Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (12 page)

A small smile curved Yoran’s lips as he settled back in his chair. “You’re very perceptive, my son.”

Vigorre ignored the patronizing tone of Yoran’s voice. “I know the Purifiers have secret writings that warn of false wizards. I know you have a plan to stop them. I want to help.”

Yoran’s gaze sharpened and his brows drew together. “Those writings aren’t common knowledge.”

“My father told me about them.”

“Of course.” The lines on Yoran’s forehead smoothed out. “As First Keeper, Emirre would naturally inform himself of the beliefs of all under his jurisdiction. I can’t tell you much until you’ve taken the vows. But—you’re not wrong. The wizards from Tevenar are a menace, and the Purifiers are prepared to deal with them. We’ve already taken the first steps.”

Vigorre breathed out hard and slumped back in his chair. “Thank the Mother.”

Yoran studied him. “We do, however, need all the help we can get. The false wizards will be a formidable foe. You could prove a great asset to our cause. Particularly if you can persuade your father to cooperate with us.”

Vigorre nodded. As a newly ordained Keeper he had little to offer the Purifiers in his own right. But this was hardly the first time he’d been asked to use his influence with his father. He’d always refused before, but this time he could agree with a clear conscience. “Father knows the Tevenaran wizards aren’t what they pretend to be. Even if he continues to resist the rest of the Purifier reforms, he’ll be your ally in this, if I ask him.”

Thoughtfully, Yoran nodded. “Very well. When shall we schedule your vow ceremony?”

Vigorre leaned forward. “Can we do it now?”

Yoran looked taken aback. He gave a little laugh. “You really are eager.” But then his eyes took on a calculating look. “In fact, I think we can. All that’s really necessary are two witnesses; everything else is just trappings. And there’s something I want your father to see. Having you fully committed to our cause will simplify things greatly.” He nodded and rose. “Come with me.”

Vigorre followed Yoran as he strode from the office. At Yoran’s direction he knelt on the steps of the dais while Yoran bustled about summoning two Purifier Keepers from their tasks in other parts of the temple. A great sense of peace settled over his heart. He was doing the right thing. The Mother was pleased. He would help protect her children from the forces of evil that sought to enslave them. And perhaps he’d find that the Purifiers weren’t as mistaken about the rest of their beliefs as he used to assume.

So when Keeper Yoran stood before him, the two witnesses on either side, and spoke the words of the vow, Vigorre repeated them with conviction. “I, Vigorre Rothen, do solemnly swear to follow the path of pure worship of the Mother. I renounce the pursuit of personal wealth, acclaim, or power, and dedicate all that I am and have to the Mother’s service. I swear to hold in strict confidence any secrets entrusted to me by the Mother’s servants. I swear to obey the commands of those the Mother has appointed to authority over me. I reject all temptations of false power, all deceits of false doctrine, all comforts of false hope, for myself and for those I serve. All these things I swear in the Mother’s holy name, from now until she calls me to her side.”

Yoran put both hands on Vigorre’s head. The two witnesses put their hands on Vigorre’s shoulders. All of them bowed their heads for a long moment. Vigorre closed his eyes and silently affirmed his vow.
I swear it, Mother.

Yoran removed his hands, followed by the others. Vigorre looked up to see him smiling. “It is done,” he said. He drew Vigorre to his feet. “Welcome to the Purifiers, Keeper Vigorre.”

“Thank you,” Vigorre said. “May I see the secret writings now? I want to know the truth.”

Yoran eyed him. “Normally an initiate would receive other instruction first, but I think in your case we’ll make an exception. You’ll need to understand what I’m going to show you and your father tonight.” He dismissed the other Keepers with a wave and led Vigorre back to his office.

As Yoran opened the door, Vigorre heard a faint noise, a series of dull thumps punctuated by a high pitched cry. It seemed to come from far beneath the stone floor. He froze. “What’s that?”

Yoran glanced over his shoulder, toward the back of the dais. He shook his head with grim satisfaction. “You’ll see soon enough. For now, rest assured that we’ve won our first victory against the Lord of Demons.”

Vigorre drew in his breath. “Lord of Demons?”

Yoran ushered him back to the chair in front of his desk. “I’ll let the holy Yashonna explain it to you.” He took a ring of keys from inside his robe, unlocked a drawer on the right side of his desk, and did something Vigorre couldn’t see. Then he drew out a flat box engraved with an image of the Mother’s hands and used a second, smaller key to unlock it. He opened the box, took out a slim volume, and handed it to Vigorre. “It’s not long. I’ll wait while you read it.”

Vigorre opened the leather cover of the book. The title was inscribed in a neat hand on the first page, written in the same ancient Marvannan as the holy Yashonna’s other writings. Learning to read the scriptures in their original language was part of an acolyte’s education. Vigorre mentally translated the words to Ramunnan as he read.
Concerning Demons in the Form of Animals and the Likeness of the Mother’s Power They Wield. Written by Yashonna Erlorre in the first year of the Oligarchy of Tharanirre Fovarre and Kevonna Arthen.

He blinked and looked up at Yoran, incredulous. Yoran inclined his head. “Yes, these are the earliest known writings of Yashonna. They predate the rest of the canon by approximately five years.”

Before the death of Tharanirre’s second husband and her marriage to Yashonna, which had made him Oligarch. Yashonna had been little older than Vigorre was now. Not long after the Mother had first spoken to his father, the prophet Guron, on the day she took her power away from the ancient wizards.

Vigorre’s hand shook as he turned the first page. Yashonna’s accounts of the Mother’s revelations to Guron were the most sacred texts of the Temple. To be holding an even earlier document from Yashonna’s pen was profoundly thrilling. Surely he was about to read words dictated by the Mother herself.

The account was short, as Yoran had said, only a dozen pages. Yashonna described his capture by a group of renegade former wizards who, in their desperation to regain their lost powers, had enslaved themselves to demons. The creatures looked like ordinary animals except for their blazing red eyes. One had taken the shape of an enormous rat, another a fierce cat, yet another a sinister snake. They and their human slaves had imprisoned him in bonds of power that shone gold in clever mockery of the Mother’s power. A vicious hound had guarded him, and a black carrion bird had kept watch from above. Vigorre’s pulse quickened as he read the dramatic description of how Yashonna, during a momentary lapse of his captor’s vigilance, had felled his guard with a blow to the head and escaped. He had fled to the Oligarchs for protection and written this account immediately after reaching the safety of their palace.

The most important part came at the end. Vigorre swallowed as he read Yashonna’s verdict.
I am convinced these creatures serve the one the Dualist heretics name the Lord of Justice, who should more rightly be called the Lord of Demons. He sent them into the world to deceive those of us the Mother once trusted with her gifts and to entrap us with the temptation of a return of our power. The temptation is sweet, as all evil temptations seem at first, for we well remember the great blessings the Mother’s power gave. But the Mother removed her power from the world because we turned it to evil. So also will this counterfeit of her power turn those who accept it to evil. Beware, wizard, lest you fall into temptation! For if, in the noble desire to heal and help and show truth as the Mother commands, you willingly accept servitude to one of these animals, the Lord of Demons will own your soul for all eternity.

Vigorre stared at the final words. Nirel couldn’t have known the content of this account, or even of its existence, yet her description of what she’d seen bore out its truth. Here was proof of her assertion that the wizards of Tevenar lied when they claimed their power came from the Mother. Tevenar was ruled by demons.

And now they had come to Ramunna.

Yoran reached for the book. Vigorre surrendered it numbly and watched as Yoran returned it to its hiding place. The Purifier regarded him with compassion. “Horrifying, isn’t it?”

Vigorre nodded convulsively. “Yes. Though no more than I expected.”

One corner of Yoran’s mouth lifted. “What you must always remember, son, is that no matter how strong the demons are, the Mother is stronger. As long as we remain true to her, we cannot fail. She will guide us to victory.”

His words soothed the turmoil in Vigorre’s heart. Of course she would. He inclined his head. “I’ll remember, Keeper Yoran.”

“Good.” Yoran leaned forward, all brisk business. “Now to the matter of your service. Did anyone observe you coming here this morning?”

Vigorre blinked “My family knows I came, and I guess perhaps someone who knows me might have seen me on the street. I didn’t try to hide. Why?”

Yoran sat back and steepled his fingers. “I want you to tell anyone who asks that you met with me, had your questions answered, and decided that the Purifier way was not for you. Only ourselves and the witnesses know of your vows, and they will remain silent at my command. You may inform your father of the truth, but no one else. I want you to continue serving as a junior Keeper in his temple, just as you planned.”

Vigorre opened his mouth to argue, but his vow, with its promise of obedience, was fresh in his mind, so he caught himself and inclined his head. “Yes, Keeper Yoran. Am I permitted to ask why?”

“It sometimes serves the Mother to keep the identities of those who embrace our doctrine private. You won’t be the only one of our Keepers who continues to wear embroidered robes. In your case, there’s an important task I want you to perform which would be impossible if your true commitment were made public. Your devotion to the people of the Beggars’ Quarter is well known. No one will be surprised if you seek out those who have begun to minister to them and offer your aid.”

Cold shot down Vigorre’s spine and pooled in his gut. “The false wizards? You want me to
help
them?”

“I want you to befriend them and win their trust. It shouldn’t be hard; just present yourself as the eager, idealistic young Keeper you are. They have to maintain the illusion that they wish to help the people of Ramunna, so they’ll welcome you.” Yoran smiled encouragingly. “You can even do some good for the folk of the Quarter in the process. The demons’ power is evil, but the healing it performs is real. I expect they intend to expend only the minimum effort needed to win the people to their side, but with you watching they’ll be forced to do far more in order to maintain their disguise.”

“But—Keeper, I’ll have to go near their demons, help subject people to their power, maybe even touch them!” Vigorre fought to quell the trembling that seized him. “How can we know they won’t see through my pretense?”

“We don’t.” Yoran eyed him gravely. “I know what I ask will require great courage. If you feel yourself unequal to the task, I’ll find some other to perform it.”

“No.” Vigorre swallowed. “I will. I just—I don’t want to be corrupted.”

“You won’t be.” Yoran fixed him with an intense gaze. “The Mother has granted her children free will. The demons’ slaves have chosen to serve them. They can do nothing to you against your will. Be alert to their trickery, remain firm in your devotion to the Mother, and they can’t harm you.”

“I understand.” Although even if his soul was safe, they could inflict physical damage. The mountain cat’s claws and teeth and the donkey’s hooves were deadly weapons. And their power could imprison and kill as well as heal. Nirel’s story proved that.

“Good. You can learn about their strengths and vulnerabilities and pass the information to us. Once they’ve come to trust you, you can lead them into a trap.”

“Ah.” Keeper Yoran’s plan suddenly made sense to Vigorre. Of course he was willing to risk associating with the wizards and their beasts if by doing so he could help bring about their downfall. “I see.” He straightened. “I’ll be honored, Keeper Yoran.”

“Wonderful.” Yoran rose and gestured for Vigorre to do the same. “Unless you have further questions, I think we’re finished here. Go home and inform your family of your decision to remain on the conventional path. Tell your father the truth and arrange to return here with him after sunset. Then go to the Beggars’ Quarter and begin cultivating the false wizards’ friendship.”

“Yes, Keeper.” It was a great relief to have a clear path laid out in front of him. Before today he’d been wary of Yoran and put off by his arrogant manner. But now he knew the full truth about the enemy they faced, he found the Purifier leader’s certainty reassuring. He was well suited to lead them in a war in which hesitation or doubt could prove fatal to their cause, and all of Ravanetha with it.

Yoran ushered him out of the temple and bid him farewell. Vigorre started along the street toward the wealthy district high above the harbor where the First Keeper’s luxurious home was located. After a few steps a thought occurred to him and he turned back, but Keeper Yoran had already closed the doors of the temple and vanished.

Vigorre continued on his way. Surely Yoran wouldn’t mind if he told Nirel the truth about his commitment to the Purifiers. They were practically betrothed. She would be excited to hear that he was taking concrete steps to help rid the world of the evil that had caused her so much suffering. And he had to let her know the real reason behind his sudden desire to befriend the wizards, because otherwise she would see it as a betrayal. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he’d ceased to believe the secret she’d trusted him with, now that he knew beyond any doubt her story was true.

Seven

N
irel blinked hard as the cold, stinging drops splashed in first one eye, then the other. She squeezed her lids tight shut, scrunched her whole face, and shook her head hard. Putting her hands over her eyes, she flung her head back and forth, hair whipping. She kept it up until she was sure she’d given her pupils long enough to return to normal size.