Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (34 page)

Kevessa shook her head. “Master Elkan sped things up last night. By a couple weeks, he said.”

“Oh.” Josiah considered that. “Anyway, right after that a bunch of flaming arrows were shot at the ships. Sar and I stopped most of them with Elkan and Tobi’s help, and the sailors doused the ones that got through. The Matriarch had Yoran Lirolla and the others arrested. She ordered them thrown in the dungeon.”

Vigorre went pale, and Kevessa gasped. “Dear Mother, no!”

At Josiah’s puzzled look, Vigorre grimly explained, “The Matriarch’s dungeon is notorious. Most of those she sends there never come out.” He turned to stare at where the palace rose above the building, his hands clenching into fists.

“Oh. I just thought it was, you know, a prison. A safe place to lock up criminals.”

“Not just criminals. Anyone who dares oppose her too openly, or gets in her way, or is inconvenient. A few months ago she threw a whole village of Dualists in there so she could give their land to Ozor.”

Nirel stiffened. Vigorre’s voice was bleak as he went on. “The conditions are terrible. Wet, cold, filthy. Prisoners are kept chained in tiny dark cells. They’re fed gruel, and not much of that. They’re stripped, beaten, tortured. If they’re not killed outright, they rot in their own waste until they die.”

Josiah stared at him. “That’s—awful. Surely not even the Matriarch—” He broke off at Vigorre’s and Kevessa’s grim nods.

Suddenly he remembered something. “Oh, no.” He grabbed Kevessa’s hands. “Gevan said he saw his sister’s husband with them. That’s your uncle, right?”

Kevessa’s mouth fell open, and her eyes grew round with horror. “Papa?” She jerked away and jumped up, reaching blindly toward where Nina was eagerly devouring a pile of nuts. “I’ve got to get him out of there!”

Vigorre seized her shoulder as Nina bristled and leaped into her arms. “You can’t defy the Matriarch. She’ll lock you up, too.”

Kevessa glowered at him and clutched Nina. “She can try.”

Josiah sprang up, heart pounding. “Kevessa, no! It’s too dangerous!”

She glared at him, angry tears in her eyes, and evaded his touch. “I don’t care!” She whirled on Vigorre. “You might be willing to leave your father to die in that horrible place, but I’m not!” She yanked away from him. “Either come with me or get out of my way.”

To Josiah’s surprise, Nirel rose and planted herself at Kevessa’s side. “I’ll go with you, Kevessa.” She put her hands on her hips and jutted her chin out at Josiah. “She’s right. She can’t let the Matriarch kill her papa, just because Yoran Lirolla tricked him. Even if you’re too afraid to help her.”

Josiah rounded on her, his pride stung. “I’m not afraid!”

“You’re acting like it,” she taunted. “Why else would you let your sweetheart go into danger alone?” As Josiah stammered, she whirled on Vigorre. “You’ll come with us, won’t you? Or are you worried the Matriarch will think your precious animals really are demons if they dare stand up to her? I guess it would look bad if they start breaking open cells and ripping down walls.”

Vigorre opened his mouth, then paused, blinked, and shut it. He shot a look at Nina. “Would the Mother let them do that?”

Kevessa nodded, eyes blazing. “To rescue helpless victims of torture, she would. Right, Nina?”

The squirrel bristled and bared her teeth. Josiah felt Sar bump against his side.
Would she?

If the dungeon is as they describe, to liberate people from such conditions would be in accord with her will.

Vigorre clenched his fists. “All right. I’m with you, Kevessa. If there’s really a chance we can get Father out of there. What about you, Josiah?”

He couldn’t let his friends take such a risk without his help, and Sar was willing. He pictured them charging into the grim, stinking warren, the Mother’s golden light blazing from their hands, bringing freedom to those unjustly imprisoned, the grateful captives cheering them on, Kevessa’s papa embracing his adopted daughter and wringing Josiah’s hand in gratitude. He nodded, his heart quickening. “Let’s go!”

Nirel flashed him a grin, Vigorre thumped him on the back, and Kevessa flung her arms around him for a breathless instant. The four of them headed for the far side of the square, hashing out a plan of attack in low voices.

As they reached the entrance of the healing area, Elkan’s voice cut into their discussion. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Josiah brightened as his master hurried across the square toward them, murmuring apologies as he pushed past waiting patients. Tobi bounded ahead and parked herself in front of Josiah, fixing him with her intelligent gaze. “Master, you’ve got to come with us. Listen to this. Vigorre, Kevessa, tell him about the dungeon.”

Vigorre and Kevessa took turns pouring out a stomach-turning description of the Matriarch’s prison, going into even more gruesome detail than before. Elkan listened, his expression becoming grimmer and grimmer, his fingers digging harder and harder into the fur on Tobi’s back.

When they finished, he took a deep breath. “Have either of you witnessed any of this personally, or is it all based on rumor?”

Vigorre shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I—not personally, no, but everyone knows it’s true. The Matriarch won’t even allow Keepers in to minister to the prisoners.”

Elkan looked up toward the palace. “It’s not enough. There needs to be an eyewitness complaint.” He frowned at Josiah. “I would have thought you, at least, would remember that.” His gaze shifted meaningfully to Nirel.

Josiah quailed at his master’s displeasure, but lifted his chin. “This is different. The Matriarch isn’t just anyone, she has power over the whole country. If she’s guilty of this sort of crime, shouldn’t she be held accountable? Even if she uses her power to keep anybody from seeing what she’s doing? The ships of food are on their way to Tevenar, so we don’t have to worry if she gets mad at us anymore.”

Kevessa chimed in. “Tharan said he’d covered up bribes and threats and assassinations for her. Isn’t that good enough evidence?”

Elkan jerked his attention to her. “Tharan?”

He listened as she gave an account of all she’d observed through the window that morning. Josiah could hardly believe what he was hearing. Could the kindly old man he’d met, so concerned for his suffering daughter, really be capable of such ruthlessness? But when he remembered how Davon had spoken of his obligation to cast Mila out of her family and her faith for the sin of seeking relief from pain, he knew he could.

Elkan pushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “That’s something,” he admitted. He looked at Tobi. “Maybe enough. If we were to go in, and demand that you be allowed to speak to your father, Vigorre, and you to your uncle, Kevessa—” He shook his head. “But even if the conditions really are that deplorable, the Matriarch won’t kill them. Not several dozen of Ramunna’s leading citizens. She’d have a revolt on her hands. And if their lives aren’t in immediate danger, we can’t risk ruining our relationship with her to free them.” He held up a hand to forestall Josiah’s protest. “Even though the ships are gone, our work here isn’t done. We have to establish the Wizards’ Guild in Ramunna. The Matriarch can prevent that, if we anger her.”

Kevessa wrinkled her nose. “She needs us to keep her baby healthy. She’ll do anything to keep us happy.”

“Only to a point. And if she’s overthrown by the Purifiers, they’ll be determined to stop us.”

Josiah stared at him. “Surely the Purifiers can’t really succeed in taking over?”

“If we help them, they might. Think. Yoran Lirolla has half of Ramunna convinced the familiars are demons. If we go tearing into the Matriarch’s palace, blazing away with the Mother’s power, how long before the guards and soldiers decide they’re right? We know some of them are Purifier spies already. The Matriarch is only as powerful as the people who enforce her orders. If she loses their loyalty, she’s doomed.”

Kevessa deflated, turning her head as tears came to her eyes. “I guess you’re right.”

Vigorre put an arm around her shoulders. “So what do you suggest? We have to do something. We can’t just leave them there.”

Josiah glared at him and pressed close to Kevessa. Vigorre had already captured Nirel’s affections; Josiah wasn’t about to let him steal Kevessa, too. Nirel must be having similar thoughts, because she plastered herself to Vigorre’s other side.

Elkan scowled at them and rubbed his forehead. “Bargain with her, the way we’ve been doing. I can make it clear our help is contingent on her treating the prisoners well.” His gaze raked the row of angry youths facing him, and a rueful smile quirked his lips. “Vigorre, you go to the palace and demand to speak to your father. You can report back to me on what you observe. Kevessa, I know you want to see your uncle, but I need you to stay here and keep healing. Nirel, you assist her, and Borlen can assist me. Josiah, I want you to keep your appointment with Gevan at his workshop. I ran into Nalini and sent her up to the University. One of the diabetic patients has volunteered to help; you can take her with you. Vigorre, Gevan’s probably still at the palace, but I doubt there’s anything useful he can do there. Tell him Josiah and Nalini are waiting for him.”

Josiah had to admit the plan sounded reasonable. He’d been carried away for a minute, but now he could see that forcing a violent confrontation would probably make matters worse. Besides, he couldn’t wait to get to Gevan’s workshop and start delving into the knotty problem of how to cure diabetes, or at least treat it without the Mother’s power.

Vigorre was reluctantly nodding; Kevessa was scowling, but it looked like she’d comply. Nirel, though, refused to back down. “What if Vigorre sees the prisoners being abused? What if the Matriarch refuses to stop it? Would you really let her baby die? I don’t believe you would. I bet she won’t, either.”

Elkan toyed with Tobi’s ears. “We don’t know yet if her body’s going to reject the child. She might have a healthy pregnancy without our help.”

“Even more reason for her to keep doing whatever she wants. You won’t ignore a dungeon full of suffering prisoners for the sake of not offending her, will you?”

Elkan was silent for a long moment, his eyes distant. When he spoke, his voice was soft but certain. “No. If she really is torturing them, and there’s no other way to stop her, we’ll use the Mother’s power to free them. But only when I give the word, and only with a well-thought-out plan in place to minimize the chance of inadvertent harm.”

Nirel nodded slowly. “All right.” She jerked her head at Kevessa. “Let’s get to work.”

Vigorre let go of Kevessa and gave Nirel a quick embrace. “I won’t be long. I promise, Kevessa, I won’t let anyone stop me until I know your papa and my father are both safe.”

“Thank you.” She shivered, gave him a wan smile, and turned away. Josiah hoped she’d have a word or hug for him, but she didn’t even glance at him as she followed Nirel back to the cot where the next patient waited.

Twenty-One

“I
must speak to my father,” Vigorre repeated for what seemed the thousandth time. “Master Elkan sent me. The Matriarch will be displeased if you refuse his request.”

Apparently he’d finally worked his way through the ranks of guards to someone with actual authority. The soldier eyed him, then gestured toward a stone bench that jutted from the wall of the windowless room. “Wait there. I’ll have a decision for you in a moment.”

It was far longer than a moment, and Vigorre was chilled through and stiff from the cold seat when the man finally returned. “The Matriarch has granted your request. Follow me.”

Thank the Mother. Vigorre followed the guard’s flickering lantern through a maze of narrow low corridors and down several flights of tightly twisted stairs. They were at least fifty feet below the main level of the palace, deep within the cliff, when the guard used a large key to open an iron-banded wooden door. “In there. Keeper Emirre is in the third cell on the left. You’ve got ten minutes.”

Vigorre nodded, his mouth dry, and stepped through the door. It crashed shut behind him. The only light came from a single smoky oil lamp at the far end of the long hall. Ducking his head to keep from banging it against the low, rough ceiling, he put his hand on the left wall and groped past two metal grates that blocked the openings to tiny, empty cells.

At the third he stopped and peered into the gloom. “Father?” he whispered.

“Vigorre?” His father’s voice was shocked. A dim form moved, and suddenly frail hands were reaching through the grate to grasp his. Emirre’s face was a pale oval behind the bars. “Dear Mother, son, what are you doing here?”

“I had to make sure you were safe.” Vigorre clung to his father’s hands, encouraged by their firm grip. “What has she done to you?”

Emirre chuckled grimly. “Nothing dire. Though I must admit, cold stone is hard on old bones. Still, it’s nothing I can’t endure for a few days. Long enough for Keeper Yoran’s plan to bear fruit.”

“He has a plan? This is part of it?” Vigorre’s breath quickened.

“Not his first choice, I understand, but a contingency he accounted for.” Emirre jerked his head. “Ask him yourself. He’s across the way, a few cells down.” His voice rose. “Yoran? Vigorre’s here.”

A snort suggested Keeper Yoran had been drowsing. “Vigorre? Praise the Mother. This is a welcome surprise.”

Vigorre squeezed his father’s hands and released them. His eyes had become sufficiently adjusted to the dim light that he could make out Yoran’s face peering from his cell and walk there without stumbling. “Keeper Yoran. You’re well?”

“Well enough. The Matriarch’s dungeon isn’t pleasant, but I can’t say it lives up to its reputation.” Yoran grasped his hand in turn.

Vigorre breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Kevessa and Josiah were all set to come charging in here and tear the place apart, until Elkan talked them down.” He swallowed. “They still will, if that would suit your plan. Elkan was afraid the guards would see the truth about the demons and turn against the Matriarch if they saw them fighting and breaking the cells open. All I’d have to do is lie and tell them I saw Father in pain.”