Read Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) Online
Authors: Angela Holder
Elkan swallowed. “I cannot violate the Mother’s Law.”
The Matriarch’s voice was soft and persuasive. “I understand. I won’t ask it of you again. Only to continue the same things you’ve done so far. Help me conceive a child; speed its growth. I know those things don’t break your Law. Think of your new Hall and all the people who’ll seek healing there for years to come. Would you take the Mother’s power away from them? Think of Kevessa and Borlen. Would you condemn them to exile from their homeland? And all the wizards the Mother might choose in the future, in Ramunna, and Marvanna, and Giroda. Will you end that future before it begins? When you could so easily, without breaking any of your Laws, have everything you desire?”
Sweat gleamed on Elkan’s forehead in the firelight. “Your majesty, I have to decline—”
Josiah couldn’t keep silent, the solution was so obvious. “Just don’t tell her the baby’s sex next time,” he blurted. “I mean, there’s no other way she can find out, is there? If a wizard doesn’t look?”
Elkan opened his mouth, but the Matriarch cut him off. “The boy’s wise. Of course there’s no other way for me to know, not with any degree of certainty. And I would never end a pregnancy that had any chance of being a girl.”
Elkan didn’t exhibit the relief Josiah expected. His face remained drawn. “That would address the immediate problem, but the larger issue remains. You destroy lives as it suits you. You kill without hesitation or remorse. It extends far beyond this one child. Do you think I haven’t heard reports of what goes on in your dungeons, what fate awaits those who oppose you too openly, what atrocities you’ve committed against the Faithful and others? How can I claim to serve the Mother if I ally myself with someone who does those things?”
“You already have,” the Matriarch said softly. “None of that was a secret when you first agreed to help me. You considered food for your starving people worth the price. Those shipments are beyond my recall now. But isn’t the opportunity to spread the Mother’s power throughout Ravanetha worth even more? I’m only as ruthless as I must be to protect my country. Ramunna is my birthright and my sacred responsibility. I’ll do whatever I must to keep her strong and safe. You know that’s true, don’t you?”
Elkan’s eyes flicked away from hers for an instant. “Yes.”
“Bearing a daughter and heir is one thing I must accomplish to fulfill my responsibility. But I’ve come to see that fostering the growth of the Wizards’ Guild is another. I’m not blind to the good you’ve done. Ramunna will be far better off if you succeed in your mission than if you don’t.” She extended a hand to him. “We share so many of the same goals. Let us continue to pursue them together. If I promise to carry any future pregnancies you help me achieve to term, will you agree to keep treating me? I’ll restore the payments I lowered yesterday. In fact, I’ll double them.” She smiled winningly.
Silently Josiah urged Elkan to accept. Surely the Mother wouldn’t object. She wanted to give her power to all her children. Now that the Matriarch understood the Law better, she wouldn’t ask them to break it again. Everything could continue as it had been.
Slowly, grudgingly, Elkan put out his hand and grasped hers. “You’ll abide by the Law from now on? Not ask us to break it, and not circumvent it the way you did this time?”
“Of course.” The Matriarch’s expression was open and guileless. Josiah didn’t believe she’d let the promise bind her for a minute, not if she decided she needed to break it, but he also thought she’d been sincere when she expressed her conviction that the wizards were good for Ramunna.
Apparently Elkan thought the same thing, for he sighed, closed his eyes briefly, and ran his free hand through his hair. “All right.” He waved at the bed and dropped his hand to Tobi’s head. “Lie down, and we’ll speed your body into the fertile part of your cycle.”
The Matriarch settled onto the bed with a satisfied expression. Elkan and Tobi went silently to work. Josiah leaned against Sar and waited for them to finish.
Yerenna moved to the Matriarch’s side. “With your permission, your majesty, I’ll leave now. Other women are awaiting my care. Summon me again if you have any need.”
The Matriarch waved her away. On her way to the door, Yerenna stopped at the table and picked up the covered bowl. “Would you like me to dispose of this for you?”
“Yes, please,” the Matriarch said. She signed heavily. “The same as all the others.”
Yerenna nodded subserviently and left the room.
Thirty-Six
N
irel dragged herself groggily awake, aware that the sun slanting through her window was at a midafternoon angle. She hadn’t meant to sleep so long. There were arrangements to be made. She couldn’t let her father’s body be buried in a Temple cemetery, with prayers to the Lady of Mercy chanted over it. She had to make sure he was interred with the proper Faithful rites. She owed him that much.
After she dressed, she peeped into Kabos’s bedroom. Someone had pulled the sheet over his head. That would do for now. Somehow she’d have to persuade Ozor to let Elder Davon send people to get the body and move it to the shrine for the ceremony. It didn’t matter anymore if Ozor found out the truth of their Faith. Kabos was beyond the villagers’ suspicion and hatred, and she’d be leaving as soon as her duty was completed.
She made an adequate midday meal from the food in the kitchen, then emerged from the house, wondering where to look for Ozor. At this time of day he might be anywhere—down at the ship, or off in the city looking for profitable trade goods, or up in the fields checking on the progress of the improvements Kabos was—
Nirel swallowed hard and shook her head. She’d check the tent first. Maybe one of the Girodans would know where he’d gone.
As she approached the tent, she heard Ozor’s unmistakeable bellow from within. She quailed at the fury in his voice. “
I
brought you here.
I
gave you the chance to get rich selling your skills for what they’re worth.
I
gave you the recognition and acclaim you wanted. And you repay me by creating a new treatment for the burnt-and-blasted
wizards
? They don’t need your help. And they certainly won’t pay for it! Do you realize how much we could have charged for that stuff? Every parent of a child with the sugar sickness would have poured coins into our coffers for a single dose. And they tell me those brats are going to need your medicine every day for the rest of their lives. That money should have been mine! You stole it from me, you filthy thief!”
Nirel slipped through the curtain into the backstage area, staying quiet so she wouldn’t be noticed. Ozor and Nalini stood toe-to-toe in the center of the space. Tereid backed up the red-faced Ozor, while several of the Girodan healers clustered around Nalini.
Nalini gave Ozor a slow look up and down, curling her lip as if what she saw disgusted her. “Our bargain never gave you exclusive right to my services. If I want to help the wizards on my own time and for my own reasons, you have no grounds to forbid me nor any claim to the work I do for them. Take back your false accusation or I’ll terminate our contract right now.”
Ozor’s eyes blazed. He took a deliberate step closer, drawing himself up to match Nalini’s slightly greater height and putting his face close to hers. “Thief.”
Nalini looked down her nose at him. “Zamli, pack my belongings. I’m moving to the Mother’s Hall.”
“You can’t do that! We have a contract! The Matriarch will—”
“The Matriarch will read the document we both signed, which clearly states that either party can walk away at any time.”
Ozor sputtered for a moment, then rallied. “Are you so sure that’s what it says?”
“It’s what my copy, which I had prepared and certified by a Girodan notary, says.” Nalini smirked at him. “Did you think I was stupid enough to leave the only copy in your hands?”
Ozor face darkened to an even deeper shade of red. Nirel feared he might explode into violence. She cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me, sir?”
Ozor whirled to face her. “What?” he barked.
Nirel shifted her gaze away and swiped at nonexistent tears. She made her voice weak and tremulous. “Please, my father… I need…”
Tesi immediately came and put an arm around her shoulders. “Has no one helped her with the body?”
Ozor gestured curtly. “I’ll send a few of the men. They can bury him up by that field he loved so much.”
“No, sir.” Nirel took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and firmed her voice. “I must go to Elder Davon and arrange for him to be buried according to the customs of our Faith.”
Ozor’s eyes narrowed. “So you admit you’re one of those heretics? And Kabos was, too?”
“Yes, sir.” She refused to look away, even when his scowl turned ugly.
He took a threatening step toward her. “Your father’s stupid refusal to let the wizards heal him cost me the only one of my people who knew a blasted thing about farming. If I’d learned what he was doing soon enough, I’d have ordered him to submit to their power. And now you want to turn him over to the people whose idiotic rules killed him?”
“It’s what he would have wanted, sir.” Nirel fought not to let her eyes drop away from his menacing glower.
He stared at her for at least a minute before cursing and slashing a hand through the air. “Fine. Save us the work of putting him in the ground. I’ll let two men into the village long enough to get him into a cart and out of here. Before sunset. If he’s still stinking up the place in the morning I’ll dump him in the ocean for the fish to eat.”
He jerked back to Nalini. “Get out of here. I’d better see the back of you leaving my village in a quarter of an hour or I’ll drag you out by your hair.” He turned contemptuously on his heel and strode toward the door. He paused as he passed Nirel, looking at her as if she were some misshapen creature the nets had dragged up from the depths. “You too, girl. The oath of a Mother-hating heathen means nothing. You’re no longer part of my company.”
Nirel had expected nothing different. It was a good thing Ozor had dismissed her oath to him, because she was leaving no matter what, and he could be vicious to those he considered oathbreakers. But the cold disgust in his eyes shook her. This was what she would face for the rest of her life, now that her Faith was known.
Tesi squeezed her shoulders and released her as Ozor strode from the tent, Tereid on his heels. “Would you like me to help you pack your belongings?”
“Would you?” As hard as she tried not to care, Nirel was trembling from the confrontation. “Please.”
Tesi accompanied her home and helped tuck the few things Nirel wanted to keep in a bag. She’d have no further use for her fancy ball gown or her Tevenaran-style breeches, but she carefully packed the simple dresses she’d had made to Faithful standards of modesty. She nestled her book of the Ordinances between them. A few kitchen implements might prove useful, some linens just in case, and she’d better take her toiletries, but there was little else she considered worth the effort to carry all the way into the city. Gan and the others could salvage what remained after she was gone.
As she shouldered the bag and headed out, Tesi fell in beside her. The Girodan woman gave her a sidelong look. Hesitantly she said, “Nirel? Did I understand correctly? Your beliefs are different than those of Ozor and the others?”
She laughed bitterly. “I doubt Ozor believes in anything beyond himself. But yes, I don’t worship the Mother.” She turned hopeful eyes to Tesi. “Do you know about the Faithful? Are there any in Giroda?”
“No, I am sorry. But—” Tesi’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I do not worship the one they call the Mother, either. My family has long followed the way of the Great Sage. He taught that holiness comes from within, not from any deity. There are only a few of us scattered through the mountains of Giroda. We are subject to restrictive laws, much as the Dualists are here. So I know something of what you must face.”
Tears dampened Nirel’s eyes, that had been dry since long before her father’s death. The Ordinances condemned all who failed to acknowledge the supremacy of the Lord of Justice; in that Tesi was no different from the followers of the Lady. But her compassion was so unexpectedly welcome Nirel didn’t care.
She swallowed hard. “Thank you. For trusting me, and for understanding. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
“Thank you.” Tesi didn’t speak further, but Nirel took great comfort from her presence.
When they reached the tent, Tesi hugged Nirel and murmured farewell. Nirel resettled her bag on her shoulder and set off toward the city.
She’d gone only a few hundred feet when she heard footsteps approaching and Nalini fell in beside her. “We should walk together. Safer that way.”
Nirel shrugged. “This road’s safe enough, at least by day. The Matriarch’s soldiers patrol it. But you can walk with me if you want.” She looked away. “If you don’t mind associating with a Dualist heretic.”
Nalini humphed. “It’s all the same to me.” She was silent for a few strides, then said, “You’re going to see Elder What’s-his-name?”
“Davon.”
“Yes, him. Tell him we’ve got a treatment for the sugar sickness. The wizards helped me figure it out, and they’re distributing it, but they don’t have anything to do with making it, and we’ve built a device that puts it into people’s blood without using their power. So he can tell the rest of you Dualists there’s no reason for them not to use it if they need it.”
For the first time in days Nirel felt unreserved pleasure at something. “He’ll be delighted to hear that.”
“It looks like I’m going to be working with the wizards from now on, but I’ll come out to the Quarter if someone needs me, for surgery or medicine or this new insulin. Send me a message at the Mother’s Hall.” She flashed Nirel a mocking grin. “I still expect to be paid. I need some source of income. Just because I’m joining the wizards doesn’t mean I’m adopting their ridiculous altruism.”
“Of course. That won’t be a problem.” It was too bad the Faithful would lose access to Nalini’s skills when they departed for Tevenar. Maybe they could persuade her to come with them if they promised her enough money.