Judge (13 page)

Infinite, why don’t these people, these hypocrites, see what they’re doing?

A rush of images answered. Oh no. A vision. Ela leaned against a vendor’s booth and shut her eyes—enduring the pain.

Beka gripped her arm. “Ela? Do you need to sit down?”

The vision ended as abruptly as it had begun. Ela drew in a deep breath and urged Beka, “Go ahead with Jon. I’m well.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you.” As Beka moved off, Ela opened her eyes . . . and stared directly at the first portion of her vision, an exquisite white linen sash. Ela turned to the vendor, who was frowning at her—probably because she’d leaned on his table. “How much for that sash?”

“One weight of silver.”

“Sorry. I can’t afford one weight,” Ela countered. “What about a half?”

The man’s expression hardened. “Three quarters. This is incomparable linen. My best! Meant for the temple’s priests! I won’t accept less than three-quarter weight of silver.”

“Three quarters of a weight, then.” The price was almost as much as all of Mother’s remaining purchases combined, Ela was sure. Nauseated, she opened Kalme’s coin purse and recited in her thoughts,
Mother, the Infinite commanded me to buy this sash instead of fabric for my mantle
. . . .

As she was paying, two young men ambled into her line of vision. Handsome. Dark-curled. Arrogant. Sius and Za’af Chacen . . . watching her. Ela lifted her chin, allowing the brothers to see her contempt for everything they’d done. All the souls they’d misled. All the evils they were now planning. Her stomach twisting, she knotted the sash at her waist, grabbed the branch, and marched off to find Beka, as well as dried fruit, meat, and a cheaper fabric vendor to provide material for Tzana’s new mantle. The Chacens followed.

“Well.” Beka turned from a spice merchant’s stall and surveyed Ela’s attire. “That’s not
quite
the sash I would have chosen for you, but . . .”

“The Infinite chose it,” Ela murmured, watching the Chacens eyeing her and Beka.

“Yes, but you can still tie it in a more fashionable manner.”

“This has nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with souls.”

“Oh.” Beka’s lovely face skewed into a slight frown. “Well, I suppose you can wear it that way if you must, but at least let
me
choose the fabric for Tzana’s new mantle.”

“For half a weight of silver?”

Her friend hesitated. “And one dram is worth four weights of silver . . . so that leaves me with seven bits of a dram left from today’s allowance. . . .”

“Yes.” Guilt ate at Ela. Were her friends drained of money?

Finished with her calculations, Beka said, “My, but I’m still rich!”

Ela laughed. “And I’m blessed to have you as a friend.”

“Yes, you are. Now, let’s see. Tzana’s color is a bright pink. Or at least bright blue.”

Somehow, their laughter frustrated Sius and Za’af Chacen. The young men lingered a while longer, then stalked away—leaving Ela and Beka. With their arms full of fabrics and foodstuffs, the girls crossed the marketplace to the Murder Maze to meet Jon. He was leaning against a wall but straightened as they approached, clearly eager to return to camp for the night. Jon lifted his gear onto his back, then grumbled as he purchased a torch from a gate vendor. “I feel like a common foot soldier again. I should have brought one of my servants to help carry all this. Ela, who were those young men following you through the marketplace?”

“Sius and Za’af Chacen. Sons of the deposed high priest.”

“They didn’t look too friendly.” Jon grimaced as the vendor lit the torch. “Tell us, Prophet, did you have something to do with their deposed father’s downfall?”

“The Infinite did.”

“Through you?”

“Of course. But don’t worry—they’re gone for now. Anyway, they won’t trouble you or Beka because you’re armed and a soldier. And the owner of a destroyer.”

“Nevertheless, I ought to confront them,” Jon argued as they entered the Murder Maze.

“Dearest,” Beka soothed, her voice echoing lightly in the tunnel, “I’m sure we’re safe.”

“I’m not. Ela, does your father know those men are stalking you?”

“Yes. And so does the Infinite. Don’t worry, Jon. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” From what she’d seen in her vision, she’d confront the Chacens later. For now, she wanted to enjoy her visit with her friends. As they turned the last corner of the Murder Maze, a deep rumble vibrated through the murky tunnel.

“A cave-in!” Beka gasped. “Or—”

Ela recognized the source of the commotion at the outer gate. “Pet!” She scooted forward and nuzzled his big face. “Sweet rascal! Now move back and let us through. Back up.”

He whooshed a soggy, contented sigh into her hair. Ela frowned in the darkness. Really, much as she loved her destroyer, he had to move. Her packages were becoming heavy, and she needed to rest a bit before this evening’s confrontation in Parne. “I know you’ve missed me—I’ve missed you. However, you must move back!
Obey!
”

Branch in hand, Ela rushed through the sunlight’s deepening glow, across Parne’s public rooftop paths, taking her family’s usual route toward the temple—the most direct way there. She must arrive before evening sacrifices to speak to Parne’s worshipers.

“Let them hear,” Ela begged the Infinite in a despairing whisper. “Let them return to You again, with the love they first knew for You!”

Still praying, she climbed the steps of Parne’s highest roof path and turned, scurrying past a terraced garden and its shaded rooftop entry to the private home below. Her mantle snagged, halting her. Ela turned to free herself from whatever had caught her cloak—and walked directly into a young man. Not just any young man, but her former would-be husband. “Amar!”

He slapped a hand over Ela’s mouth, swung her into the shadowed entry, and slammed the door behind them.

 14 

A
mar, let go!” She tried to step away. But the rooftop entry, like most in Parne, was dimly lit and offered little maneuvering room. Unnerved, Ela wobbled between the wall and the rail of a small wooden landing that led to a narrow flight of stairs.

Amar laughed and gripped her forearms. “I
knew
you would come this way! Some things never change, do they?” He pressed Ela against the landing’s wall. His voice turned coaxing, low and intense. “Ela, listen to me . . . we need to talk.”

Listen? Talk? The warmth of his body and the nearness of his mouth to hers contradicted those words. Was he trying to seduce her? Struggling, turning her head away, she warned, “If you thought I’d be amused by this, you were mistaken. Let me
go
!”

“Why should I? You know, I’d forgotten how pretty you are.” He bent to kiss her throat—a freedom she’d never allowed him when they were betrothed.

“Amar!” She shoved him with all her might and kicked his shins.

As he laughed and stepped backward, Ela noticed shadows flickering behind him, crowding the entry. Twisting shades of darkness coiled around Amar, then showed their faces, gloating at Ela as if to say,
We have him. You can do nothing.

Deceivers! She lunged for the door.

Amar grabbed her waist, pulling her against him once more,
his bruising grip at odds with his lulling whisper. “Why are you trying to avoid me? Stay. Listen to me. We were mistaken to abandon our marriage plans, and we ought to go downstairs and discuss matters.”

“No!” Her reputation would be ruined. Unable to free herself, Ela screamed and fought, trying to hit Amar with the branch.

“Hush!” He seized her wrist and smashed her hand against the wall. Pain stabbed through Ela’s fingers. She cried out as her precious insignia clattered down the stairs into the room below. Amar lifted Ela off her feet and followed the branch’s path, hauling her down the stairs.

Ela fought, screaming, tearing at Amar’s hair with her uninjured hand.

Amar swore. “Shut up! Ow!” He lurched down the final steps and dropped her, feet first.

She tottered against a plastered wall, struggling for balance. If Amar was attempting reconciliation, he was failing! Ela turned from the wall, longing to wound him. Viciously. “Listen, you—!”

She gasped, now recognizing this room and its occupants. Sius and Za’af Chacen loomed behind Amar, smirking, their eyes flint-dark and hateful—just as she’d seen in this afternoon’s vision. Sius asked, “Did you think we’d let you escape punishment for what you’ve done?”

Ela shrieked a frantic prayer. “Infinite!”

A heated blue-white gleam appeared in her palm, swift and brilliant as lightning, forming the branch. She swung a wide arc at her attackers and all three fell back, yelling and clutching their faces. The stench of seared flesh filled the room. The deceivers vanished like smoke blasted by a ferocious, cleansing wind.

Ela fled for the stairs, praying the young men wouldn’t follow her.

They didn’t.

She dashed up the stairs, shoved open the door, and staggered onto the high terrace, gasping for air. If she were a cursing sort,
she’d curse Amar and the Chacens now. Her gasps became sobs, and she blinked at tears.

Despite her shakiness, Ela rushed along the path toward the temple. She should have been more watchful. She shouldn’t have asked her parents to avoid the temple tonight. Yet her beloved Creator had protected her. . . . Her voice wavering, pathetic, she whispered, “Infinite.”

I am here.

“I know.” Tears slid down her face now. “Thank You.” Hurried footsteps clattered on the paved path behind her. Were Amar and the Chacens planning to throw her off the wall? Ela turned, braced for battle. From now on, if she survived, she would take the street-level path to the temple. Winding and lengthy as it was, at least she couldn’t be shoved off a ledge to her death. A gray-clad figure hesitated. A woman. Sharp brown eyes in a thin face. “Matron Prill.”

“Yes.” Ela’s childhood foe approached, clearly concerned. “Why are you crying?”

Infinite, You sent her, didn’t You?

Yes.

All right. For whatever reason, she would accept Prill’s presence. Ela cast a nervous glance up the path, beyond the matron, toward the entry door. Stillness met her gaze. Only the leaves fluttered in the tiny terraced garden. Where were those three young men? Undoubtedly planning trouble. To Matron Prill, she said, “Pray for me, please.”

“I’d like to walk with you,” the woman said. She matched her steps to Ela’s as they moved along. “I presume you are going to the temple.”

“You know I am.” Beyond doubt, the Roehs’ habits were too predictable.

“But won’t you tell me why you are crying?”

Did the matron have to sound so kind and concerned? Fresh tears welled, stinging Ela’s eyes as she marched onward. “Amar and the Chacens were tormenting me.” Really, she had to set
aside thoughts of the attack before fear rendered her useless as a prophet. No doubt just as the Chacens intended.

“Huh. Those reprobates! The Chacen boys are married, yet they’re seducing girls and leading them into Atean shrines. Forgive me for being blunt, Ela, but it’s true. And evidently you’re their next victim. Why there’s no outcry about their shameless behavior, I don’t know. It seems you need a chaperone.”

Chaperone? The question Ela wanted to ask about the shrines was choked off by Prill’s observation. Infinite?
She’s
my new chaperone?

Behave.

“I’m trying,” Ela muttered.

“Trying what?” the matron demanded.

“Nothing.” While resigning herself to the situation, Ela felt obliged to warn the woman. “If you’re seen with me, you’ll become a target.”

“I’m already a target.” Amusement lightened Prill’s words and her face, making her look more like a girl than a stern childless widow. “Do you think I’m so easily scared? Your parents and I have gathered enemies for speaking out against that so-called goddess Atea’s shrines.”

“I’ve heard. The Infinite sees your faithfulness, and He will bless you.”

“I felt it was nothing but my duty.” They turned a corner and trekked toward the temple’s vast public courtyard. Prill said, “I must be honest. When you became prophet, Ela, I felt as if the Infinite had slapped me. Who would ever think that the Roehs’ sassy, irritating little girl would be called by the Infinite? But you
have
become His prophet, and Parne needs you.”

“Hmm.” All right. That was a compliment. If Kien were here, he’d be laughing. Kien . . . Ela smiled. Perhaps enduring Prill wouldn’t be awful as she’d imagined. And didn’t her chaperone’s honest observation deserve a truthful response? “Matron, when I was a little girl, I didn’t understand you. I thought you were mean, interfering, and always tattling on me to my parents.”

Matron Prill halted in her tracks and stared at Ela, obviously shocked. “Well . . .”

Ela hugged the woman as a peace offering, then nudged her onward. “Thank you. I understand now. Are you certain you want to be caught in my company?”

Prill took two stammering tries to respond. “Oh . . . well . . . of course. You do need a chaperone, and your parents are mightily overwhelmed with that new baby and your father’s failing business. Besides, I’m convinced the Infinite sent me.”

“You’re right. He did.” Meaning every word, Ela said, “I appreciate your kindness.”

Her new chaperone’s chin quivered as if she were about to cry. Ela linked arms with her. “Let’s pray for courage. You know . . .” Ela studied Prill again. “You don’t look as old as I remember. And nowhere near as . . . er . . . mean. Actually, you’re quite sweet and kind.”

The woman sniffled and worked up an ineffective scowl. “Nonsense. Obviously, you’re the one who’s aged, Ela Roeh. Though you’re sassy as ever.”

“I suppose I can’t argue.” As they entered the temple’s courtyard, the branch glittered in Ela’s hand. Her hand that ought to be broken. Or at least badly bruised and scraped. She’d been healed, and she hadn’t noticed. Infinite, You are amazing! Why . . . ?

Beside Ela, Prill interrupted her thoughts. “What’s about to happen?”

“Um.” Ela blinked and looked away from her hand, pulling together her wits. “I suppose I’m about to become the least popular person in Parne.”

“You are taking my role,” her elder complained.

“You’re not sorry, are you?”

“I suppose it’s nice to have company.” Prill pinched Ela’s sleeve in the traditional Parnian-chaperone bid for attention. “Where are we going?”

“To the temple’s door.”

“And what, pray tell, are you about to do?”

Despite her distress, Ela smiled. A gentle current of words slipped through her mind, conveying some of Prill’s past thoughts concerning the temple. “I’m about to do what you’ve longed to do for years.”

In Ela’s healed hand, the branch blazed, fueled by the Infinite’s righteous wrath.

Her heartbeat quickening, Ela called to the growing crowd, “Why are you here? Do you believe the Infinite wants your sacrifices after you’ve bowed before the altars of Atea? After you’ve offered your bodies and hearts to a nonexistent goddess?”

While some of the worshipers seemed indifferent, or merely curious, more than a few gave her scornful looks, as if to say,
Fool, what do you know?

“Hypocrites! Liars!” Ela returned their scowls. “You’re saying to yourselves, ‘We’re Parnians. We can worship as we please! We’re safe because we obey our traditions.’ But you’re wrong! Do you think your Creator hasn’t seen what you’re doing? Or that He hasn’t noticed the stains on your souls?”

Priests paraded down the temple’s steps now, white-robed, their lips tight with irritation at her for delaying their work. Ela included them in a cold, sweeping gaze. “Do you believe the Infinite approves your offenses? By His own righteousness, He cannot! Parne has not obeyed its Creator or responded to correction. Truth has perished here. And Parne has been judged.”

She had the crowd’s attention. But not its support. How could they be so blind? Fresh tears threatened to fall. “Your ancestors wouldn’t listen to the prophet Eshtmoh when he warned Parne of these offenses—just as you won’t listen to me, but I’m warning you again! The Infinite has abandoned you! Belaal is assembling its army to invade Parne’s lands, and other tribes will join Belaal before Parne’s walls. Parne is about to be conquered. And those of you who stand by idly, thinking none of this matters—you’re wrong! Your indifference has ensured Parne’s death.”

Numerous would-be worshipers laughed and shook their heads. Ela unknotted her white linen sash and then lifted it above the crowd. “You don’t believe what I’ve told you! You think your souls are as pure as this linen. But you’re lying to yourselves! Soon you’ll see this belt is unfit for use, as you are unfit for your Creator.”

The instant she’d spoken against their traditions, Ela felt loathing rise from the crowd and dash toward her like a wave rushing at a coastal shore. She gripped the pristine linen. “The next time you see this cloth, you will see your souls as the Infinite sees them! You’ve defiled yourselves and your temple by abandoning the Infinite. Therefore, He has abandoned you!”