The False Martyr (108 page)

The soldiers arrived as
Valati Lareno was climbing from the wagon. They pushed through the
crowd to the source of the disturbance, looking decidedly nervous
despite their armor and spears. “What’s this?” their lieutenant
asked. “What’s in the bags?”

“
The people of the camp
provided food for us to distribute,” the valati
answered.

The lieutenant scoffed and
used his spear to inspect a few of the sacks. Finding that the
valati’s words were true, he seemed to grow more rather than less
nervous. “The procurement of food outside that distributed through
the ration papers is illegal. I must confiscate this.” His words
lacked conviction, and the grumbles of the crowd eroded what there
was even further. “Only the governor can overrule the order,” he
nearly begged. “He’s been called from town, so there’s nothing I
can do. It’s the Chancellor’s order.”

The crowd grew ugly at
that. They shouted insults, surged in around the cart, and began
hefting stones. The soldiers who had accompanied the lieutenant –
maybe a dozen – lifted their spears and looked back at their
commander, unsure. Valati Lareno caught the man’s arm and pulled
him down to whisper in his ear before things could go any
further.

When he finished the
lieutenant nodded. “Okay, but no funny business,” he warned, voice
tight, meant only for the valati. “The governor said I was supposed
to watch you and the lady, but you’re right, this little bit of
food is not worth a riot. Just make sure it doesn’t lead to
one.”

“
It shall be as you say,”
the valati assured. “Perhaps, you and your men can help by keeping
the line orderly at the front of the temple.”

The lieutenant nodded and
gathered his men. “Everyone to the front of the temple,” he
commanded the crowd. “Women and children will be served first.
Please, form an orderly line. If there’s trouble, we’ll shut it
down.”

At the valati’s urging,
the people listened. They slowly dispersed, moving toward the front
of the temple. “Bless the food,” he whispered in Dasen’s ear then
turned to the acolytes around him, whispering instructions in their
ears, and receiving nods in return.

With a sigh, Dasen did as
asked. He turned to the back of the wagon, closed his eyes, lowered
his head, and held his hand out over the bags. His lips moved, but
he did not actually form words. He knew now that another miracle
was about to take place. The people seemed to think so as well.
Those closest to the wagon began to nudge their neighbors, and
point. Soon every eye was on Dasen as he stood over the few sparse
bags of food, seeming to bless it.

“
That’s good. Now, come
inside.” Lareno stopped the blessing, helped Dasen down from the
wagon, and led him inside.

“
What now?” Dasen asked
when they were inside, standing in the anterooms at the back of the
temple. At that same moment, the first of the acolytes appeared,
carrying a nearly empty sack from the wagon. He was met by another
man coming down the hall that led to the temple’s basement. The
second man carried a sack that was identical in every way except
that it was bulging so that the man could barely lift it. The men
smoothly traded with the first continuing on toward the nave and
the other jogging back down the stairs past a line of his
fellows.

Valati Lareno stopped the
man with the bulging sack short of the door to the nave. “Wait here
for the signal, and remember, you’re amazed. A miracle just
occurred.” The man’s face transformed, filled with shock and
wonder. He stared at the sack before him as if he had never seen
anything like it. “Good,” the valati compliment then turned and
gave similar instructions to a half-dozen men with similar
bags.

“
Now for you,” the valati
grabbed Dasen’s arm and steered him toward the door.

“
This is too obvious,”
Dasen stopped him. “As soon as they walk through with those bags,
the governor’s going to know what we’re doing. He’ll come back here
and see it. We’ll be finished.”

“
The governor’s not
here.”

“
Then one of his
lieutenants or aides. It won’t take much to figure this
out.”

“
You’d be
surprised.”

And that was it. Lareno
led Dasen through the door onto the dais at the front of the rows
of empty pews and positioned him in a beam of light. It stung his
eyes and cooked him, but the light also illuminated him in a
rainbow of colors, bigger and brighter than life itself. The
desired imagery was so obvious that Dasen could only
groan.

“
You’d be surprised,” the
valati repeated then motioned to the counselors at the front of the
temple. Dasen held out his arms to complete the image and closed
his eyes so that he looked like he was in a trance. The counselors
threw open the doors to the crowd just as the first of the amazed
acolytes walked across the dais with his bulging sack.

“
Another miracle!” someone
from outside yelled – the voice sounded familiar. “Lady Esther has
performed another miracle. The Order is rewarding us for our
sacrifice.” Countless others repeated the call. They yelled their
thanks, proclaimed their devotion, swore their allegiance, and
Dasen silently accepted them. Standing in the sunlight, illuminated
like the Order itself, he even looked like he deserved
them.

Chapter 60

The 42 -
46
^th
Day of Summer

Cary covered his mouth
with his hand to keep his pants from giving him away. He was
half-way up the ladder to one of the hollowed hills that served as
towers in the lodge. It was pitch black, but there was nowhere for
him to go if someone came up the ladder behind him. He’d be trapped
in a room with a fifty foot drop as his only escape. His mind
struggled, trying to understand what had just happened and what he
should do about it. He wondered if Noé would stand up for him and
if it even mattered if she did. Certainly, she would never go
against her husband, so what would she say,
the outsider didn’t beat and rape me, I tripped and
fell
. No one would ever believe it. And
even if he weren’t blamed for that terrible crime, his life was
forfeit just for being in her room, for using the order passages,
for spying. Juhn had told him not to, had told him to stay out.
He’d been warned. He just hadn’t listened.

Juhn
, the name echoed through Cary’s mind. He pounded his head
against the rung of the ladder, cursing himself silently for being
the dupe. It all came down to Juhn. He saw it now, saw exactly how
he’d been manipulated. But why? He knew now what had happened. But
it didn’t make any sense. And in that moment, he decided that he
had to understand. He was already dead. It was only a matter of
time before the Morgs found him. If he was going to die, he would
at least know why.

Listening so hard that he
thought his ears might be stretching from his head, Cary lowered
himself down the ladder and looked down the halls to either side.
They were perfectly dark. There was no sound. The search had moved
on. Still, he crept out of the nook and kept his back to the wall
as he eased himself silently back toward the center of the lodge,
to the answers that were now more important than his
life.

#

“
In here, hurry.” A sliver
of light opened in the black hall. Cary burst through it, pants
falling to wheezes, legs shaking, heart pounding.

He had been cut off and
pursued so many times that he no longer had any idea where he was
in the order passages. The search almost had him. They were behind
him, in front of him, everywhere. Every passage he took seemed to
have men in robes with lamps. Every room, had a warrior in it,
watching the wall, waiting for him to emerge. And it would only
take one of those order keepers, one of those warriors seeing him,
and it would be over. Once they knew where he was, they’d pin him
in. They’d cut off all his options, encircle him, and flush him
out. It was only a matter of time.

So he had leapt through an
open door without even thinking about what might be waiting on the
other side, had heard an offer of help and taken it without
considering who it was from. The door closed behind him, and Cary
fought against the bright light in the room. He had been in pitch
blackness for an hour, and even the single lamp was like staring
into the sun. He sprawled on the floor and tried to recover, to
understand what was happening, where he was.

“
You’re safe here,” the
voice said. “No one would dare search my room.”

Juhn
, Cary realized. Just the man he was looking for. The light
was between them. Cary tried to focus, but he could not keep his
eyes open against the burning light. Instead, he judged the order
master’s location by his voice and leapt. He hit the desk. Pain
burst through his head. He felt his hair growing wet, blood
dripping over his ears and nose. He was on his stomach but could
not tell which way was up. The floor seemed to be turning. It faded
from light to black.

#

Cary was on a bed. His
hand went to his head. It pounded. A bandage bound it. The room was
dim. The single lamp on the desk had been turned down so that only
the tiniest possible flame rose from the wick. A plate of food and
a pitcher sat on the desk beside the lamp. The room was otherwise
empty.

Rising painfully from the
bed – stiff, sore, head throbbing – he thought about what had
happened. Juhn had saved him from the mob, had saved his life, but
not before setting him up to forfeit that life. Now, he was in the
order master’s own room, was safe and protected here. The blood and
grime had been scrubbed from him. His filthy clothes had been
stripped. Replacements waited on a bench near the bed.
Why?

He walked around the room,
unsure what he was looking for but certain that there must be
something that would explain why he was here, why this had all
happened. When the room proved as empty as it appeared, he dressed
then approached the door, listening. He heard nothing. There was no
way to tell in the windowless room that was accessed only by a
windowless hall, but maybe it was late in the night, maybe the
Morgs were sleeping, maybe this was his chance to escape. His hand
eased toward the knob of the door. A glance down saved
him.

He froze, hand inches from
the knob, and stared at the great black spider that covered the
handle. A weaver’s warden. They saw them occasionally in the
stables, had lost a prized stallion to one. It had almost cost
Cary’s father his job. He had no doubt what their poison could do,
knew exactly how they hunted, and he had nearly grabbed it. Slowly,
carefully, he stepped from the door, allowing his hand to follow
only imperceptibly until it was outside the range of the spider’s
famous leap. It was only when his rear hit the desk that he finally
relaxed. He put down his trembling hand and gasped. By the Order,
how had a weaver’s warden gotten onto Juhn’s doorknob?

Better than any
lock
, Cary realized in the next thought.
The spider was no happenstance. Juhn had put it there to keep him
in the room. He was trapped. This was all part of that bastard’s
plan. Juhn had lured him into this room, had placed the spider to
keep him there. But why? It was a question that Cary was sick of
hearing.

When Juhn
returns
, he promised himself,
I’ll get my answers. If I have to wring his Morg
neck, he’ll tell me.

Stomach rumbling, he
picked at the food. His head still spun, which made it hard to eat,
but he tried. No doubt, he would need his strength soon enough. The
pitcher held the strong, dark ale the Morgs drank. Cary drained a
cup then another. Even though he knew that he should keep his wits,
he could not decide why. Dead either way, he told himself as he
filled the cup for a third time.

#

There was no way for Cary
to estimate how long he was in the order master’s room. He had
slept several times. Sometimes, when he woke there was more food
and ale. He had paced the floor until he thought he might wear
through the bricks, had filled the pot in the corner with his piss,
had tried to remove the spider from the knob, had even struggled
through some of the Book of Valatarian on the desk. Still, the
hours? Days? Weeks? drug on with only his thoughts to keep him
company.

“
Time to go,” a voice
roused Cary from a deep, alcohol-assisted sleep. He woke slowly and
rubbed at his face, felt the distant throbbing in his head where he
had split his scalp. The cut was scabbed over now, the bandage
removed, but it still hurt.

“
So what’s this all
about?” Cary asked as he sat up on the bed. Juhn was behind the
desk, sitting forward. The spider was poised on the corner between
them, facing Cary like a silent warning. He looked to the knob to
confirm it was the same creature. The door was clear.

“
You can go whenever you
like,” Juhn told him, gesturing to the door. “It is Teaching Day.
Everyone is in the temple for the weekly lessons. You can sneak out
easily enough and be on your way before they ever know.”

“
Shouldn’t you be
delivering the lesson?”

“
I was removed as order
master. It was my decision that led to your brutal attack on the
Mother of Eselhelt. If I hadn’t given you access to the order
passages, all this never would have happened. Officially, they’re
still deciding what to do with me. It will be death eventually, but
no one has ever heard of anything like this so that has given me
some time.”