Harshini

defied her. You helped the rebels who challenged her. You got caught. You escaped. You fought the Kariens and then led the resistance against them, too. Every ill-advised, impetuous, accidental thing you've done since you refused to swear that oath to Joyhinia has made you a hero, like it or not.”

“That's ridiculous!”

“As a matter of fact, it is, but it doesn't make it any less real. You are the only man in Medalon the Defenders, the people and the pagan rebels will follow. You count the High Prince of Hythria as a friend and we're going to need him. He'll come to our aid because you asked him. I'm damn sure he wouldn't come if I did.” Garet smiled then and added, “Even half the damned Sisterhood will fall in behind you - at least the younger ones who devoted a good part of their Novitiate to trying to catch your eye.”

Even Tarja allowed himself a smile over that. As a Cadet, Garet Warner had once called him in to his office to inform him that he and Georj were no longer permitted to study in the library when the Novices were in class, as Sister Mahina considered their presence “disruptive”. His smile faded and he shook his head.

“I don't want to rule Medalon, Garet. Not even temporarily.”

“I know. That's why I'm offering you the job. If I thought for a moment that you had your eye on the post, I would never have mentioned it. We need someone who cares about setting things right. I've had enough of people who hunger after power for its own sake. That's the whole point of getting rid of the Sisterhood.”

“You can't make me do it.”

“Fine. Then give me a name. Find me one man in the whole of Medalon that can do what you can do, and I'll never bring the subject up again.”

Tarja sighed. “Let me think about it.”

“We don't have time. Tomorrow morning, when the Citadel wakes up, we'd better be damned sure we know what we're doing or Harith will have the Sisters of the Blade back in charge so fast your feet won't even touch the ground between here and the nearest gallows.”

Before he could answer, the door banged open and R'shiel stormed into the office with Brak on her heels. She barely even glanced at him, for which Tarja was grateful. The inevitable confrontation between them had once more been delayed. Her quest to find Loclon had kept her out of his way all day.

“How nice of you to join us, demon child,” Garet remarked.

R'shiel did not seem to notice the sarcasm. “I just spoke to Symin. He said you're going to release the Kariens tomorrow.”

“That's always been our plan.”

“You can't open the gate. I haven't found Loclon yet.”

“I'm not going to hold two thousand Kariens prisoner on your whim, R'shiel. The priests and the dukes will be enough.”

“This is not a whim. He's more dangerous than you know. We have to find him.”

“Then I'll post extra men on the gate to see that he doesn't slip through, but the Kariens are going, R'shiel, and that's final.”

She looked over her shoulder at Brak, seeking his support. She did not look at Tarja.

“I can appreciate your desire to get the Kariens out of the Citadel, Commandant,” Brak agreed reasonably. “But R'shiel is right. Loclon poses a danger that you would be unwise to ignore.”

“A danger to whom, exactly?” Garet asked. “He's your enemy, not mine.”

“Don't you understand?” R'shiel cried in frustration. “Loclon was the one controlling Joyhinia's body! It was Loclon who was aiding the Kariens ever since we tried to remove Joyhinia at the Gathering. Founders, Garet, he's the single, most heinous traitor ever to draw breath in Medalon!”

Suddenly she turned on Tarja. “Tell him, Tarja! Tell him I speak the truth!”

The pain in her eyes almost broke his heart. She needed his support. But finding Loclon in the Citadel would be like sifting through a pile of sand looking for one particular grain.

“She's right,” he admitted. “He's a traitor, and if we can find him, we should.” R'shiel smiled at him gratefully, which made him feel even worse, knowing what he was going to say next. “But we can't afford to hold those Kariens. We don't have the men to guard them, or the resources to feed them. Until we're relieved, every mouthful of food in the Citadel is going to be rationed. I'm sorry, R'shiel. I know what this means to you and I want to see Loclon brought to justice as much as you do, but I agree with Garet. We open the gates tomorrow.”

She stared at him, stunned by his response. Brak stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder, as if preparing to restrain her. Tarja wondered for a moment about the half-breed Harshini. For all his laconic scepticism, he seemed to truly care for R'shiel. There was a time when Tarja thought Brak loathed her.

“There! You have it from the Lord Defender, himself. The Kariens leave first thing tomorrow.”

“From who?” R'shiel demanded, shaking Brak off.

“The Lord Defender,” Garet repeated calmly.

“Tarja is the Lord Defender? When did that happen?”

“Just now. The position became available, and as the ranking officer in the Citadel, I decided to appoint him.”

“You're going to let Loclon get away with everything he's done to you, to me, to Medalon, just so you can be the Lord Defender?” She was trembling with suppressed rage. Her violet eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“It's not like that, R'shiel.”

“Isn't it?” she asked bitterly. “You've been marked as the next Lord Defender since the day you joined the Cadets, Tarja. Everybody in the whole damned Citadel knew you'd eventually get the job. Well, I hope the title makes you happy. I never thought you would stoop so low to take it.”

She turned and fled the room. Tarja expected Brak to follow her, but he did not move.

“Sort this out now, Tarja,” he advised. “It'll only get worse if you don't.”

Tarja stared at him for a moment then swore softly as he rose to his feet to follow her.

* * *

“R'shiel!” he called as she ran down the wide marble staircase leading to the dark deserted foyer. “Damn it, R'shiel! Wait!”

She turned to look up at him. The torches set high in the wall sconces cast deceptive shadows over her face. He stopped several steps above her, panting from the chase.

“I didn't mean to hurt you, R'shiel. I'm sorry.”

“No, you're not.”

“Then what do you want me to say? Don't you think I want Loclon as much as you do? But Garet's right, and you damned well know it. We can't hold the Kariens here.”

“There was a time when you would have done anything for me.”

He found he couldn't answer her. Memories flooded through him, reminding him that she spoke an awful truth he was not prepared to face. She studied his face, reading the conflict, the confusion, and even the self- loathing that had plagued him since he recovered from the wound he received trying to save her from the Kariens.

“That time is past, now, isn't it?” she said softly, bitterly. She knew about the geas, he realised. And that he was no longer bound by it.

“R'shiel...” he murmured helplessly. He had no idea what to say. No words to express what he felt.

She nodded, as if accepting the inevitable. “The irony is, I saved your life because I couldn't bear the thought of being parted from you and I ended up losing you, anyway. Did you ever truly love me, Tarja?”

For a long, dreadful moment, he did not answer her. In the end, he settled for the truth. “I don't know.”

She looked away for a moment, perhaps to prevent him seeing her pain. When she turned back to him, her eyes were cold.

“Free the Kariens if you must, Tarja. I'll just have to keep a watch on the gate for Loclon myself.”

“We'll find him, R'shiel,” he promised.

She shook her head sadly. “No, Tarja, we won't be doing anything together any more. I'll find Loclon and deal with him on my own. You're the Lord Defender now. You have Medalon to rule.”

Like a man donning chain mail before a battle, she had surrounded herself with an impenetrable shell,