Asunder (43 page)

            The Lord Seeker angrily waved at several of the templars off to the side, but the Divine shook her head. He stared at her in disbelief, but she ignored him. "I understand your frustration," she said to Adrian, "but we are placed in a difficult position."

            "One that is about to be made even more difficult, Most Holy," the Lord Seeker said. He got down on one knee before the throne, a show of earnest supplication Rhys found surprising. So did Ser Evangeline and the red- haired woman on either side of the throne. Both stared at the man in surprise. "We cannot indulge this research any further," he said. "By the elf's own words, it leads nowhere. We must put our efforts toward keeping order before word of this spreads."

            More surprising still, the Divine appeared to consider his words. She frowned thoughtfully, staring off into the distance as she weighed the options. Rhys almost expected Adrian to object, but then he saw her shaking her head in dejection. She was giving up.

            "No!" he cried out. The words were almost ripped from him before he realized what he was saying. They sounded too loud in the massive audience chamber, reverberating until all eyes were turned toward him.

           
There you go again,
he scolded himself. When
will you learn, exactly?

            Steeling his nerves, Rhys approached the dais, kneeling down in the same manner the Lord Seeker had before him. "Forgive me, Most Holy, but I have to speak."

            The corner of the Divine's mouth twitched in amusement. "Why not? It seems as if none of us are standing on ceremony today. Who might you be?"

            "Enchanter Rhys, Most Holy."

            She smiled. "Ah! The son, is it? I can see the resemblance."

            He was taken aback by that, a combination of Wynne clearly having told the Divine about their relationship and the woman even remembering. Plus, he didn't look like Wynne . . . did he? In the space of his hesitation, however, the Lord Seeker interrupted. "Do not listen to this man. He is under suspicion of murder, and anything he says will undoubtedly be an effort to save his own skin."

            The Divine chuckled, lowering her hands and easing back in the throne. "We all have our biases, Lambert. Seeing as you allowed this man to accompany the mission, I'm willing to listen to what he has to say." She nodded to Rhys. "Please continue."

            "I believe setting aside this man's research would be a mistake," he said. "So much of what we know of the Rite of Tranquility, indeed of magic itself, is based on tradition and hearsay. What he has learned may not be an alternate solution to the Rite, but that does not mean one
cannot
be found."

            "And how do you know this?" the Lord Seeker demanded.

            "I have been speaking with Pharamond since we left Adamant. Considering my own research deals with spirits, I've found what he has to say quite illuminating."

            The Lord Seeker stared, stunned. He spared a withering glance at Evangeline, who kept her own expression stony and did not look away, and then turned to face the Divine. "Do you see? Already it spreads. Next he'll be trying to convince us that demons are required to further this agenda!"

            "Not demons," Rhys insisted. "Spirits!" At the incredulous look from both the Lord Seeker and the Divine, he spoke more emphatically. "Not everything about spirits is evil. We use spirits to heal, and the Chantry accepts this because it's useful. This is no different."

            "Of course it's different!" the Lord Seeker boomed. "We have an entire keep of innocents horribly slaughtered to show us how different it is!"

            "And would you make their deaths meaningless?"

            "Not I!" he said. "Their deaths were made meaningless by the selfish act of a man who used them to reverse something that should never have been reversed! It is blasphemy!"

            Rhys laughed bitterly. "Blasphemy? This door is opened. You can try to slam it shut, or you can see what's on the other side! It might just be a way to avoid the rebellion even you must know is coming!"

            The Lord Seeker drew his sword. The metallic sound it made as it left its scabbard rang throughout the room, and the reaction was instantaneous. At least half of the templars drew their blades, and Rhys didn't get the impression they intended to stop him; rather the opposite. Rhys fell back, alarmed, and immediately channeled mana. Adrian rushed to his side, summoning a wreath of fire to her hands.

            "Enough!" the Divine cried. "There will be no bloodshed!"

            Evangeline ran toward the Lord Seeker, weapon already in hand, but the red- haired priest got there first. She grabbed his sword hand, and when he wheeled about to force her off she glared at him with steely eyes. "Don't be a fool," she warned, her voice low and deadly.

            He scowled, though he did lower his blade. Pulling his hand from hers, he turned to face Rhys. "I see no rebellion coming," he seethed. "I see mages who take every inch they're allowed and demand ten more, forgetting the very reasons the Circle exists. And what I hear are threats, coming from a Libertarian who would be the very first corrupted if power were ever placed in his hands."

            Rhys allowed his power to fade, but it was difficult. The Lord Seeker was so full of contempt and self- righteousness it was sickening, and Rhys wanted nothing more than to wipe that sneer off his face . . . even though it would surely mean his own death.

            "I'm not making threats," he said. "I'm telling you there are alternatives, but you're too blind to see them. If you keep trying to strangle the mages, you'll lose us. That I promise you."

            The Lord Seeker ignored him, instead turning to the Divine. "Do you see what we contend with? Resistance at every turn. End this, here and now, before it spreads beyond these walls."

            "It's too late," a voice cried out. It was Wynne. She reassuringly patted the anxious Pharamond's hand and then left him to approach the dais. "I'm sorry, Most Holy, but the Circle of Magi already knows about Pharamond."

            "What do you mean?" the Lord Seeker demanded.

            She smiled sweetly at him. "The sending that went to the White Spire and the Grand Cathedral was also sent to every other Circle in Thedas. The first enchanters are already on their way to Val Royeaux as we speak."

            Adrian gasped, and Rhys was similarly stunned. Had that been Wynne's plan all along, then? Had the golem been so incredibly caustic just so Evangeline would be happy to see it leave? He couldn't help but feel a little chagrined at the realization.

            The Lord Seeker wheeled on the Divine. "Execute them," he growled. "Execute them all. This flies in the face of everything the Chantry stands for, a direct challenge to our authority!"

            The Divine frowned and regarded Wynne with a speculative look, tapping her fingers on the arm of the Sunburst Throne. Wynne bowed, and spoke in a carefully guarded tone. "This is a chance for you to work with the Circle, to greet Pharamond's findings as an opportunity rather than as a threat."

            "You put us in a difficult position," the Divine said. Rhys could tell she was displeased, perhaps even backed into a corner. She exchanged a dire look with the Lord Seeker, one that made Rhys nervous. Might she refuse, after all this? Had Wynne alienated a woman who had seemingly been their ally?

            "None more difficult than we mages are in, Your Perfection," Wynne answered.

            The Divine's fingers thrummed on the throne for several more moments before she nodded curtly. "So be it." Before the Lord Seeker could object, she held up a hand. "Expedite the arrangements, Lambert. They will hold conclave here at the White Spire, rather than in Cumberland. Set it to happen in one month's time. Let the mages debate a policy that both of us can live with."

            The Lord Seeker ground his teeth, but it was easy to see he was just as caught as she. "Very well," he said curtly. "I believe it a fool's errand, but it appears we are left with no choice. The templars will allow this, but I have three conditions."

            "Name them."

            "One, that we restrict the size of the conclave. I do not wish to see the tower packed with every senior enchanter from here to Ferelden. Too much power in one place may give these mages foolish ideas."

            The Divine nodded. "I believe those in this chamber will be required at the conclave. Beyond that, I agree. First enchanters only."

            "Two, I wish these mages imprisoned. I do not want them stirring up trouble, not in the White Spire or anywhere else."

            "Confine them to quarters." She looked at Wynne. "I believe we can make an exception for you, Enchanter, in recognition of your past ser vice. You will remain in the White Spire until the conclave. Should Lord Seeker Lambert believe you are abusing this privilege, you will join the others."

            Wynne nodded. "I understand, Most Holy."

            "Lastly"—the Lord Seeker gestured at Pharamond—"I wish this man to undergo the Rite of Tranquility once again."

            There was silence as his words sank in, and then Pharamond let out a heart- wrenching wail of despair. The elf sank to his knees, staring at the Lord Seeker in utter horror. Tears welled in his eyes. "Please," he gasped. "Please do not do this, I beg you . . ."

            Wynne ran to the man's side, keeping him upright. She pleaded to the Divine, "For the love of the Maker, have mercy!"

            The Lord Seeker scowled. "The reasons he underwent the Rite are true today as they once were. Moreover, look at him. The man can barely control himself. How will he fare against a demon? What ever knowledge he possesses will remain."

            Pharamond collapsed to the ground. The desperate keening sound he made was like an animal caught in a trap, and it tugged at Rhys's heart. "You can't do this!" he shouted. "After all he's been through, it's inhumane!"

            "Perhaps you'd like to join him," the Lord Seeker said icily.

            The Divine shook her head. "Enough, Lambert. The elf shall become Tranquil once again. It is done." With that, she rose from the throne. Every templar in the chamber immediately stood at attention. Before she left the dais, however, she paused and regarded Wynne with a warning look. "Let us hope you are correct, Enchanter, and this conclave allows the Circle and the Chantry to build a new accord. If not, may the Maker have mercy on you all."

            The red- haired attendant took the Divine by the hand and led her away. All was silent as the two of them left the dais, save for the sound of Pharamond's pitiful sobbing. It echoed throughout the holy chamber, and Rhys found himself standing there, stunned.

            What had just happened? There was to be a conclave . . . and he was to attend? It seemed he had another reprieve, though the way the Lord Seeker glared at him he imagined it wouldn't last much beyond that.

            He was far luckier than poor Pharamond. Rhys walked toward the man, Adrian beside him, but neither could offer any more comfort than Wynne could. The old woman cradled him like a child beneath the Eternal Brazier as he howled in grief.

            What ever he had done in the keep, what ever mistakes he had made, he was paying for it now. If there was anything worse than being stripped of all your emotion and made to live as a hollow shadow of what you once were . . . it was knowing exactly what it was like, and having it about to happen to you again.

            Chapter 17

           
Three weeks.

            Evangeline was Knight- Captain in name only, now. Despite pronouncements from the Divine, that did not make the Lord Seeker appreciate her presence any more. In fact, it made things worse. She had been relegated to tasks no Knight- Captain before her ever had the plea sure of doing: guard duty in the dungeons, for one. Alone.

            Arnaud showed up on occasion to gloat. The man carried around his insufferable smile like a victory flag, taunting her with the knowledge that as soon as the first enchanters' conclave was done, so was her position within the White Spire. The Divine's favor only went so far. He was probably right. That didn't make her want to wipe that smile off his face any less. It might even be worth it, despite the consequences.

            Not all the other templars felt as Arnaud did, of course. Some of them came to the dungeons late at night, offering their sympathies and advice. Apologize, they said. T row yourself at the Lord Seeker's mercy, lest you lose what ever standing you've earned in the order forever. This was ignoring the fact that Lord Seeker Lambert didn't
have
any mercy. That, and she no longer cared.

            Well . . . that was a lie. She did care. She cared so much the helpless rage smoldered inside her like a burning coal. This wasn't the Templar Order she joined. That order was filled with protectors, people doing their best with an awful situation. People who believed the mages needed help just as much as the innocents outside the tower, and had a Maker- given duty to be compassionate with the power they wielded.