pay a hundred gold rivets for the red-headed girl who is traveling with Tarja, no questions asked. He said the news is all over the docks in town.”
Tampa had obviously been coached in the message he was to deliver, and he sighed with satisfaction when he finally got it out. R’shiel went cold all over.
“The Karien Envoy is just a lecherous old man,” Tarja remarked, from the floor. R’shiel wondered how long he had been conscious. He had pushed himself up on one elbow and met Padric’s gaze. “But it’s not him who wants R’shiel. It’s his priest.”
“Who asked you?” Ghari growled, sinking his booted foot hard into Tarja’s back. The rebel collapsed with a pain-filled grunt and rolled over, away from Ghari’s next kick.
“Enough! You can get your revenge later, Ghari. Get him up.”
Two of the rebels hauled Tarja to his feet. The wound on his head had reopened and blood trickled down his neck.
Padric turned his gaze on Tarja. “Let’s forget that you’re a treacherous liar for a minute and tell me why you say that.”
Tarja shook off the men who were holding him and stood a little straighten “Joyhinia promised R’shiel to the Karien Envoy in return for his help in deposing Mahina. If he wants R’shiel now, it’s only to get what he feels he’s been cheated of. The Kariens are playing their own games, Padric. Don’t get involved.”
“At least the Kariens believe in the gods.”
“Have you ever been to Karien, Padric?” Tarja asked. “They don’t believe in the gods. They only believe in one god. They’re zealots. They plan to convert the whole world to the Overlord, even if it means slaughtering every nonbeliever to do it. Dealing with them would be worse than dealing with the Sisterhood.”
Padric looked at R’shiel curiously. “A hundred gold rivets is a lot money. Why does he want you so badly?”
R’shiel looked at Tarja for help. She didn’t know the answer.
“The priest who travels with Pieter claims he had a vision.”
“That’s a good enough reason to get rid of her, right there.” Padric rubbed his chin. “Although, if you are right about this, we could use it to our advantage. I’ve no wish to see the Kariens triumph in anything. As you say, they are no friend to our kind. But it would weaken the Sisterhood considerably if the Karien alliance were destroyed.”
“That treaty is the only thing keeping the Kariens on the other side of the border. Destroy it and you are asking for even worse trouble than you have now.”
Tarja took a deep breath before he answered. “Padric, think about this. Handing R’shiel over to the Kariens won’t wreck the alliance; if anything, it will strengthen it. She’s already been promised to them. You would simply be carrying out Joyhinia’s wishes.”
“Maybe. But the Envoy wasn’t expecting to have to pay for her. And a hundred gold rivets is a fortune. Given the trouble you two have caused, it seems small compensation.”
“You’d sell me to the Kariens!”
Padric turned on R’shiel impatiently. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t! You never believed in our cause. All you did was stir the passions of our young men and abandon us at the first sign of trouble. We owe you nothing. I don’t know what the Envoy wants with you, and I don’t really care.”
“Given a choice between feeding starving pagan families for a year or saving R’shiel’s precious neck, I know which one I’d choose,” Ghari added.
“They want her because she’s Harshini,” Tarja said tonelessly.
“What?” R’shiel stared at him, shocked. “That’s ludicrous! If that’s your idea of helping, Tarja, I’d rather you didn’t!”
“She’s your sister!”
“She’s a foundling. R’shiel was born in the Mountains, not at the Citadel. If you don’t believe me, ask Brak. He’s Harshini, too.”
“You can do better than that, Tarja. We checked the inn where Ghari found you. There is no sign of Brak. Only the former First Sister and a
The news that Brak was gone did not surprise him. He had a habit of deserting when Tarja needed him the most. “I’m not lying, Padric.”
“Oh? It seems even R’shiel thinks you are. What say you, R’shiel? Are you a Divine One come among us mere mortals?”
She looked at him, puzzled and angry. “Of course not!”
“Well, that settles it then. Take her up to the stables.”
“Padric! Don’t do this! Even if you have no care for R’shiel, think of the consequences! If the Kariens learn the Harshini still live, they’ll be over the border in a matter of weeks, and the Purge will seem like a picnic by comparison!”
The old man turned back to him. “I don’t believe the Harshini exist anymore.”
R’shiel looked at Tarja, willing him to say something, anything, that would change Padric’s mind.
“You can’t just hand her over to him like she’s a piece of meat!”
“I can,” Padric said. “That’s one thing I learned from you, Tarja. How to be ruthless. The Karien Envoy wants the girl, we will get a hundred gold rivets to continue the fight, and best of all, you will suffer for it. That’s plenty of incentive, don’t you think?”
