03 - The Eternal Rose (27 page)

A rustle of movement had her looking around to see everyone else in the room on their knees. Torchay led out, reciting the oath Padrey had just spoken. Tears choked off her voice,
dammit
. Of all the times to be unable to speak.

Kallista grabbed Joh, on one knee just behind her new Tayo Dai, and pulled him to his feet, into a hug. She had to hold him for a long moment before she could find her voice again. “You are my
ilian
. We have already sworn vows of devotion and service to each other. I do not need more."

She looked past Joh, past Fox, to Gweric. “
Your
vow, I will take.” She strode to him, laid her hand and the blessing of the One over his eyes.

“And I'll take that of anyone else—who is not Reinas—who wants to give it. Later.” Kallista motioned everyone to their feet. “Get up, get up. We have work to do. Padrey, Gweric, off you go. Stay out of trouble. You can't serve if you're locked up somewhere, or worse."

The two young men bowed and strode out together, obviously bursting to talk about what had just happened.

She blew out a breath. “Now. Torchay, somebody's going to have to be in charge of the new Tayo Dai. You just got the job. Find out what the insignia used to be—"

“A naked sword crossing a long-stemmed red rose,” Torchay said. “I'll have badges made."

Kallista raised an eyebrow. “Seems I picked the right person for the job. Know all the old stories, do you?"

“Why do you think I became a bodyguard? I've been your Tayo Dai from the first."

“Why here?” Kallista didn't understand it. “Why now? It's been hundreds of years since—"

“Because now we have a Reinine worthy of the oath, and dangerous times that call for it.” Torchay paused. “You can't take a Tayo Dai oath from just anyone, no matter what you said."

“It's your job to make sure they understand exactly what they're swearing, that it's not just the latest fashion. I can test them too, with truthsaying magic, for sincerity. But if they mean it, truly mean it, then yes, I'll take them.” Kallista turned to Viyelle. “I assume the diplomatic staff have been busy with the trade agreement that brought us here."

“Yes,” Viyelle acknowledged.

“That stops today.” Kallista looked at the small, four-sided clock on the low table in the room's center. “They should still be at lunch. Send word, quickly. Our people do not go back into the meeting room. Recall them now. Until this situation—this ‘trial'—is concluded, we do not negotiate."

“Isn't that putting personal matters ahead of the nation's?” Joh asked.

“No. Because Sky is only the first slave we will free. After the trial—
after,
because I won't risk his safety—we will demand the immediate release of all Adaran slaves."

“Oh saints,” Keldrey muttered. “Did we bring enough troops to defend against the whole city? We
are
in the middle of
their
country, Kallista."

“We have a secret weapon, dearest Keldrey.” She waggled her ungloved hands at him. “But, when the Daryathi ask why we have suspended the formal talks, tell them...” What truth would deflect greatest trouble?

She sighed. “It's a bit late to use Stone's death as an excuse, if the talks have continued afterward."

“We objected,” Viyelle said. “But with you—
away
—"

“You didn't have the power to tell them no,” Kallista finished. “So, our excuse: I am
outraged
by the lack of respect for my Godmarked's death. Negotiations will continue when I am no longer distracted by this trial. How does that sound?"

“Like you are weak, indecisive and easily distracted.” Obed's voice was sour.

Kallista grinned at him. “Excellent. And when we prove them wrong, it will set them scrambling."

Obed shook his head, but he smiled. “Are we to the trial?"

She surveyed the others, but no one spoke. “We are."

Chapter Sixteen

Quickly, Obed told Kallista what the others already knew. “Now we have to select those who will serve as our champions."

“I fight,” Leyja said.

“No.” Kallista shook her head hard enough to send her queue flying.

“You can't hold back your best fighters out of fear we'll be hurt,” Torchay said.

“
Are
we her best fighters?” Keldrey asked. “We were losing steps six years ago, Leyja. And it's been six years. We're all older than we were."

“I'm younger than you are.” Leyja seemed on the edge of striking out until Aisse touched her arm, quieting her.

“We need eight champions,” Obed said. “We are eight, but not all of us can fight on the level needed for this trial."

“And what level is that?” Torchay sauntered toward Obed, a smile on his face and challenge in every line of his body. They'd been trying to best each other since they'd met, and neither had managed it yet.

“High.” Obed's smile answered the challenge with its own. “Very, very high."

“No fighting in the house,” Aisse scolded. “How do you expect your children to follow the rules if you don't?"

They glanced at her and the challenge dissolved in laughter. “But it is a good idea,” Obed said. “Test our people against each other. Only the best to fight in the trial."

“Can we be sure our best will be good enough to win?” Fox said. “We
have to win
this trial."

“I have contacts in my old skola. I can arrange for a test against their best.” Obed ran his fingers idly along the hilt of his sword. Kallista was sure he didn't realize it. “We do not have to be showy,” he said. “We only have to win."

“Without killing,” Kallista said. “And no one gets hurt in these tests of yours. Not a scratch."

“Bruises aren't scratches.” Fox shrugged away Kallista's worry.

“You can't fight your best if you're banged up.” She grabbed Fox by the base of his queue and shook his head gently. “Use that sense Stone was always going on about."

“The testing will be good training,” Torchay said. “Get us ready for trial."

“Do we have a date yet?” Kallista squeezed under Fox's arm and he obligingly draped it around her.

“Three weeks after we both name our champions,” Obed said, scowling. At Fox? Why? Goddess, please, not more jealousy.

Kallista scowled back. “Can Habadra delay this indefinitely by not naming champions?"

Obed shook his head. “A trial can be delayed only if both parties fail to name champions. Once one side lists names, the other has a full week, less the three virtues, to file their list with the justiciars, and the trial is scheduled."

“We'll start testing in the morning,” Torchay said.

“What's wrong with this afternoon?” Kallista wanted Sky home as soon as possible, but she didn't want anyone hurt.

“Tomorrow's soon enough.” Torchay planted a kiss on her forehead where she stood with Fox's arm around her. “Today, we'll be passing the word, explaining what it's about and asking for volunteers."

Kallista took a deep breath and hugged them both. “Yes, you're right. Tomorrow's fine. I just—"

“Shall we begin?” Obed's voice boomed across the room, interrupting them. His jealousy was getting worse, but how bad would it get? Enough to disrupt the magic? They couldn't afford to let that happen, but Kallista didn't know what else to do to make it stop.

* * * *

The weekend was relatively peaceful, spent playing with the children and taking oaths from a double-score of new Tayo Dai—all the bodyguard corps and Captain Kargyll. In the middle of the night, as Peaceday slid quietly into Firstday, a rumbling crash in the near distance brought the entire embassy awake. Anyone who had lived through the gunpowder explosions of the invasion and the Barinirab rebellion knew that sound.

With everyone on alert and the Reinine tucked away with her family behind layers of guards, Padrey checked in with the Tayo, Torchay Reinas, to see if he had any orders. The Reinine sent Padrey to see what was happening. He'd have been gone already—he hated not knowing things—but he was Tayo Dai now. Better to go with orders.

The whole of Mestada's center was filled with people running all directions in the dark, all of them shouting impossible, contradictory things. It wasn't until Padrey reached the temple square that he saw what had actually happened.

Both walls around the temple lay crumbled to the ground in two neat rows, opening the temple grounds and the temple itself to the public. Crowds gathered despite the hour to gawk, a few of them pocketing bits of rubble as souvenirs.

“What happened?” Padrey pulled his hood forward as he caught the arm of a ragged beggar, one of those who lived near the temple where the begging was good.

“The walls fell straight down. They just fell.” The man looked Padrey in the eye and straightened his gnarled fingers. “Nathains came out of the temple. Six of them, or seven. One of them healed me.
Look
.” He stretched his arms wide and twisted from side to side, his back straight. Padrey remembered him now. This man had been hunched over, curled into a ball by the disease that had twisted his back and crippled his fingers.

“She healed me,” he said. “And the walls fell down and the nathains ran away."

The beggar hunched his shoulders, ducked his head. Padrey looked back, around the edge of his hood, and saw the shaved heads and white robes of Sameric clerics as they scrambled over the fallen rubble. Some stayed to guard the walls. Most fanned out into the crowd, obviously hunting the runaway magic-users.

Padrey beckoned the man closer. “Do you know where the nathains were going?” he asked, just loud enough to be heard.

The ex-cripple tightened his lips, refusing to speak.

“You know me.” Padrey slid his hood back for the beggar to see his face. “You know I wouldn't betray anyone to
them
."

The man looked over his shoulder—a motion he couldn't have made before—and leaned even closer to Padrey. “They went to your people.” He nodded knowingly. “I heard them say something about the free nathains."

“Right. Thanks.” Padrey didn't know if this was good news or bad, but it was news his Reinine needed. Before the runaway naitani reached the embassy. Fortunately, he knew shortcuts.

“They wore robes like the clerics,” the beggar said before Padrey took more than a step. “But in colors. Like the compass."

“Right.” Padrey gathered all the coin he carried for bribes, and dumped it into the man's hands. He needed to be lighter for this run, anyway.

Along the tops of narrow walls and across roofs and balconies, dropping to the crowded streets only when absolutely necessary, Padrey flew back to the embassy. The guard on the alley door knew to let him in quickly and quietly, and moments later, Padrey was gasping out his report to the Reinine.

She frowned as she paced. “This is good, that their naitani are breaking out of the temple. It's nothing
we
did. But if they come here, it will cause trouble. Everyone would
think
we did it, knocking down the walls and such."

The Reinine stopped and swung on Padrey, her lightning blue gaze locking onto him. He couldn't help his flinch.

“Can you find them a place somewhere else?” she asked. “Somewhere the clerics can't take them back easily?"

Padrey started to deny the possibility, until he remembered the beggar's behavior, his willingness to hide the naitani from the clerics. “I might know a place."

“Good. Then go. Stop them before they get here."

He nodded, took a deep drink of the water someone had given him, and slipped back out the door. Where did one go to find runaway naitani? People who had no idea how the world worked? Gweric fell into step next to him.

“What are you doing here?” Padrey glowered over his shoulder at Gweric's oversized bodyguard shadow. “Anyone sees you two, they'll know Adarans helped the naitani get away."

“We have robes.” Gweric shrugged into his, pulled the hood up over his bright gold hair. A moment later, Kerry did the same. Though his hair was brown, his military queue and bodyguard uniform marked him as Adaran.

“We won't approach. Once I help you find them, we'll leave you to it.” Gweric waited for Padrey to open the alley door.

The plan made sense. Gweric would easily see the naitani magic in a city with all the other magic-users locked away for the night. Padrey plunged into the alley's darkness, the other two on his heels.

They wandered a while before Gweric led them down Kameral Street toward Cotton Road. Where they crossed, the broad paving of Rose Square was inlaid with a stylized compass, a rose-fountain rising at its center. “There.” Gweric pointed.

Dawn's faint glow gave color to the robes of the young people clustered nervously by the fountain—blue, yellow, green and unrelieved black. Padrey nodded to Gweric and Kerry as they faded away, and he approached the nathains.

He dipped his head for a drink, rinsed his hands in the waterflow, and spoke without looking at his targets. “Greetings from Adara's Reinine to the free nathains of Daryath."

Those nearest him startled when he addressed them as nathains and the men scrambled to push the women behind them—three men, four women. “
You're
the Reinine?” one of the women asked, disbelievingly.

“Course not. She sent me to find you.” He tipped his head as if for another drink and drew his hood back enough to show his sun-bleached hair just as the man in black spoke.

“Truth,” he said.

Truthsayer, then. That made things easier.

“What does she want?” the woman in green, who'd spoken before, asked. “Why did she send you?"

“To tell you not to come to the embassy.” Padrey put up a hand against the aura of despair even he could sense coming off them at his words. “It's the first place the clerics would look, and already they're preaching against us. Against Adarans. But I know where you can go. It won't be too comfortable but it's big enough to hold you all, and if you help the folk there like you helped that beggar outside the temple, they'll protect you."

“Where is it you're taking us?” the truthsayer asked as they started off.

“My old place. Down by the river docks and the main canal. It's an attic—be getting colder now, so you'd best be getting blankets and such to keep warm, because it's drafty. I still have my stuff there, so no one new'll have taken it up yet. And if they have, they'll vacate for nathains."