Judge (14 page)

A man stepped forward from the crowd, his dark brown eyes and majestic stance mocking Ela before he spoke. She recognized Zade Chacen, Parne’s former chief priest, whom she’d ousted on the Infinite’s orders. Chacen sneered. “
You
are a child. A mistaken child!”

Murmurs of approval greeted his sentiment. Ela studied Chacen and heard his thoughts plotting her downfall. Infinite, how could this man have been Parne’s spiritual leader?

Emotions caught hold of Ela’s soul, painful enough to make her wince. She fought down the urge to wail and tear her hair like a mourner preparing to seal off one of Parne’s tomb houses.

“Chacen, you traitor! The Infinite asks you, and all those who follow your faithless ways, why have you angered Him by yielding to your desires and chasing after idols that don’t exist? Do you think those little non-gods like Atea can help you?”

Zade Chacen laughed, gesturing broadly, as if to take in the crowd around him as kindred. “Do I look like someone who needs help? Do any of us need your help, little girl?”

Ela swallowed the lump forming in her throat and forced herself to speak past the pain. “You—all of you—believe you’re strong. Whole. And healthy. But I see ashes where there was living flesh. I hear wailing from a distant land. And an outcry from heaven as your Creator mourns for His people, who refuse to be healed!”

She was crying again. So undignified. Weak! How could the Infinite have chosen her as His prophet? She was useless! Composing herself, she stared Chacen in the eyes. “Do you remember my first prophecy, Zade Chacen?”

He stared, maliciously unforgiving and silent.

Matching her fierceness to his, Ela said, “You believe it won’t happen. You’ve told yourself that I’m a false prophet. But the Infinite hasn’t forgotten. ‘As a sign to you, your sons will die on the same day, during a terrible calamity.’ That day is near, Chacen!”

The deposed chief priest climbed the steps. “We’ll see, won’t we, girl? Now step aside! The priests are waiting, and you have delayed Parne from fulfilling its duties.”

To Chacen, and everyone, Ela cried, “Yes, enter the temple! Burn your sacrifices! But the Infinite won’t attend your dead rituals. Instead, this temple will burn with this cursed city!”

Clutching the spotless sash, Ela descended the temple’s steps. Beautiful white stone steps, leading false devotees to futile worship.

The priests marched past, some avoiding her gaze, others barely concealing their smirks.

A voice beside her hissed, “Stupid things! Fools!” Matron Prill wrapped a thin arm around Ela as if she could protect her from the crowd’s animosity.

A young woman wearing an elaborate silver cuff, etched with the goddess Atea’s serpentine coils, shoved Ela. Others added jabs and taunts as Ela wove a path through the temple’s public courtyard. A young man, his hands clenched into fists, stepped in their way and didn’t move. Ela looked up at him.

Sius Chacen. With a stark black slash seared like a brand into his right cheek. Around the black gash, the skin was puffed, blistered, and painfully crimson. His dark eyes glittering with hatred, he said, “We’ve decided how you will be repaid. Prophet.”

“Young man, you are a disgrace.” Prill sniffed.

Sius heard and muttered, “You’re next, woman.”

“Hmph!” The matron tugged Ela’s sleeve. “Come along, Ela. Let’s leave this trash on the pavings, shall we?”

Ela felt Sius watching her as they departed the temple’s vast courtyard.

Infinite? Why couldn’t I have been warned about Chacen’s sons plotting with Amar?

What were you doing when Amar snatched you?

Running along the high path to the temple. And praying.

Praying for whom?

For the people of Parne to . . . Her thought faded as she sensed her Creator’s response.

Do not pray for those faithless ones! Don’t intercede for them, because I will not listen to you!

Ela’s steps faltered. How could she cope with the Parnians if she couldn’t pray for them? At least praying had given her some hope that Parne’s situation might change. But now the hope was gone. Undoubtedly the Infinite knew her prayers were useless—wasting her strength. Now it seemed she must pray for the faithful alone. And yet . . . and yet . . . even Zade Chacen’s soul—

“Watch where you’re going,” the matron scolded. “My, my, but you’re distracted.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Giving herself an inward shake, Ela abandoned despairing thoughts of Parne’s lost souls and focused on the homeward path—a different trek from her usual one. All the better. Amar would have to guess at her whereabouts from now on. But how could she completely avoid him? Or the Chacens? Reprobates! What were they planning now?

In despair, she sorted through possibilities until they descended into the small public square that fronted the Roeh home.

Father was waiting for Ela in the doorway. He met her gaze and crossed his arms. Not good. Behind him, Jon Thel stepped out of the house, one hand readied to draw his sword. Oh, a bad sign!

“Mercy,” Prill murmured. “Your father looks
furious.
What do you suppose has upset him?”

 15 

D
an Roeh’s gaze remained steadfast, fixed on Ela as if trying to wrest every thought from her mind. “What happened?”

“I . . .” Ela hesitated. How much should she say? Infinite, help! “I was going to ask you the same question. Why are you two waiting outside? What’s wrong?” How could they know she’d been in trouble?

Jon seemed ready to lead a skirmish. “You tell us. Scythe went wild and tried to hammer down the city’s gate. Were you hurt?”

Ela gulped. “Um, I’m fine now. Is Scythe all right?” Poor Pet! She’d forgotten about her destroyer’s protective instincts.

“Yes,” Jon grumbled. “He’s settled down now. But I had to bribe the watchman to let us in to check on you.”

“Us?” Heart sinking, Ela asked, “Did you bring Scythe?”

“I left him with Savage and Audacity. Beka insisted on coming with me.”

Matron Prill’s thin face reflected disapproval. “Who are Scythe, Savage, and Audacity? Are these some rough companions you’ve gathered, Ela?”

“Rough?” Ela smiled weakly, remembering the destroyers’ irritable faces. “Yes, very.”

Father cut the conversation short. “What happened? Did you provoke a riot at the temple?”

“No. Those Atea-lovers wouldn’t listen to me. But before
that—” Ela fought a sudden fit of nerves. “The Chacens threatened me.”

“As did Amar,” Matron Prill added. “Dan, he’s become incorrigible.”

Father’s brown eyes widened. “Did he dare to touch you?”

“Yes.” Before Father could go storming off to beat Amar and add to the Roehs’ difficulties, Ela added, “But I’m fine, Father, really. And thanks to the Infinite, I left Amar and the Chacen brothers with scars.”

“Oh!” Prill clasped her hands together. “
You
branded Sius Chacen’s cheek? Ela, that’s perfect! I wondered what happened to him. Now, Dan Roeh, trust me, you needn’t bash those miscreants further. Their marks are set for terrible infections, I’m sure.”

Jon laughed, his militant stance easing. “I should have known! Ela, you
branded
them?”

“The Infinite did. I’m glad you’re amused.” Ela touched Dan Roeh’s arm, the white sash fluttering between them. “Father, I know you’re worried, but the Infinite will deal with Amar. Furthermore, Matron Prill has agreed to accompany me everywhere.”

“Good,” Dan said. “And if Prill is unable to accompany you in Parne, you
wait
for your mother or for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father. Unless the Infinite wills otherwise.” And neither her parents nor Prill were as strict with her as the Infinite, the Ordainer of parenthood.

Beka appeared in the doorway now, holding Jess. Naturally. She swept Ela with a head-to-toes glance. “You’re safe? Ela, the way Scythe reacted, we thought you’d been knifed.”

“Not yet.” Remembering Zade Chacen’s hatred, her breath snagged in her throat. She mustn’t think about future attacks or she’d be incapacitated by terror. Think of something else. Think of others. “Beka, I know you want to stay to keep guard over me, but you must leave Parne soon.” She glanced at Jon, adding, “When you go, please take Scythe. He can’t protect me
and neither can you. I don’t want to see any of you hurt for my sake.”

“We’ll leave when we’re ready,” Jon said, an edge to his smile now. “In twelve days.”

“Will your supplies last that long?”

“We’re being frugal.” Beka lifted her chin in something approaching smugness. “I’m an excellent household manager when I want to be.”

Jon nodded, his gaze now on Jess. “In twelve days, we’ll buy our supplies for the journey to Istgard. Once we’ve arrived there, if need be, I could arrange a loan.” He lifted Jess from Beka’s arms. “May I?”

“No!” Beka pouted.

Jess beamed at them, a toothless baby smile that wrung Ela’s heart.

Twelve days until Jon and Beka departed. Thirteen days until Belaal.

Infinite, she implored silently, protect those who love You!

A waiting calm enfolded her.

Despite Father and Matron Prill’s sharp-eyed stares.

As Matron Prill stood guard, shielding her from the gazes of passersby, Ela tucked the white sash into a crevice at the base of one of Parne’s public wells, wedged mud against it, then dusted it with sand to cover her fingermarks. Good enough.

Ela stood, rubbed her grimy hands together, then retrieved the branch from its resting place, set against the well’s carved-stone sides. “Now we wait.”

Obviously less than pleased, Prill waved her handbasket at Ela and whispered, “Did you really bury that lovely fabric there? Ela! What will your mother say?”

Keeping her voice low, Ela leaned toward her fussing chaperone. “What can she say? I’m obeying the Infinite’s command. Mother would do the same in my place.”

“It makes no sense.”

“It’ll be a sign to Parne,” Ela explained. “Everyone saw me wearing it at the temple.”

Prill exhaled a gusty disapproving breath. “Well. If the Infinite commanded it, then I suppose it must be endured. What now?” Lips primmed, the matron asked, “Will we be safe walking through the marketplace? I need some spices and dried fruit, and you’d best tell me now if we’re going to be chased off before I can buy my food.”

Go,
the Infinite prompted.

To the marketplace again? Ela nodded to Prill. “Yes, I suppose I’ve reason to go.”

As they entered the bustling public square, Ela looked for Amar and the Chacens. Where were they? Not that it mattered, Ela realized. She apparently had enough enemies in the marketplace to keep her on alert as Prill bargained for her modest pinches of spices and handfuls of fruit. Merchants’ scowls met Ela’s approach, and glares followed her as she trailed Prill through the market, perusing the wares. Many of these same merchants had gladly dealt with Ela before she’d become a prophet. This morning, however, they were turning their backs to her.

It seemed that telling the truth was an unofficial crime.

At last one of the spice merchants, Deuel, beckoned Ela. He’d traded with Mother in the past and spoke to her of the Infinite. Now his thick black eyebrows lifted like two crescents, as if he was eager to tell Ela a secret. Curious, she approached. Deuel grinned. “Prophet!”

As Deuel spoke, his face changed, his skin cracking and peeling back in murky layers that dissipated like smoke swept away in a breeze. In that same instant, the light in his eyes blazed, then faded to a normal, mortal gleam. His flesh, too, became normal within a breath. As if a deceiver had passed through him to taunt her. Ela froze. Was Deuel vulnerable to false worship? Infinite?

Look at his hands.

Ela glanced down at the token Deuel seemed prepared to give
her. A clay spice box, engraved with the triple coils of Atea. “Ugh!”

“What’s wrong?” Deuel huffed. “All I wanted was to present you with a little peace offering, but you’re behaving as if it’s rubbish.”

Ela looked from the box to Deuel. Why had she never noticed such signs of faithlessness before? The spiritual adultery in people she’d known her entire life?

Because now you see through eyes aided by My Spirit.

As Ela swallowed, Deuel’s expression shifted to impatience. “Ela,” he scolded, “you’re going to shun my gift? Don’t be so simple! So single-minded! Life is too complicated to be confined to one narrow little set of rules.”

“Is it narrow?” Ela asked, aware of the branch’s inner fire threading to the surface—strengthening her. “I’ve never felt confined.” Her throat hurt. “Deuel, don’t you understand the Infinite’s sorrow? If you’re playing a double-game spiritually, you’re guaranteed to lose!”

“All you’re doing is breaking your own heart and driving yourself mad.”

“Breaking my heart, yes. Madness? No.”

“If that’s what you want to believe. So you won’t take my gift?”

Give him your last tenth-weight for it.

What? Infinite! Those goddess-coils—

Imagery took form within her mind, hushing her. She slid the last bit of silver from her purse, placed it on Deuel’s makeshift counter, and held out her hand. “Thank you, Deuel. But may I offer you some advice?”

“Of course.”

“Reconsider the Infinite. He calls to you. Deny Him and you’ll die within two months, though that’s not His preference. Please.”

The spice merchant’s mouth twisted, but he nodded, as if indulging her foolishness.

Unseen pains of betrayal sliced at her, as if carved into her flesh. She looked around, surveying the marketplace. Spices.
Silver. Some fruits and vegetables. Oil. Wine. Various bags of grains. Meat. When she was a child, this marketplace had seemed so immense. So rich and full of good things. But not now. Had the marketplace shrunk? A prickling sensation crawled over Ela’s arms, making her shiver. She stifled her new fear, unwilling to face it yet.

Measuring her surroundings against the image she’d just seen, Ela strode to the busiest section of the public square. Footsteps sounded just behind her, accompanied by Prill’s breathless voice. “Ela! Goodness, where have you been? What’s wrong?” She glanced at the clay storage box in Ela’s hand. “Oh!
Why
would you carry such a thing?”

“I’m carrying it no farther. Stand back, Matron, please.”

Wary, Prill stepped back, clutching her basket of fruit, grain, and spices. Ela looked around and recognized this place, this instant. Here were the merchants and market-goers she’d seen. And there was the contingent of priests, white-clad and proud, entering the market with Parne’s wealthiest elders, eager to buy. And to be recognized and honored.

Ela raised her voice. “Parnians! This is what your Creator, the Infinite says! ‘Listen! I am going to bring such disaster to this city that everyone who hears of it will shudder!’” All faces turned to her now, gaping. Staring.

Ela continued. “‘You have forsaken Me and given yourselves to gods that Parne’s first citizens never worshiped! You build shrines and burn incense and offer even your children to gods who don’t exist—sacrifices I’ve never commanded of you!’”

Only the priests moved now, drawing near, their faces seeming carved as stone, cold and condemning. Ela lifted her chin at them. “The Infinite says, ‘I will devastate Parne and make it a terror to travelers—an awful joke to foreigners! Your bodies will become carrion for birds and . . . ’” Horror-struck by a final breath of imagery, she added, “‘ . . . those who survive will be so desperate for food that they will gnaw the flesh of the dead!’” Oh, Infinite, no!

You have warned them of the truth.
An unseen nudge prompted her further.
The box.

As commanded, Ela raised the clay goddess-box and smashed it on the marketplace’s stone pavings. Shards of pottery flew toward the priests, who leaped away, shocked. Ela cried, “The Infinite will smash this city, just as this clay container is smashed and can’t be repaired!”

One of the priests nudged a shard with his elaborate shoe and shook his head at Ela. “Tch-tch-tch!”

Her spirit almost failing, Ela turned away from the priests, lifted Prill’s basket from her arms, and swept out of the marketplace. Twelve days until Belaal.

Father. She must speak to Father about her fears.