03 - The Eternal Rose (51 page)

She glanced over her troop as she mounted. Half the escort was gone, sent back to the embassy with the freed slaves. And they'd brought a smaller than usual number with them, to leave more guarding the children. But her magic was complete. Strong.

“Chosen.” The high prelate called Kallista's attention. “Not all the clerics nor all the nathains agreed with my decision to leave the temple. There is a split. The Samerics have stirred up the people. Be careful."

“You as well.” Kallista bowed from atop her horse.

“Where
are
we going?” Torchay asked again as he fell in beside her.

“There.” She pointed at the Seat.

Torchay sighed. “I was afraid of that."

Chapter Thirty

As they traversed the short distance to the government building, Kallista reinforced the shielding around her people, sharing as much as she could with the searching nathains. They could be exposed to the demons, but her godmarked were the ones going into battle with them.

She left the soldiers in the street with the horses and instructions to call for help if a riot started. And to come at once if Kallista called. Surrounded by her godmarked iliasti, she strode up the steps and into the en-Kameral chamber.

Many of the seats in the multi-tiered room were empty. The Kameri present gathered in small groups to talk. Two members of the executive council stood near the dais, conferring with some of their colleagues. The other councilors were nowhere to be seen. Everyone looked up in surprise when Kallista entered.

“Reinine—” The Head of Tathiwa Line and the elder of the two councilors present took a hesitant step forward. “Did we have an appointment?"

“We did not.” Kallista bowed a fraction lower than she would have otherwise, in apology. “But I thought to inquire about your response to my request of Thirdday past."

"Request?"
One of the Kameri talking with the councilors broke in before Kallista could continue. “That was no request. It was an ultimatum. An insult."

“To my ultimatum, then.” Kallista's hand moved instinctively toward her sword hilt. She stopped herself before it arrived. No use stirring up trouble sooner than needful. “You might like to know that Habadra Chani has been arrested for perversion of justice for poisoning the weapons her champions used in the recent trial. And—"

“Habadra would never submit to arrest,” the Tathiwa exclaimed.

“So you agree she is capable of the crime? She did not submit. But she is nonetheless in custody of your justiciars.” Kallista scowled. She'd expected demon attacks on her shielding the instant they entered the building—or at least when they entered this chamber. Why didn't it attack? Was it even here?

She called magic, shaped it for hunting and sent it plunging into the nearest Head of Line. The woman stiffened, groaned, but didn't react further—perhaps because she was less stained by demon touch than many. Kallista instructed the magic to keep going, to search every Daryathi in the room. Then she turned her attention back to the councillors.

“...this is a deliberative body. We do not act foolishly or in haste,” the Tathiwa was saying. “We—"

“You might be interested to know,” Kallista said. “We have already freed the slaves at Habadra House. I also spoke to your High Prelate in the street just now. Your own naitani—your nathains will no longer cloister themselves in the temple. All your own people who manifest magic will be free to use it outside the temple for the benefit of everyone."

“Blasphemy!” someone cried from a tier near the top.

“Is it blasphemy when your own high prelate has spoken? You shut your own nathains away to ‘protect’ their magic, but have no trouble enslaving mine so you can still use magic. You cannot have it both ways.” The hunter magic had scoured through at least half the Kameri and their bodyguard champions without finding more than stain and it worried Kallista.

“You have no more need of slaves.” Kallista's voice filled the chamber. “I want my people back.
I will have them back
."

If the demon wasn't here, where was it, and more, what was it doing? Kallista spoke quietly over her shoulder to Torchay. “Someone should check on the troop, make sure things are still quiet outside."

He nodded and slipped away. She hadn't meant for him to go himself, but then with only her godmarked present—the lawyer had returned with the freed slaves—he was probably the best choice.

“You do not rule here!” shouted the Head of Line who'd protested first. “We will not let you come in and destroy our society or the traditions handed down to us by our mothers."

“Your traditions have the taint of demons, twisted from older, better ways. Do you truly wish to live by
demon
-birthed ways? Under
demon
law?” Kallista made a supreme effort and put a name to the woman in yellow-green with tall-horned cattle marching round her gold pectoral collar. She was the Nabili, one of the most conservative of the Kameri who'd visited the embassy. She was beginning to annoy Kallista mightily.

“This is Daryath,” the Nabili sputtered. “
Our
home.
We
rule here. We do not take orders from insignificant amateurs with delusions of godhood."

"You dare?"
Kallista lost her grip on her temper and sent the hunter magic slamming back into the Nabili.

This time, the woman screamed—and the magic sputtered and died.

Kallista snatched for more, but it slipped through her fingers, refusing to answer her call. What was going on? The magic had never failed her before. Not like this.

“What are you doing to us?” The Tathiwa's voice held horror. She supported the gasping Nabili.

“Searching for demons.” Kallista let her hand rest on her sword. “Your whole misbegotten land is riddled with the stink of demons. Since the time of the battle in the Empty Lands, a demon has hidden here and ruled over this society you are so proud of. I will rid you of them—both demons and traditions."

“Kallista—” Torchay bent close to speak in her ear. “Things are tense outside. Crowds gathering, throwing curses. Next will be rocks. Best we leave, if you've no’ found the demon."

Kallista sent her gaze around the chamber, searching the Kameri and their champions with her eyes as she'd searched them with the magic. “One way or the other,” she said. “I will have my people back. Better for you if you give them up willingly."

She spun on her heel and stalked away, hoping desperately that no one saw her shaky panic. What had happened to the magic? She reached for it, and hesitated, afraid to try calling for fear it wouldn't answer this time either.

“Where's Padrey?” Torchay took a long stride to catch up with Kallista on the high porch.

“Right th—” She turned to point, but their new ilias wasn't just behind her, where he'd been all morning. She lurched toward the door, to go back inside and look.

Torchay stopped her. “He's no’ inside. No’ in the meeting room.” He looked at the others who'd gathered round at the top of the steps. “Did anyone see him go inside with us?"

“No.” Aisse frowned. “How can he not be with us?"

“The link's formed.” Kallista bit her lip. “Already."

“Then—where is he?” Viyelle asked. “Can't you sense him through the link?"

Kallista was afraid to look with her magic falling apart like this. Were the links still there? What was going on?

"Kallista."
Obed's voice held the same urgency she felt. “Is he out in that?” He pointed.

The streets seethed with activity, their Adaran troop a lone pool of relative stillness. The soldiers stood in a half-circle facing out, the horses behind them, held by a few of the men. They held their carbine pistols pointing up at the sky, a visible threat against the rising hostility of the people in the street being harangued by shaved-bald Samerics.

Fighting back her fears, Kallista
reached
, not for magic but for her links. If the links were there, maybe the magic would be too. Carefully, as if reaching for a skittish animal, Kallista slipped her
fingers
around the links. Relief flooded her as she embraced them, counted them. All eight were here, humming with life. And magic. Would it answer her call?

She would try later. For now—quickly she separated out the link that bound her to Padrey. “There.” She pointed at the building they'd just left.

“Inside?” Viyelle shook her head. “But didn't Torchay say—"

“Not inside. Past the building. Somewhere on the other side. We'll have to go round.” Kallista shooed them ahead of her down the steps. “Hurry."

“Where's he going, for the One's sake?” Joh asked. “What's he doing?"

“I don't know.” Once more, Kallista swung onto her horse. “But whatever it is, he thinks it's important."

“If it's so important, why didn't he tell anyone?” Leyja complained. “Why didn't he ask for help?"

“I don't know.” Kallista couldn't keep the temper out of her voice.
Why hadn't he?
How dare he risk himself alone on these streets? Yes, he'd done it a dozen, a thousand times before. He'd
lived
on the streets, his life forfeit if he was recognized. But he hadn't been marked then. He hadn't been married. He hadn't been so desperately needed.

“He's only been married to us for a day,” Fox said. “He was alone for years before that. It's hard to learn new ways."

“He needs to learn faster.” Kallista wanted to ride faster, but the soldiers had to force a way through the crowds, using the strength of their horses and the threat of their carbines.

“But he wasn't alone, not completely,” Aisse said. “He did have his sedil. And her children."

“He was alone protecting them,” Fox said. “As much as an escaped slave and a thief could."

“Maybe that's where he went,” Joh suggested. “To Penthili House to get her. He'd know it—he escaped from there, didn't he?"

“I don't know,” Kallista said yet again. She was getting tired of having to say it. “But if he's gone off on some half-cocked rescue mission without telling us, I'm going to beat him. Or something."

Ahead, Kallista could see the crowd thin out. The Samerics apparently couldn't stir up tempers quickly enough to keep pace, even at the Adaran's forced slow pace.
"Hurry."

* * * *

Padrey slipped through the alley behind Penthili House, feeling conspicuous in his sharp-looking rust red tunic and black trousers. He didn't blend into the sand-colored wall any more. He felt more than a twinge of guilt for coming away like this, but close as Penthili House was to the Seat, he could be in and out again with Nanda and her kids before his new iliasti noticed he was gone.

True, his sedil would be freed when all the slaves were freed, but he couldn't wait any longer. He'd waited too long already—since his escape—and the Penthili was just an older version of the new Head of Habadra. She would destroy a thing rather than let someone else have it. If word got out that Kallista had freed Habadra's slaves—No, Padrey couldn't wait.

He found the place where the plaster over the stone wall had been broken and poorly repaired, and the shallow handholds improved upon by a certain thief. Padrey checked to be sure the alley was empty, and swarmed up and over the wall, dropping into the Penthili pigsty to the squeal of disturbed piglets.
Damn
. Maybe the boots weren't quite totally ruined. They should have let him wear the old ones.

Escaping the pen just ahead of angry mama pig, Padrey scraped off the worst of the muck and started for the laundry where his sedil worked in the mending room. There, she could keep her oh-so-valuable children away from the dangers of laundry tubs and kitchen fires.

In his new clothes with his face fresh-shaved, he couldn't duck his head and play “slave on an errand” as he always had before, the few times he'd dared to come visit. He put on an arrogant swagger to walk as if he owned the place. He was—oh Goddess, he was Padrey
Reinas
. He might not own
this
place, but—He would think about that later. After he got Nanda out.

He strode down the corridor to the mending room, ignoring the few people he passed. They were beneath the notice of—whoever he was supposed to be. Bold as a new-marked dedicat, he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

Startled, his sedil cried out, spread her arms, and her flock of children scurried to huddle under them.

“Saints, Nanda.” Padrey tried to count. “You're only twenty-five. How'd you get so many kids?"

“Padrey!” She sprang from her chair to hug him. She'd gone plump and soft, her apron mounding over yet another pregnancy. At least the bastards let their slaves wear clothes when they were pregnant. Otherwise, they wore only the short, white kilts.

“They're not all mine,” Nanda said when she let him go. “I watch the little ones, from when they're weaned till they're big enough to work. What are you doing here? It's too dangerous for you. You have to leave—but where did you get such fine clothes?"

“I got married.” Padrey felt the blush burn his cheeks and didn't know why. It wasn't like he had run out on his marriage. He wouldn't be here long. “I'll tell you everything later. I've come to fetch you.” He stopped her protest with a wave. “You and your brats. You know I wouldn't leave ‘em."

“Penna's not here—my oldest.” Nanda's eyes were wide with beginning panic. “She works in the house, weeding courtyards."

"Saints."
Padrey drew his hand down over his mouth, thinking. “All right. I'll get her. You get everything ready here. I'll be right back."

“Padrey—” Nanda's soft voice called him back. “I'm happy for you."

He frowned. What was she talking about?

“Your marriage?” Nanda gave him a shy smile. “I wanted you to know—in case? I'm happy you found someone."

“
Nine
someones, actually,” he muttered, then stabbed a finger at her. “There's no ‘in case.’ I am getting you out. Now, today. Be ready."

She blinked, then her smile widened and she nodded. “All right."

Padrey hadn't been much in the family sections of Penthili House, but he found the courtyards easily enough. He just followed the sound of water. Unfortunately, like all other Houses in Mestada, it had a multitude of courtyards scattered through the maze of the House. The first two were empty. The third held Penthili men gathering with friends for lunch. Padrey gave that one a wide berth. No slaves would be there unless they were serving, and Penna was too little for that.