Treason Keep

quick departure. He wanted her away from this place with a determination that bordered on obsession. Brak was a hard man to read. The only thing R’shiel was certain of was that he would stay by her, regardless of how he felt about what she was doing. She wasn’t even sure that Brak liked her very much, but he took his responsibilities seriously. He had killed the Harshini King to ensure her survival. To desert her now would make that act meaningless.

The doors closing with a hollow boom signalled the start of the meeting and every eye turned forward as the white-robed members of the Quorum filed on to the dais from the door at the back of the Hall. Traditionally, the First Sister entered last, a custom R’shiel was extremely grateful for. She sent out a mental call for Dranymire. The demon responded instantly, popping into existence beside her, his too-large eyes glittering in the gloom.

Are you ready?

May the gods be with us, Dranymire responded before he disappeared again.

“Be careful,” she whispered to the vanished demon.

She turned her attention to the dais, as Francil began reciting the ritual thanksgiving to the Founding Sisters. On the edge of her awareness, she could feel the demons forming the meld that would be Joyhinia. She pushed aside the distraction and reached inside herself, feeling the glow of the Harshini magic that nestled in her mind. She drew on the power carefully, as Brak had shown her, and formed the thoughts she wanted to impose on the Gathering although she held back releasing them. Her eyes darkened until they turned completely black, the whites of her eyes consumed by the power she gathered to her. As Francil’s dry voice finished the litany, the door leading from the small anteroom opened and the demon meld stepped onto the dais.

Dranymire and his brethren had done an impressive job. The Joyhinia they had formed was a little too tall perhaps, and her eyes had never been quite that shade of blue, but one would be hard pressed to tell her from the genuine article. Joyhinia stepped up to take her place with a commanding air, nodding in acknowledgment to the Quorum before turning to face the Gathering. It was against protocol, R’shiel knew, but she did not want to risk the meld for a moment longer than she had to. Joyhinia would stand up, make her announcement and then leave. R’shiel could not pick out Mahina among the sea of blue-robed sisters, but she trusted the old woman to be in place.

She held back the coercion with difficulty. The power, once tapped, did not like to be restrained. Sweat beaded her forehead and her eyes burned as she gripped the balustrade. Unconsciously, R’shiel mouthed the words of Joyhinia’s rehearsed speech, as the demon meld addressed the crowd.

“Sisters! It is good to be back among you, in these trying times.” The voice was too low, almost masculine, but it was so long since any of the sisters had heard Joyhinia speak, R’shiel doubted anybody would notice. “I have been on our northern border, supervising our efforts to repel the insolent Karien invasion of our sovereign nation.” The Gathering was silent as they listened to the First Sister, more curious than concerned. “Medalon will be safe in the hands of the Defenders and we must press all our efforts in that direction.”

“From what I hear, it was a Defender who got us into this mess!” a voice called from the back of the Hall.

R’shiel grimaced. She had not coached Dranymire to trade taunts with hecklers. The coercion laboured to be released. Her knuckles were white with the effort of holding it in. Dranymire ignored the comment and carried on, oddly enough, making the meld seem more like Joyhinia than ever.

“The single most important issue facing Medalon is our survival. Everything else is insignificant in comparison to this. Personal ambition, feelings and prejudices must be put aside.” That actually drew a spattering of applause. There were many Sisters who were more concerned with their duties than their careers. Having grown up in Joyhinia’s shadow, R’shiel had to occasionally remind herself of that.

Joyhinia waited a moment before she continued. R’shiel fervently hoped it was Dranymire pausing for dramatic effect, not fighting for control over the meld.

“To this end, I plan to step down from the position of First Sister and nominate the woman who I believe is the only one among us strong enough to see us through this: Mahina Cortanen.”

Pandemonium erupted in the Hall at Joyhinia’s announcement. R’shiel let go of the coercion, almost gagging as it descended on the Hall, forcing down the opposition like a wet blanket thrown on a fire.

R’shiel had known it would be uncomfortable, she remembered the feeling on the border when the Karien priests had coerced their troops, but she was not prepared for the wave of debilitating nausea that washed over her. Her knees buckled as she forced the women below to accept what they could not accept, to believe the unbelievable. She gritted her teeth, waiting for Mahina to step forward to accept the mantle of First Sister. The crowd settled as their thoughts were turned from rebellion to compliance, but there was no sign of the old woman. Joyhinia looked up toward the gallery uncertainly.

“I call forth Mahina Cortanen!”

Where is she? R’shiel forcibly held back the suspicions of the crowd, fighting the sickening feeling with all her strength. A movement at the back of the crowd caught her attention and she spied Mahina moving towards the dais with relief. It would be over soon. It was almost done.

Mahina finally stepped up to the platform and turned to face the Gathering. R’shiel could not imagine what she was thinking. As First Sister she was sworn to destroy all vestiges of Harshini magic, yet her appointment this night could not happen without it. She faced the Gathering with an unreadable expression as R’shiel forced the thousand or more Sisters present to accept her reinstatement.

“Do you accept my nomination?” Joyhinia asked.

“Yes!” came the unanimous, if somewhat muted reply. R’shiel needed them to agree. She did not have the skill to inspire them with enthusiasm.

“Then I declare Mahina Cortanen First Sister!”

There was no accompanying cheer, barely a murmur, in fact. Mahina did not wait for the customary accolades, in any case. The demon meld wobbled for an instant and R’shiel knew they could not hold it together much longer.

“Commandant, as the ranking officer of the Defenders in the Citadel, will you take the oath on behalf of the Lord Defender?”

“I will, your Grace,” Garet replied, stepping forward into the small clearing at the foot of the dais.

R’shiel fought off the crippling nausea as Garet drew his sword and laid it at the feet of the new First Sister. Not much longer, she told herself, understanding now why Brak had insisted she work the coercion and then leave immediately. She wanted to vomit and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay on her feet.

Garet knelt on one knee and began the oath in a voice that rang clearly through the Hall. A commotion at the edge of the crowd distracted R’shiel for a moment, but she ignored it. It was almost over. The demon meld shimmered but Dranymire managed to hold his brethren together. As soon as the Defenders were sworn to Mahina, Joyhinia could leave. It didn’t matter if the meld disintegrated the moment they were out of sight. The important thing was to prevent it falling into a puddle of little grey demons in full sight of the Gathering. R’shiel was coercing the Sisters into accepting Mahina’s appointment. If she were forced to cover for the demons, she would have to let that thought go. Even if she had the skill to perform such a task, she doubted she had the strength left.

R’shiel’s black eyes watered with the effort of forcing down the natural opposition of the Sisters in the Hall to this blatant breach of protocol. It was like trying to hold a surging ocean back with nothing more than a fishing net. As Brak had warned, for some the coercion settled on them with barely a flicker of protest, while other minds rebelled against the thoughts she imposed on them. That opposition surged up like a stormy sea. No sooner had she quieted one mind than another screamed in protest. The mental strength it took surprised her. Physically, she was on the point of exhaustion.

It seemed to take Garet forever to complete the oath. Time slowed as her vision narrowed to a pinpoint, fixed on the dais. It was all she could see, all she cared about. As the power consumed her, every sense not immediately involved in holding the coercion together seemed to shut down. She could no longer feel her fingers gripping the balustrade. She could no longer hear anything. The odour of damp wool cloaks that had permeated the Hall faded into nothing. She was isolated in a bubble of total concentration that allowed no room for any distraction.

“Stop this abomination! You are being deceived!”

The voice rang out from the back of the Hall, a male voice that startled the Sisters with its harsh Karien accent. R’shiel felt the Sisters’resistance to the coercion surge in response to the sudden cry and it slipped from her