“Don't let me go, Brak.”
“I won't.”
She stood there for a long time, leaning into Brak's solid strength as the Kariens picked up their staffs and filed through the gate beneath her. Towards the end of the line, another small commotion broke out as the three priests left discovered they did not have a staff they could claim.
“Seems someone decided to collect a few souvenirs,” Brak remarked.
“Looks like it,” she agreed distantly.
R'shiel watched the last of the priests leave. She heard the gate close behind them, then turned to watch as they ran towards their forces on the other side of the Saran. She did not let go of the power until they had crossed the bridges and put the shallow river between them and the Citadel.
The celebration that was organised to mark the departure of the priests had been harder to arrange. R'shiel had eventually convinced Tarja that it would be good for morale, but more than that, it would annoy the Sisterhood. Even Garet didn't mind annoying the Sisterhood, and with the strict rationing the Defenders had imposed, they were in no danger of running out of food. A bit of largesse would go a long way to easing the minds of the population, she pointed out reasonably, and there were still a lot of Sisters of the Blade in the Citadel, looking for any excuse to stir up trouble. She had listed all her reasons calmly and didn't even try to pick a fight with Garet Warner. Tarja eventually agreed and had given Captain Grannon the task of organising such a mammoth affair. All R'shiel had to do now was convince the Harshini to do their part.
The dormitories where the Harshini were quartered were nothing like those R'shiel remembered living in. The whole building glowed with light and colour. She walked the corridors with her mouth agape at what had been hidden under the whitewash, until she reached the place Shananara was using as a dayroom. It had been the Mistress of the Sisterhood's office until recently.
“I hear there was some trouble at the gate,” Shananara remarked as R'shiel knocked on the open door.
“The priests took exception to my presence,” R'shiel told her with a shrug. “But I discouraged them from doing anything about it.”
“I know,” the Harshini Queen replied with a grimace. “I have the headache to prove it. I really wish you would learn some restraint, R'shiel. You can be very exhausting at times.”
“I'm sorry.”
Shananara smiled and indicated that R'shiel should sit. The heavy furniture seemed out of place now. With the walls restored to their former glory, these rooms needed light, airy pieces, not the cumbersome dark furniture the Sisterhood favoured.
“Brak tells me you have a plan.”
“I need your help,” she said, taking the seat opposite the Queen.
“We cannot help you destroy Xaphista, R'shiel. For that matter, I could not help you if you wanted to step on a bug.”
“I know that. And I won't ask anything of the Harshini that goes against their nature - but I need to distract his believers for a while.”
“Distract them? How?” Shananara asked suspiciously.
R'shiel explained what she had in mind. The Queen listened to her, nodding occasionally, then finally laughing delightedly. “And you honestly think this ploy will work?”
“Brak seems to think it will.”
“Yes, well Brak is half-human. It would probably appeal to his rather skewed sense of humour.”
“Then you'll help me?”
“Yes, demon child, the Harshini will help you.”
“Even knowing it may result in the destruction of a god?”
“I don't know that will happen for certain, R'shiel. For all I know, this will do nothing but annoy him.”
R'shiel nodded, aware that the Queen was right. Brak thought it might work, but none of them could be sure. “I have another favour to ask.”
“I'll grant it if I can.”
“I need you in the Temple of the Gods with me. I don't have the skill to do this alone.”
“I cannot take a direct hand in this, R'shiel.”
“No, but you can show me what I have to do.”
“Very well,” Shananara agreed with some reluctance. “But don't count on my help. I don't mean to sound like I'm threatening you, but I simply cannot do anything that goes against the nature of the Harshini. I will do what I can, but you may find, at the point where you need my help the most, I will be useless to you.”
“I'm prepared to risk that.”
“Then I will be there, demon child. And may the gods guide our hands.”
R'shiel had one other task to perform before she was ready, and when she left Shananara, she hurried through the streets to the Defenders' blacksmith shop. They had finished the job she had asked them to do and she examined their handiwork closely, careful not to brush against it, until she was satisfied that it was exactly what she had asked for. The sergeant in charge of the forge smiled as she looked over it.
“You can touch it, lass. It doesn't bite, you know.” He was shouting to be heard over the ringing of hammers on metal. The smiths and the fletchers had been working non-stop for days, turning out weapons and arrows to be stockpiled in case of a Karien attack.
“Actually, Joulen, it does bite.” She straightened up and nodded in satisfaction. “Can you get one of your men to take it over to the Great Hall for me? Ask them to put it near the Seeing Stone.”
“Aye, if that's what you want.”
“It is, thank you.”
It was late afternoon when R'shiel left the blacksmith's forge, satisfied she had done all that she could for the time being. All that was needed now was for Xaphista to walk into her trap.
CHAPTER 58
Music from the amphitheatre drifted on the night as musicians warmed up their instruments. The Citadel blazed softly under a cloudless, blue-velvet sky. R'shiel looked down over the Karien camp from the wall-walk at the scattered fires that pierced the plain like dollops of hot blood in the darkness. The fires stretched as far as she could see. She had done everything she could think of, covered every contingency.
There was nothing left to do now but wait.
“It's been pretty quiet down there since we let the priests go.”
She glanced at Tarja, aware that he was rather uncomfortable. This was the first time they had been alone since her return. She had brought him here to talk to him undisturbed. That was never going to happen in his office. There were things she needed to say to him, for her own peace of mind, if nothing else.
“They're probably down there plotting our downfall,” she remarked, trying to sound lighthearted.
“I'd say that was almost a certainty.”
She glanced at him, but he was staring down at the plain with determination. His profile was guarded. “Tarja.”
“Yes?”
“I'm sorry.”
He turned to look at her. “For what?”
