Harshini

Had he tried to disband the Defenders, Mathen would have had a bloodbath on his hands, so he had wisely made no attempt to disarm them, and had, against Loclon's advice, left Garet Warner in charge, as the senior officer in the Citadel. Loclon didn't trust Garet Warner, although the man gave every indication of accepting the surrender. To Loclon, even wearing the body of the First Sister, the commandant's cooperation reeked of duplicity. Mathen, however, seemed unconcerned. He considered Garet a pragmatist, and while he obeyed orders, he was content to leave him be.

As for the Lord Defender, nobody, from Lord Roache down, was prepared to trust him. He had accepted the surrender unwillingly and actively abetted the deserters who now plagued them with acts of sabotage. There were even rumours that he had dispatched a large force to Hythria, which was massing to attack in the spring. Jenga was locked in the cells behind the Defenders' headquarters and there he would stay until Roache decided what to do with him. The Karien duke was reluctant to kill him out of hand. He may yet prove useful.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Mathen looked up and called permission to enter. Garet Warner stepped into the office, saluting Mathen and the First Sister politely when he stopped in front of the desk.

“Good morning, Squire. First Sister.”

“What is it, Commandant? Trouble over the execution today?”

“That's why I'm here. I thought perhaps it might be wise to post extra guards around the Citadel, in case things get out of hand.”

“That's probably a good idea. I'll send out to the camp for some extra men.”

“I was hoping to use the Defenders,” Garet said calmly. Joyhinia watched him with misgiving. Neither Loclon nor Joyhinia had ever liked Garet Warner. He was too clever by half.

“Why?” Mathen asked suspiciously.

“You're going to hang a Defender today, Squire. I'd prefer to have them kept busy. If you leave them off duty, they'll be in the stands as spectators.”

“Then they will learn a salutary lesson.”

“Or they might decide to object.”

Mathen thought on it for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. Use all the men you need. Preferably away from the amphitheatre.”

“I've made a list of strategic locations that would be at risk if anything were to happen. I'll see my men are sent to all those positions. They'll not think it strange, and as you say, it will keep them away from the amphitheatre.”

“Very good. Is that all?”

“There was one other thing,” Garet added, almost as an afterthought. “They're having trouble with the main gate. One of the pulleys has seized and they can't get it open. I've got the engineers working on it. It should be fixed some time this morning.”

Mathen looked annoyed. “A convenient day for that to happen. Are you sure it was an accident?”

The Commandant nodded. “It's not been tampered with, if that's what you mean. I checked on it myself this morning when I heard they were having trouble with it. You can inspect the problem yourself if you wish.”

“Just get the damned thing open,” Mathen snapped impatiently.

“As you wish, Squire.” Garet saluted smartly and turned towards the door. “I've taken the liberty of posting some men outside,” he added as he reached it. Then he looked over his shoulder at Joyhinia and smiled. “And I've arranged a special bodyguard for you too, your Grace. We don't want any incidents.”

Something about Garet Warner's manner screamed a warning to Loclon. He was much too calm, much too accepting of Tarja's hanging. Mathen returned his attention to the speech as Garet closed the door behind him.

“I changed the part here about traitorous deeds. It now reads: 'Captain Tenragan is a blight on the honour of the Defenders. His callow and cowardly deeds have shamed every citizen in Medalon'... and so on, and so on. It sounds better, don't you think? Calling him a traitor outright might stir up a few passions. Technically, he didn't betray Medalon, only Karien, and that wouldn't bother your people one whit, I suspect. We need to paint him as a coward, a criminal not worth... Are you listening to me?”

“He's up to something,” Joyhinia warned.

“Who? Tarja Tenragan?”

“Garet Warner.”

Mathen shrugged. “Undoubtedly.”

“Well, don't just sit there! We have to stop him!”

“I've taken precautions.”

“What precautions? You moved Jenga, that's all! I'm sure they're quaking in their boots!”

“Jenga is far more dangerous than Tarja Tenragan. The Lord Defender is a symbol of honour to every soldier in the Corps. I don't really care if they try to free Tarja. As you pointed out, this hanging will bring the troublemakers out of the woodwork. Let Warner try something. I've a hundred thousand men on the other side of that gate.”

“The gate is closed, you fool!”

Mathen looked at her for a moment and then swore viciously. He jumped to his feet and ran for the door, jerking it open. Suelen was gone. The anteroom was full of Defenders.

A sword pressing into his vest encouraged him to back up. The Defender holding the blade was a captain with the look of a man who wanted nothing more than to plunge his blade right through Mathen's chest.

“You idiot!” Joyhinia screamed at him. “I warned you!”

“Shut up, Joyhinia!” Mathen moved back far enough that the blade no longer touched him. For a tense moment he watched the Defenders who filed into the office with weapons drawn then addressed their captain.

“You cannot succeed, you know that, don't you?”

“No, actually I didn't know that,” the captain replied pleasantly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Even if you manage to take the Citadel, you can't get past our army.”

“We'll see.”

The captain was infuriatingly confident. Loclon had been a Defender and he knew that stupidity was not one of their traits. Nor was Garet Warner a man for taking unnecessary risks. If this man believed they could win, it was because they had something up their sleeve. Something Mathen had not anticipated.

“They've done something!” Joyhinia said with a panicked edge to her voice. “Look at him! He doesn't care about your army! They've poisoned the water or the food or something.”

“Nothing so crude, First Sister,” Garet Warner remarked as he stepped back into the office. He glanced around and then nodded to the captain. “Take Mathen down and put him with the others. Quietly. Commandant Foren should have control of the administration building by now. Once you've secured the Squire, get over to the guest quarters and see if Cadon needs any help rounding up the priests.”

“What about me?” Joyhinia demanded.

“Ah, now you we have special plans for, your Grace,” Garet told her in that calm, annoying and soft-spoken voice that even as a Defender Loclon had always loathed. “There's someone who is rather keen to deal with you personally.”

“Who?”

Garet smiled knowingly but didn't answer. With a sudden wave of nausea, Loclon guessed who it was. It accounted for the captain's confidence. It accounted for Garet's smug expression. Loclon knew she would come. It couldn't be anybody else. Not today. Not with Tarja's life in danger.

“R'shiel.” Joyhinia breathed the name fearfully, as though saying it aloud might cause her to suddenly materialise out of thin air.

“She's not here,” Mathen scoffed. “We've had priests watching for her. There's no way the demon child could have slipped into the Citadel without us knowing about it.”

“I think you'll be disappointed to learn your confidence in the priesthood is somewhat misplaced, Squire,” R'shiel told him, stepping into the room. Loclon felt the First Sister's knees give way as she turned to him. Behind her was another man he did not know. He had no time to wonder who it was.

He had envisaged her return so often that it did not seem real. She was not bound and helpless. She was not