Stone of Tears (40 page)

He gave her a one sided smile. “Sure we can. I’ll teach you. The worst thing that can happen without a bit is that he can run away with you, and you will have a time of stopping him, but sooner or later, you will be able to. Your way, you and the horse could be hurt, or killed.”

He turned and scratched Bonnie’s neck. “First thing you have to do is make friends with them. They have to trust you not to hurt them, or let anything happen to them, though you are in charge. If you are their best friend, they won’t let anything happen to you. They will do what you ask.

“It’s surprisingly easy; all you have to do is show them a little respect and kindness along with a firm hand. If they are going to be your friend, they need names, to get their attention, and so they know when you are talking to them.”

He scratched a little harder, the horse leaning into it. “Isn’t that right Bonnie? You’re a good girl aren’t you? Sure you are.” He looked over his shoulder at the Sister. “Jessup likes it when you scratch under his chin. Give it a try, show him you want to be friends.” He gave her a humorless grin. “Like it or not, Sister, we don’t have the bits anymore. You need to learn a new way.”

Sister Verna gave him a cold look. At last she unfolded her arms and went over to the chestnut gelding. She stood in front of him a moment and then reached out and stroked the side of his head, finally moving her hand under his jaw to give him a scratch. “There’s a good boy,” she said in a flat tone.

“You may think horses are dumb, Sister Verna, because they don’t understand most of your words, but they understand tone of voice. If you want him to believe you, you had better at least pretend you are sincere.”

She moved her hand up and rubbed his neck. “You are a dumb beast,” she said in a syrupy sweet voice. “Happy?” she snapped over her shoulder.

“As long as you’re nice to him. You need to gain his trust. Horses aren’t as dumb as you think. Look at the way he’s standing; he doesn’t trust you. From now on, I’m assigning you to Jessup. You will tend to all his needs. He must come to depend on you, to trust you. I will take care of Bonnie and Geraldine. You will be the only one to groom Jessup, and you will do it after he is ridden, and before he is ridden the next morning.”

“Me! Most certainly not! I am in charge. You are quite capable of grooming all three, and will do so.”

“This has nothing to do with who’s in charge. Among other things, grooming helps build a bond between you and the horse. I already told you: the bits are gone, you need to learn a new way. I need to teach you how, for your own safety.” He handed her a set of reins. “Tighten up the halter and attach these to this ring, here.”

While she was doing it, he cut up the leftover melon rind into small pieces. “Talk to him. Call him by name, and let him know you like him. It doesn’t matter what you say, you can describe what you are doing if you want, but make it sound like he’s important to you. If you have to, pretend; treat him like he’s one of your little boys.”

She glared over her shoulder at him, then turned back to hooking up the reins. She started talking, softly, so Richard couldn’t hear her, but he could tell it was gentle. When she finished, he handed her some of the pieces of melon rind.

“Horses love this. Give him a piece, tell him what a good boy he is. The idea is to change his feelings about having the reins on. Let him know it’s going to be pleasant, instead of that bit he hates.”

“Pleasant,” she repeated in a flat tone.

“Sure. You don’t need to show him how much you can hurt him to make him do as you wish. That’s counterproductive. Just be firm but gentle. The idea is to try to win him over with kindness and understanding, even if it isn’t sincere, and not by using force.”

Richard’s smile vanished, and he let his features slide into a glare. He leaned closer to her as she stood looking up at him. “You should be able to do that, Sister Verna; you seem pretty good at it. Just treat him like you treat me.”

Her stunned expression hardened. “I swore on my life to bring you back to the Palace of the Prophets. When they see you at last, I fear I may be hung for doing my duty.”

She turned and gave the melon rind to the eager horse, stroking his neck and encouraging him with motherly pats. “There’s a good fellow. Good boy. You like that, Jessup? Good boy.”

Her voice was heavy with compassion and tenderness. The horse liked it. Richard knew it lacked sincerity. He didn’t trust her, and wanted her to know it. He didn’t appreciate people thinking they were so easily fooling him. He wondered if her attitude toward him would change, now that he had let her know he hadn’t swallowed her act.

Kahlan had told him that Sister Verna was a sorceress. He had no idea what she was capable of, but he had felt the web she had thrown around him in the spirit house. He had seen the fire she started with a thought. She could have easily started a fire the night before, without telling him to do it. He had the strong feeling she could break him in half with her Han, if she so chose.

She was just trying to train him; get him accustomed to doing as she said, without thinking. Just like training a horse. Or a “beast”, as she had called it. He doubted she had any more respect for him than she did for her horses.

But instead of using a spade bit to control him, she had the Rada’Han around his neck, and that was much worse. But he would have it off, when the time came. Even if Kahlan didn’t want him and had sent him away, he would have it off.

While Sister Verna was making friends with Jessup, Richard started saddling the horses. “How far to the Palace of the Prophets?”

“It is a long way to the southeast. A long and difficult way.”

“Well, then we will have plenty of time to teach you how to handle Jessup without a bit. You won’t have as hard a time as you think. He will defer to and follow Bonnie. Bonnie is the dominant horse.”

“The male is dominant.”

Richard lifted the saddle up onto Bonnie. “A mare is always at the top off the hierarchy. Dams teach and protect the foals; their influence lasts a lifetime. There isn’t a stallion a mare can’t intimidate and chase away. Mares can run off any unwanted stallion. A stallion may drive a predator away from the herd, but a mare will chase it and try to kill it. A male horse will always defer to the authority of the lead mare. Bonnie is the lead mare. Jessup and Geraldine will follow her and do as she does, so I’ll take the lead. Just follow me, and you won’t have any trouble.”

She swung herself up into the saddle. “The beam in the central hall. It’s the highest. Everyone will be able to see it.”

“What are you talking about?”

She gave him a solemn look. “The beam in the central hall. That is where they will probably hang me from.”

Richard swung up into his saddle. “It’s your choice, Sister. You don’t have to take me there.”

She sighed. “Yes, I do.” She gave him her most gentle and concerned look. He thought it quite convincing, if a little strained. “Richard, I only wish to help you. I want to be your friend. I think you need a friend right now. Very much.”

Richard bristled. “That is a kind offer, Sister Verna. But I decline. You seem a little too quick to put that knife you keep up your sleeve in the back of your friends. Did it bother you at all, Sister Verna, to steal the life from Sister Elizabeth, a friend and companion? It didn’t seem so. I decline to offer you my friendship, Sister. Or my back.

“If you are sincere in your wish to be my friend, then I would advise you to truly commit to it before I call upon you to prove it. When the time comes, you are only going to get one chance. There are no shades of gray in this matter. Only friends and enemies. Friends don’t keep a friend in a collar, and hold them prisoner. I intend to have this collar off. When I decide it is time, any friend will help me. Those who try to stop me won’t be my friends; they will be dead enemies.”

Sister Verna shook her head and urged Jessup in behind him as he started away. “The beam in the central hall. I am sure of it.”

The sound of her heart pounded in her ears. Struggling to control her panicked breathing, she ducked behind the fat trunk of an old pine, pressing up against the rough bark. If the Sisters had discovered she was following them …

The dark, damp air filled her lungs in ragged pulls. Her lips moved soundlessly with prayers to the Creator beseeching protection. With eyes as big as gold pieces, she stared into the darkness and swallowed, trying to wet her throat.

The dark form glided silently closer. She could just see it as she peeked out past the edge of the tree. She suppressed the urge to scream, to run, and prepared herself to fight. She reached for the sweet light; she embraced her Han.

The shadow slipped closer, hesitating, searching. One more step, just one more, and she would spring. She would have to do it right—make sure there was no chance to raise an alarm. It had to be fast, and it would take different kinds of webs, all thrown at once, but if she could be precise and quick, there would be no chance of a scream, no alarm, and she would know for sure who it was. She held her breath.

The dark shape finally took another step. Spinning out from behind the tree, she threw the webs. Cords of air, strong as dock line, whipped around the form. As the mouth came open, she jammed a solid knot of air into it, gagging it, before it had a chance to cry out.

She slumped a little with relief when no sound came forth, but her heart still raced nearly out of control as she gasped for air. With an effort, she managed to bring calm back to her mind, although she maintained a firm grip on her Han, fearful to let her caution slip; there could be others about. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to the immobilized shape. When she was close enough to feel its breath on her face, she extended her palm up, and in its center released a thread of fire, to light a tiny flame, just enough to see the face.

“Jedidiah!” she whispered. She pressed her hand to the back of his neck, her fingers feeling the smooth, cool metal of the Rada’Han, and leaned her forehead against his as she closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Oh, Jedidiah. You gave me a such a fright.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at his terrified face, lit by the tiny, flickering flame. “I will release you,” she whispered softly, “but you must be very quiet. Promise?”

He nodded, as best he could, considering how tightly she had him bound. She slipped off the webs, pulling out the gag of air. Jedidiah sagged with relief.

“Sister Margaret,” he whispered in a shaky voice, “you very nearly made me soil myself.”

She laughed soundlessly. “I’m sorry, Jedidiah, but you very nearly did the same to me.”

She snipped the thin thread of Han fueling the small flame and they both sank to the ground, leaning against one another, recovering from the fright. Jedidiah, several years younger, was bigger than she, a handsome young man. Painfully handsome, she thought.

She had been assigned to him when he had first come to the Palace and she had been a novice. He had been eager to learn, and had studied hard. He had been a pleasure from the first day. She knew others had been difficult, but not Jedidiah. He had done everything she had asked of him. She had only to ask, and he threw himself into it.

Others thought he was more eager to please her than to please himself in what he did, but none could deny that he was a better student than any other, and was becoming a better wizard, and that was all that mattered. This was one area where the results were what counted, not the method, and she had quickly earned her full Sisterhood for the way she had brought him along.

Jedidiah had been more proud of her than she had been of herself when she had been named a Sister of the Light. She was proud of him, too; he was probably the most powerful wizard the Palace had seen in a thousand years.

“Margaret,” he whispered, “what are you doing out here?”

“Sister Margaret,” she corrected.

“No one is around.” He kissed her ear.

“Stop that,” she scolded. The tingle from the kiss ran all the way down her spine; he had added a wisp of magic to the kiss. Sometimes she wished she wouldn’t have taught him that. But other times, she ached to have him do it. “Jedidiah, what are you doing here? You have no business following me, following a Sister, out of the Palace.”

“You’re up to something, I know you are, and don’t you try to tell me you’re not. Something dangerous. At first, I was only a little concerned, but when I realized you were headed out into the Hagen Woods, I became frightened for you. I’m not going to let you go wondering into a dangerous place like this. Not by yourself anyway. Not without going along to protect you.”

“Protect me!” she whispered harshly. “Might I remind you of what just happened? You were helpless in a heartbeat. You weren’t able to fight off even a single one of my webs. You weren’t able to break one of them. You are hardly able to touch your Han, much less use it effectively. You have a lot to learn before you are wizard enough to go around protecting anyone. It’s all you can do at this point to keep from stepping on your own feet!”

The rebuke silenced him. She didn’t like to reprimand him so harshly, but this was far too dangerous for him to be involved in, if what she suspected were true. She feared for him, and didn’t want him hurt.

The things she had said weren’t entirely true, either. He was already more powerful than any Sister, when he could bring everything together properly, even though that wasn’t often. Already, there were Sisters who were afraid to push him too far. She could feel him look away.

“I’m sorry, Margaret,” he whispered. “I was afraid for you.”

Her heart ached at the hurt in his voice. She kept her head close to his so they could speak in soft whispers. “I know you are, Jedidiah, and I appreciate your concern, I really do. But this is Sister business.”

“Margaret, the Hagen Woods are a dangerous place. There are things in here that could kill you. I don’t want you in here.”

The Hagen Woods were indeed dangerous. They had been for thousands of years, and had been left that way by decree of the Palace. As if they could do anything about it.

It was said the Hagen Woods were a training ground for a very special kind of wizard. That kind of wizard was not sent them, but went in by choice. Because he wanted to. Craved to … needed to.

But that was only what was said. She knew of no wizard going off to spend time in the Hagen Woods, at least not for the last few thousand years. If it were true any ever did. The tales said that in ancient times there were wizards of that kind, with that much power, and that they went into the Hagen Woods. Few ever came out, it was also said. But there were rules, even to this place.

“The sun didn’t set while I was here. I came after dark. If you don’t let the sun set on you in the Hagen Woods, you can leave, and I don’t intend to stay long enough for the next sun to set on me. It is safe enough. For me, anyway. I want you to go home. Right now.”

“What’s so important that you would go in here? What are you doing? I expect an answer, Margaret. A truthful answer. I won’t be put off. There is danger for you in this and I won’t be put off.”

She fingered the finely worked gold flower she kept on a chain around her neck. Jedidiah had made it for her himself, not with magic, but with his own hands. It was a morning glory, meant to represent his awakening awareness of the gift, an awareness she had helped to blossom. That little gold flower meant more to her than anything else she had.

She took up his hand and leaned against him. “All right, Jedidiah, I will tell you. But I can’t tell you all of it. It’s too dangerous for you to know everything.”

“What’s too dangerous? What can’t you tell me?”

“Be quiet and listen, or I will send you back right now. And you know I can do it.”

His other hand went to the collar. “Margaret, you wouldn’t do that. Tell me you wouldn’t do that, not since we have been …”

“Hush!” He fell silent. She waited a moment to be certain he was going to stay hushed before she went on. “I have suspected for a time that some of the ones with the gift who have gone away, or died, have not done so as it has been put to us. I think they have been murdered.”

“What!”

“Keep your voice down!” she whispered angrily. “Do you want to get us killed, too?” He fell silent once more. “I think something awful is going on in the Palace of the Prophets. I think some of the Sisters murdered them.”

He stared at her in the darkness. “Murdered? By Sisters? Margaret, you must be crazy to even suggest such a thing.”

“Well I’m not. But everyone would think I was if I were to say such a thing aloud inside the Palace walls. I have to figure out a way to prove it.”

He thought a moment. “Well, I know you better than anyone, and if you say it’s true, then I believe you. I’ll help. Maybe we could dig up the bodies, find something to go against what was said about their deaths, find somebody who saw something. We could carefully question the staff. There are ones I know who …”

“Jedidiah, that’s not the worst of it.”

“What could be worse?”

She held the gold flower in the crook of a finger and rubbed her thumb against it. Her voice came even lower than before. “There are Sisters of the Dark in the Palace.”

Even without being able to see him in the darkness, she knew bumps were running up his arms. The night bugs chirped around them as she watched the dark shape of his face. “Margaret … Sisters of the … that can’t be. There is no such thing. That is only a myth … a fable.”

“It is no myth. There are Sisters of the Dark in the Palace.”

“Margaret, please don’t keep saying that. You could be put to death for making an accusation like that. If you accuse a Sister of that, and can’t prove it, you would be put to death. And you can’t prove it because it isn’t possible. There is no such thing as a Sister of the …”

He couldn’t even say the words. The thought of it frightened him so much, he couldn’t even say it out loud. She knew his fear. She had felt it herself until she had happened on things she could no longer ignore. She wished she hadn’t gone to see the Prophet that night, or at least not listened to him.

The Prelate had been angry that Margaret wouldn’t give the Prophet’s message to one of her aides. When she had finally granted an audience, the Prelate had only stared blankly at her and asked what the “Pebble in the pond” was. Margaret didn’t know. The Prelate had lectured her sternly for bothering her with Nathan’s nonsense. Margaret had been furious at Nathan when he had denied remembering giving any such message for the Prelate.

“I wish it was as you say, but it is not. They are real. They are among us. They are in the Palace.” She watched the dark shadow of him a moment. “That is why I am out here. To get the proof.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“They are out here. I followed them. They come out into the Hagen Woods to do something. I am going to find out what.”

His head turned about, searching the darkness. “Who? Which Sisters? Do you know which ones?”

“I know. Some of them anyway.”

“Which ones are they?”

“Jedidiah, I can’t tell you. If you knew, and you made even the slightest mistake … You would not be able to defend yourself. If I am right and they really are Sisters of the Dark, they would kill you for knowing. I can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. I won’t tell you until I go to the Prelate’s office with the proof.”

“How do you know they are Sisters of the … And what proof have you? What proof could you get?”

She searched the darkness for any sign of danger. “One of the Sisters has something. A thing of magic. A thing of dark magic. I saw it in her office. It’s a little statue. I noticed it one time because she has a number of things, old things everyone thinks are just ancient curiosities. I had seen it before, and like all the rest of the things, it was covered with dust.

“But this one time, after one of the boys died, I went to her office to talk to her about it, about her report. That little statue was tucked back in a corner, with a book leaning against it, hiding it, and it wasn’t covered with dust. It was clean.”

“That’s it! This Sister dusted a statue, and you think …”

“No. No one knows what that statue is. After I saw she had dusted it, I had reason to question what it was. I had to be careful, not let anyone know what I was up to, but I finally found out what it is.”

“How? How did you find out?”

She remembered her visit to Nathan, and her vow never to reveal how she had learned what that statue was. “Never you mind. That is not for you to know.”

“Margaret, how could you …”

She cut him off. “I said I’m not telling you. And it isn’t important anyway. What is important is what the statue is, not how I found out about it. It’s a man holding up a crystal. The crystal is quillion.”

“What’s quillion?”

“It’s an exceedingly rare magic crystal. It has the power to bleed the magic from a wizard.”

The surprise of that left him speechless for a moment. “How do you know it’s quillion, if it’s so rare? How would you be able to recognize it? Maybe it is just some other crystal that looks similar.”