personally to the marshal. Naturally, I went. The Hieros is not a woman to cross, and it seems some crossing has been done. She wants to see you immediately.' He scratched his neck.
Volias snorted. 'I would think Joss here is one of the foremost devotees of the Merciless One. I can't imagine how he would have come to offend the holy Hieros, as he never seems to turn down any offer made to him.'
Cursed if the old fawkner wasn't the finest kind of fellow, able to sail right past that idiot comment by Volias as if it had never been spoken.
'It's about that Devouring girl who tended to Marshal Alyon in his final illness, and then stayed and kept house — or so some claimed — for Marshal Yordenas during his vile tenure. But perhaps you don't know who she is.'
'I know who she is.' Joss was amazed at how cool his voice sounded. He picked up his cup and shook it, hoping there were a few drops to wet his throat, but he was dry.
'It's like this,' said Askar, sketching gestures in the air as folk did to start a tale. 'The young woman was sold to the temple as a girl, as happens, and was trained as a hierodule. Then just before the northerners besieged Olossi, her brother bought out her debt. I wasn't told the particulars, but the Hieros was forced to accept the payment he offered and therefore to let the girl walk free. Any fool with eyes could see the transaction made the Hieros unhappy, that her hand had been forced. Now it transpires the payment the brother offered didn't belong to him at all. She had to give it up to its rightful owner, and so she wants her hierodule back. And the brother punished for cheating the temple.'
'What's this to do with me?' asked Joss, as his thoughts tumbled. When had he seen her last? About two weeks ago, twenty-four
clays. She'd been riding away from Olossi with packhorses and gear. By the Herald! What were the last words she'd said to him? 'Had I known you were so full of yourself, I'd have known I need only wait until you fill up with the poison of self-love and strangle on it.'
Desperate, he found the teapot and poured cold ginger tea into his empty wine cup. The powerful flavor — it had been steeping all day — made his eyes sting.
She'd done her part in saving Olossi from the army that had marched out of the north and east. She'd earned the reward she'd asked for: to leave Olo'osson with her brother before the battle was fought. But it seemed she wasn't a free woman after all. It seemed she still had obligations here.
'What's it to do with you?' mused Askar. 'That I don't know, Marshal. The Hieros wants to talk to you particularly. She's not so willing to bring the council of Olossi into the matter, maybe due to this outlander, Captain Anji, who stands so high among them now. Anyway, our eagles can search quickly for the woman she's wanting back.'
'The Hieros wants me to find her.' The taste of ginger still buzzed on Joss's lips.
'There are reeves here who could recognize her,' said Askar. 'No need for you to go out on patrol.'
'I'll go to the temple, and see what the Hieros wants. There's the pursuit of the northerners to keep an eye on, and this matter of refugees. Knowing that the marshal of Argent Hall is himself out in the field overseeing the efforts may help the locals feel something is truly being done for their security. You fawkners and stewards have things well in hand here. I can't do much more with my office until a clerk is released by the temple of Sapanasu.' He drained the tea and set down the cup.
Volias stared at him, eyes wrinkled with puzzlement, and it was clear the Snake could not figure out where to prod. It all made too much cursed sense. Joss grinned. Rising, he grabbed a knife, his baton, and after a moment's consideration a pair of loose jesses. Siras came into the room with a full bottle of warmed wine, the smell enough to make you sigh with pleasure.
'Siras, can you see that a light travel pack is made up for me? I'll be out for some days. Volias, too, for that matter.'
The young man looked startled. 'Yes, Marshal. I'll tell the factors at once.'
Joss walked out to the porch, Volias trailing at his heels while Askar remained inside to pour himself a cup. The sun was out, bright with the morning, but the headache that had been trembling above Joss's eyebrows was receding as he walked into the marshal's garden and looked for flowers to present to Verena as a thanking gift. An eagle skimmed low, shadow shuddering along the ground. He bent his head back, shading his eyes to see at least twenty eagles gliding high above: reeveless eagles come to choose a new reeve for themselves. And there were more out there.
Two weeks ago Argent Hall had been ruled by a marshal whose very breath 'was like the taint of corruption', as it said in the tale; whose presence had driven reeves out of Argent Hall and halted the return of eagles seeking new reeves. Two weeks ago the town of Olossi had been besieged by an unstoppable army of criminals, bandits, and despicable outlaws who wore cheap tin medallions stamped with a sigil they called the Star of Life.
Now that army was on the run, with a troop of excellent soldiers and their doughty allies in pursuit, and Argent Hall was free of the corrupt marshal and reeves who had tried to poison it. Joss had been perfectly content to remain a simple reeve, as content as he could ever be with the demons of grief and reckless anger that had chased at his heels for half of his life. He hadn't wanted to be named marshal of Argent Hall, but sometimes you didn't get what you wanted.
He thought of the glorious Zubaidit, whom he had met briefly in the course of these troubles. Not that she had necessarily returned his interest. It was difficult to tell with a woman like that, although he was certain she would not be pleased to hear that the Hieros, and the temple, had reclaimed her life and her freedom.
She had walked north with her brother straight toward the advancing army. He did not know if she had even survived.
PART THREE
Debts
Fourteen Days Earlier
9
'Are you sure it's safe to light the lamp?' Keshad asked his sister.
'That's the third time you've asked. If I didn't think so, I wouldn't have lit it.'
Keshad stood beside a stone pillar, the only one left standing atop Candra Hill. In ancient days, according to the tale, the beacon fire had roared in times of trouble, but all that remained of the old tower complex was fallen walls and the bases of seven other pillars. From the treeless height, he stared over the town of Candra Crossing. The main district massed in the center; homes, shops, gardens, temples, fields, and refuse pits stretched east and west along West Track until woodland took over. The River Hayi widened here to make a good ferry crossing in the rainy season and a passable if dangerous ford in the dry season.
He had already seen everything he needed to know, but he could not stop looking because the sight so unnerved him: the town was deserted. Emptied. Swept clean.
'I know the main force of the army passed us already, but what if there are outriders coming up behind? Sweeping for stragglers? Looking for more villages and hamlets to burn? Women to rape? Children to bind into slavery? Hands to hack off?'
'Kesh! Get hold of yourself!'
He sucked in a breath and let it out, shaking.
'There's no one here,' she went on. 'The townsfolk have fled. The army is marching on Olossi. We're safe enough tonight to light a fire. Do you trust my judgment, or not?'
He shuddered as he turned away from the view. Someone could easily creep up the hill's steep slope under cover of night. Maybe it was best to get killed from behind, not knowing death was stalking you. That way it would come as a surprise. No fear and no anticipation meant no pain, surely. But it was already too late. As he looked
