Flight Into Darkness (63 page)

“They're ready for you now,” said one of the Guerriers impassively.

They hurried her along the winding passageways of the prison wing of the Forteresse until they reached one of the interrogation rooms. Inside, seated at a table, she saw three men. In the center, she recognized the lean features and incisive gaze of Haute Inquisitor Visant. Beside him sat Maistre Donatien, and at the end of the table, a secretary, surrounded by files and dossiers overspilling with papers.

“Celestine de Joyeuse,” said Visant. “Is that your name? Or should we use your true name: de Maunoir?”

“Please, can you tell me how her majesty is?” Celestine burst out.

“You place a spell on Queen Adèle, and then you have the audacity to ask how she's faring?”

“There was no spell. That's a vile lie Maistre Donatien made up to slander me.”

Donatien gave a small, offended grunt, but said nothing.

“So now you're accusing Maistre Donatien of being a liar? That's a very serious allegation.”

“I love the queen and I would gladly give my own life to protect her.” Celestine stared defiantly back at Visant. “If you check my record as a Guerrier and agent of the Commanderie, you'll see the proof. Jagu and I defended their majesties against the magi of Ondhessar.”

“I have indeed checked your record and it makes for disturbing reading. The Commanderie has been nursing a viper in its bosom. Well, Maistre de Lanvaux may have been lax enough to turn a blind eye to your misdemeanors, but he is no longer here to protect you from the Inquisition's justice.”

The door to the interrogation chamber opened and a Rosecoeur guard came in. “We've brought the other prisoner as you requested, Inquisitor.”

“Very good.” Visant nodded. “Make him stand there. Where the demoiselle can see her accomplice.”

And then, to Celestine's distress, she heard the clank of chains and recognized the prisoner that the guards had escorted.

“Jagu!” The cry was wrung from her. “Oh Jagu, what have they done to you?”

The sight alone of the bloodstained bandages was almost more than she could bear. And the awkward way in which he carried his hand, holding it close to himself as if he couldn't risk anyone even brushing against it, let her know how serious the wound was. But when he heard her voice and raised his head slowly, blinking as if the light was too bright, she saw him make an effort to control himself.

“Celestine,” he said in a voice that was twisted with pain. His face looked grey, haggard in the cold light. “Why did you come? You knew it was a trap.”

She wanted to run to him, but the Guerriers gripped her so firmly that she could not break free.

“What a touching scene,” said Visant dryly. “The two miscreants who betrayed the order, reunited to hear their sentences.”

“Our sentences?” Jagu's head whipped up. “When was there a trial?”

“There was no need for a trial,” said Maistre Donatien smoothly. “As Grand Maistre of the Commanderie, I have it in my power to deal with such cases as I see fit. As you were discovered
in flagrante
and neither one of you has denied the fact, we need no further proof that you have both broken your vow of celibacy.” He opened an ancient bound volume and read aloud from a yellowed page of vellum. “In the rules of our order, as set down by Saint Argantel himself, it says, ‘Any Guerrier who breaks his vow must be cast out of the order so that his sin does not bring dishonor on his fellow knights.’”

Celestine heard Donatien pronounce the words as if from very far away; all her attention was centered on Jagu, knowing how much Donatien's bluntness would shame him. But Jagu stood silent, un-moving, accepting.
Surely that can't be all?
she wondered as Donatien closed Saint Argantel's Rules.

“By the power vested in me as Grand Maistre of the Order of Saint Sergius,” Donatien announced, “Celestine de Maunoir, Jagu de Rustéphan, I hereby strip you both of your rank of lieutenant. And because you have both brought shame on the order by using the Forbidden Arts, I call upon the Haute Inquisitor to pronounce sentence upon you.”

Visant stared first at Jagu and then at Celestine. “The penalty for using the Forbidden Arts is death. Death by fire to cleanse and purge any traces of evil that may remain in your bodies. And may your
deaths be a warning to anyone foolish enough to contemplate using alchymy or sorcery. The executions will take place tomorrow in the Place du Trahoir.”

“Wait!” Celestine cried out. “Jagu isn't a magus! He's never used the Forbidden Arts. Why does he have to die?”

“Never used the Forbidden Arts?” Visant turned to her, a triumphant smile on his lips. “Then how do you explain the magus's mark on his left wrist?”

“A magus marked him; it's a sign of control.” She was shocked that Visant should use the mark against Jagu in such a devious way.

“So for all these years, a magus's puppet has been a trusted officer in the Commanderie? Who knows what mischief this man has already been compelled to do by his master?”

“It's no use, Celestine.” At last Jagu spoke, and the sad, loving look that he gave her made her heart ache. “They'll just twist anything we say to their advantage.”

“But how can we be sentenced to death without a proper trial?” Celestine was not ready to concede without a fight. Why, at the very moment she needed her help the most, was the Faie silent?

The patter of spring rain on the windowpane was the first thing that Adèle became aware of as she drifted awake. A soft, grey-hued spring light infused her bedchamber, and for a while she lay half between sleep and waking, as if floating high above the palace. And then she heard a sigh and realized that she was not alone. Ilsevir was sitting by the fireside, reading through a bundle of papers.

“What… time is it?” she asked sleepily.

“You're awake!” Ilsevir dropped the papers and hurried over to her bedside. “How are you feeling?” he asked anxiously.

“A little light-headed. What happened? Did I oversleep?” Adèle's memory was still fogged with sleep.

“You fainted. I was worried,” said Ilsevir, almost accusingly.

“I fainted? How feeble of me; I didn't intend to cause you any concern.…” And then it all came back to her: Celestine, Donatien, the Guerriers, her brother's secret letter…

“Where is Celestine?” she demanded.

“In the Forteresse, where else? She was the cause of your fainting fit; Maistre Donatien is certain of it.”

Adèle let out a cry of frustration. Ilsevir was so easily manipulated
by his ministers. “Maistre Donatien is mistaken. We have to get her out of there.” She tried to push herself up into a sitting position.

Ilsevir plumped up the pillows behind her. “But she's under the Inquisition's jurisdiction now. Visant has proof positive that she's been using the Forbidden Arts.”

Why was Ilsevir not listening to her? “I promised her that I would protect her.”

Ilsevir took her hand in his, gazing intently into her eyes. “Adèle, Doctor Vallot thinks that you may be pregnant again. After what happened before, he wants you to rest in bed and not to allow yourself to become excited or upset.”

“Being pregnant doesn't mean that I have to be treated like an invalid!” Adèle said indignantly. Yet she found herself wondering: Could Vallot be right?

“Your health is more important to me than anything else.” Ilsevir could say such sweet things and she loved him for it, but she wished that she didn't suspect him of keeping her confined so that she didn't interfere with the plans that he, nel Ghislain, and Donatien were hatching. If only there were someone in Plaisaunces whom she could trust to tell her what was really going on…

There came a tap at the bedchamber door and her maid appeared, bobbing a curtsy.

“Lady Aude has come to pay you a visit, majesty. Shall I tell her to come back tomorrow?”

“Aude?” Adèle sat up eagerly. “No, please bring her in. I can't wait to hear all about her adventures!”

“I'll leave you two girls to exchange gossip.” Ilsevir kissed her cheek and rose to leave, gathering up his papers. “Remember, don't overexcite yourself, Adèle.”

Aude appeared in the doorway, curtsying as the king departed.

“Aude!” Adèle held out her arms to her cousin and Aude hurried over to give her a hug. “Let me look at you!” She held her at arm's length. “How brown you are!” She pinched her cheek affectionately. “The Serindhan sun has brought out all your freckles.”

“It's very unfashionable to look so healthy, isn't it?” Aude said, giggling.

“You will set a new fashion all of your own.” Adèle felt her spirits lifting already, cheered by Aude's impish grin. “But what a miraculous escape.” She glanced around and beckoned Aude closer. “Celestine told me all about it. Before the Inquisition took her.”

Aude's hand flew to her mouth. “No!”

“She's in terrible danger, Aude. Is there anything your father can do?”

Aude thought for a moment. Then she said, “I don't know. But I'll see what I can do to persuade him. And I can be very persuasive when I want to.”

Alain Friard found Philippe Viaud outside, drilling the cadets in the rain in the shadow of the damaged Commanderie chapel. He beckoned him over into the shadow of the chapel doorway.

“What's wrong, Captain?” Viaud mopped the rain from his face with a handkerchief. “You could curdle milk with that sour expression.”

“I'm in the mood to curdle a great deal more than milk,” said Friard grimly. “Did you hear about Jagu and Celestine? Donatien has handed them over to Visant. And Visant has just condemned them to the stake.”

“That's going too far!” Viaud burst out.

“Are we going to let the Inquisition burn them?”

“Of course not.” Viaud glanced out at the rain and his drenched cadets. “Lads!” he yelled. “Change of orders. Meet me in the Pomme de Pin in half an hour!”

A ragged cheer went up from the cadets as they broke ranks and hurried for shelter.

“Good man,” said Friard, clapping Viaud on the shoulder.

CHAPTER 10

As soon as the guards had locked the cell door and she had heard their footfalls dying away into the distance, Celestine went over to the lock and tested it. It was a sturdy piece of metalwork and she realized immediately that it would take a great deal of energy to burn through it.

“Can you do it, Faie?”

“If I expend my power on this, I may not have enough left to shield you.
”

“But we have to try!”

Celestine felt the Faie summoning her aethyrial energy, creating a burning core around her heart.

“Put the tip of your finger on the lock. But the instant you sense the power begin to flow, draw it back.”

Celestine placed her fingertip as the Faie instructed her and felt the sudden surge radiate down her arm and pass into the cold metal. The lock began to glow: first red, then turning brighter until it hurt her eyes to look at it and sparks began to fizz into the air. The smell and heat from the searing metal stung her nostrils.

“It's working, it's working…”

Suddenly the brightness began to fade. Even though she willed herself to stay alert, she found herself sliding slowly to the floor. Her heart was pounding furiously and there was a ringing, rushing sound in her ears.

“Your body is too frail, Celestine,”
came the Faie's voice.
“If I go any further, it will strain your heart beyond its natural limits, and you will die.
”

* * * 

As the hours of darkness passed, Celestine lay, unable to sleep, wondering why no word of pardon or stay of execution had come from the palace. Was Adèle powerless to intervene? At length she sat up and said, “Faie, give me the power to set Jagu free.”

“Your body is not strong enough to sustain another attack.”

“But why don't you understand?” Celestine's desperation grew more intense with every passing minute. “I can't endure it a second time. I lost my father this way, I can't bear to lose Jagu too. There's no point in saving my own life if Jagu isn't there to share it with me.”

“Celestine, I am bound to protect you. I may be able to shield you from the flames, but I can't save him too.
”

“Why can't you see?” Celestine cried out. “I can't live without him. I
love
him, Faie. I love him more than life itself. You had a lover once, didn't you?”

“Mhir…
” The Faie breathed his name and Celestine felt a glow suffuse her whole body.
“He gave his life to save mine. But when I learned what he had done, it was too late to bring him back from the dead.
” The glow darkened as Celestine felt the Faie's grief for her lost love flood through her.

“But if you could have gone back in time, would you have changed places with him?”

The Faie was silent a moment, then she said,
“And what makes you think that Jagu would want your sacrifice? What kind of life would you be forcing him to live; alone, without you, knowing what you had done?”

“Celestine de Maunoir, do you have anything to say?” Maistre Donatien stood outside her cell. “You have drawn on the darkest of powers and, in doing so, you have defiled the good name of the Commanderie. If you agree to make a full public confession of your crimes, I can give you the consolation of the Sergian Church and grant you expiation for your sins.”