The Law of Isolation (35 page)

She straightened, putting her weight on her legs. They held her up. She pulled her arm away from Kevessa, swayed a little, and removed the other from Shonika’s shoulders. She looked around, and saw her horse standing, reins dangling, not far away. She limped in that direction, ignoring the pain that shot through her hip.

The horse edged away, but Shonika caught it easily and held its head while Nirel mounted. It was a long way up; she didn’t protest when Kevessa, still fretting under her breath about going for help, gave her a boost.

Once mounted, Nirel felt better. She still hurt all over, but she could think clearly. She watched Shonika stride over to another fallen figure, grab the hilt of her sword where it stuck out of the man’s chest, and brace her foot against his ribs while she extracted it. She wiped it clean on the man’s breeches and sheathed it. Then she mounted her horse and rode to join Nirel and Kevessa, who had also caught her horse and mounted. “Do you still have that map?”

Nirel groped for her belt pouch. “I think it’s here.”

“I know the way.” Kevessa looked down the street to where the horses the two Purifiers had ridden wandered loose. “Should we do something about them?”

Shonika shrugged. “They’ll find their way back to their stables. Of course, then their friends will learn what’s happened. Do you want me to kill them?”

Kevessa shuddered. “No. I’ll be long gone before the Purifiers can send anyone else after me.” With a deep breath, she settled herself more firmly in the saddle. “Come on.” She kicked her horse into a trot, and Shonika and Nirel followed.

The jarring gait sent agony shooting through Nirel’s hip and shoulder and head, but she ground her teeth together and endured. No one else accosted them. They rode through the deserted predawn streets until they emerged from between two buildings into the open space that led down to the shore. Starlight and moonlight glimmered on the water. Clustered along the docks, tall dark masts swayed.

Kevessa slowed her horse to a walk and picked her way down a steep section of road. Close behind, Nirel looked nervously around. They were much more exposed here than they’d been among the closely packed buildings.

As they neared the dock, a man’s form separated itself from a pile of crates and barrels. Nirel’s heart raced until she heard Kevessa’s glad “Father!” and saw her slide from her horse into Gevan’s arms.

“You made it,” he murmured. “Was there any trouble?”

Kevessa swallowed. “Nothing to worry about. I’ll tell you later.”

Gevan frowned and turned to look at Nirel and Shonika. His searching gaze continued past them to the empty road. “I thought there would be more—”

Nirel pushed her horse past Shonika’s. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get anyone else to come.” Her voice was rough with the effort not to let her pain show. “I tried, but my father… But Shonika and I brought her here safely.”

Gevan still looked doubtful, but he nodded graciously enough to her. “Thank you.”

Kevessa twisted away from her father’s embrace. She put one hand on the neck of Nirel’s horse and reached the other up to clasp Nirel’s hand. “Come with us. Father, we can take her with us, can’t we? I’d greatly appreciate having a female companion on the voyage. And she can help you learn more about how the language of Tevenar has changed from that of ancient Marvanna, so you’ll be better prepared to serve as the Matriarch’s ambassador.”

Gevan looked back and forth between the two girls. “I suppose—”

Nirel tried to pull her hand away, but Kevessa refused to release it. “Kevessa, I can’t. You know I can’t go back there. I told you why we had to escape.”

“You could stay aboard the ship. The law of Tevenar couldn’t touch you there, for it remains part of Ramunna, under the rule of the Matriarch.” She dropped her voice low. “You told me about your father, also. If you disobeyed him to help me tonight, I think I know what awaits if you return to him.”

Nirel drew a shuddering breath and looked past Kevessa and Gevan to where Captain Yosiv’s ship bobbed against the dock. It would be so easy to accept Kevessa’s offer. Part of her wanted to. She would enjoy the voyage in Kevessa’s company. She could learn a great deal from Gevan. And she could see her home again. Her stomach twisted with longing for the familiar sights and sounds of home, far from this alien place with its bizarre customs and baffling politics, where she would never truly belong.

But Tevenar wasn’t home either, not any more. Her family’s farm stood empty, unless they’d already given it to some other member of the Farmers’ Guild. She’d be going to Elathir, which was nearly as foreign to her as Ramunna. And the wizards would be there, with their cursed power. They might not throw her back in jail, but she’d be in danger every minute she was near them. They always acted so kind and compassionate, insisting they only wanted what was best for her, but their interference had never done anything but destroy her life.

If Josiah saw her injured like this, he’d want to send his golden light into her body, wiping away her pain and tainting her with contamination that could never be cleansed, dragging her even farther out of favor with the Lord of Justice and the community of the Faithful. Her bruises would be long healed by the time they arrived, but what if something were to happen to her while she was there? They’d never listen to her refusal, never understand that she’d rather die than let their foul magic invade her again.

She thought of Kabos, not angry the way she knew he’d be if she returned to the palace, but the way he’d been in the shrine, eyes bright with devotion, voice rough with the love he couldn’t express any other way. She wanted that love, hungered for it in the deepest places of her heart. If she went with Kevessa, she’d lose it forever. Kabos would never accept her back if she left him now, not even if Elder Semanel and the Faithful did.

The only way she could win back her father’s affection was to return to him. Face whatever punishment he deemed appropriate for her disobedience. Accept it, let it drive the wicked willfulness from her heart. Give herself with renewed commitment to the task of honoring his word as she would that of the Lord of Justice himself. Then, when the storm of his rage had passed, he would put his arms around her, and tell her that he loved her, and she would know it was true.

Nirel pulled her hand away from Kevessa’s. “I can’t,” she repeated. “I have to stay here. Father won’t—I’ll be fine.”

Kevessa studied her, brows drawn together, teeth catching her lower lip. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Nirel looked away, out toward the horizon, anywhere but at Kevessa’s concern. “Um, when you’re there, if you meet a boy named Josiah, he’s a wizard… Tell him I’m sorry. I know he only wanted to help me. But I had to leave. My place is with my father.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks. He’ll understand.”

Josiah would know what Kevessa referred to, but he wouldn’t understand why Nirel had made the choice she had. Right now, Nirel’s thoughts and emotions were such a confused muddle, she wasn’t sure she understood, either. But she knew she had to follow through on it.

She leaned down, though it made her ache all over, and put her arm around Kevessa’s shoulders. She couldn’t expect her friend to understand, either, but maybe she’d at least accept Nirel’s choice. “May your voyage be smooth.”

Kevessa stood on tiptoe and hugged Nirel back. “And may your path also be smooth, wherever it leads you, until we meet again.”

Nirel returned her embrace. After a moment Kevessa released her. Silently Kevessa went to her horse, unfastened her pack from its saddle, and slung it over her shoulder. She handed the reins to Shonika and went to stand by Gevan. “I’m ready, Father.”

He looked back and forth between Kevessa and Nirel with a puzzled frown, but at length he nodded. “Thank you again.” He took Kevessa’s hand and led her toward the plank that stretched from the dock to the deck of the ship.

Nirel watched until they were safely aboard and vanished down a hatch. Then she kneed her horse around and nodded to Shonika.

Shonika didn’t speak, just inclined her head in return and set off toward the palace. They rode in silence through the dark streets. The sky in the east was just beginning to lighten when they returned their horses to the stable. The guards let them enter the palace without comment.

Shonika headed to her room without looking at Nirel. Nirel stopped in the corridor and watched until the door closed behind her. Then she took a deep breath and opened the door of the suite she shared with Kabos.

Her heart jumped when she saw him sitting on the couch in front of the hearth, gazing into the banked ashes. But as he rose and turned to face her, calm settled over her. She shut the door behind her and went to stand before him, bowing her head.

His voice was rough. “Where have you been?”

She kept her voice calm, meek but not pleading, matter-of-fact. “I disobeyed you, Father. I went to Shonika, and the two of us rode out and escorted Kevessa to the dock.”

For a long time he was silent. Finally he said, “I have to punish you.”

“I know, Father.” Nirel sneaked a glance at his face. There was anger there, though not the rage she’d feared. His eyes were cold and bleak. She looked down again and clasped her hands in front of her, staring at them. “I submit myself to you as to the Lord of Justice.”

She heard him swallow. From the corner of her eye she saw him bend and pick up something from the couch. “Bare your back and kneel.”

“Yes, Father.” She stripped off her garments and laid them on the couch. She tried not to look at him, but she couldn’t help but see a thick leather belt dangling from his hand. She knelt on the hard stones of the hearth.

He came to stand behind her. If he noticed the bruises on her hip and shoulder, he gave no sign. Nirel closed her eyes and pressed her lips closed, determined not to let any cry escape that might be heard outside their rooms and draw unwanted interference.

The belt fell across her back in a stripe of flame. Blow after blow struck, until Nirel shrank into a huddle against the stone, pain the only sensation left in her world.

She tried to remember that she’d willingly chosen this. She tried to cling to the knowledge that he was doing this terrible thing to her because he had to, because the Lord of Justice demanded it. She tried to understand that the pain was righteous punishment for her sin, that it would drive out her guilt and leave restored innocence in its wake. She tried to believe that the father who lashed the strap across the bare skin of her back over and over loved her.

She tried to love him. But as the pain continued unrelenting, until her resolve broke and she screamed for him to stop, she couldn’t. As he ignored her pleas and continued to beat her, as droplets of blood flew to spatter the stone around her, just before she blacked out, Nirel knew she hated her father.

Eighteen

M
aster Sivael met Elkan and Josiah at the door of her home, new lines of worry joining the many that seamed her ancient face. “Thank the Mother you’re here. She hasn’t eaten since yesterday. She won’t listen to me. I used all our ration of flour for the week to bake for her, but she still refuses. Please, you’ve got to make her eat at least a little. Otherwise…” The old woman turned away, blinking.

Elkan took Sivael’s hands in his. “I’ll do what I can. But maybe it’s time. You know it can’t be much longer.”

Sivael swallowed and swiped at her eyes. “I know. I just didn’t think… It’s too soon; I’m not ready…”

Josiah put his hand on Sar’s back, taking comfort from the donkey’s warm solid presence. Elkan reached for Tobi’s head and fondled her ears. “I know,” he said. “But we have to trust that all things happen in the Mother’s time. Come. Bring the bread; I’ll see what I can do.”

Josiah trailed after him into the bedroom where Master Malva’s frail form lay tucked into the large bed. She gave Elkan a wan smile as he seated himself on the edge of the bed and took her hands. Josiah backed into a corner, trying to remain unobtrusive. He’d been on several of these sorts of calls with Elkan before, but he still wasn’t used to them. Sar stationed himself beside Josiah, while Tobi settled next to Elkan, her ears alert.

“Good day, wizard,” Malva said, her voice faint and creaky.

“Good day, Master Malva. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I doubt it.” Malva sighed.

“Sivael tells me you haven’t been eating.”

Malva glanced at Sivael, who hovered behind Elkan. “I’m not hungry.”

Elkan’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “She made fresh bread just for you. Let Tobi and me see if we can help your appetite a bit. You need to eat to keep up your strength. If the sores in your mouth are bothering you again, we can heal them.”

“It’s not that, wizard.” Malva struggled to sit up. Elkan assisted her with an arm around her shoulders while Sivael tucked pillows behind her. When she was settled, Sivael picked up the soft roll from the bedside table and held it out. Malva glared at her. “I don’t want any.”

Elkan took the roll and broke it in half. Josiah’s mouth watered and his stomach rumbled as the warm yeasty fragrance reached him. The small bowl of thin porridge he’d eaten for breakfast was a distant memory. He’d be lucky if the slice of bread with cheese he got for the midday meal was half as big as what Elkan offered Malva now. “Maybe a little broth or milk would help it go down easier?”

Malva shook her head and looked away. “I don’t need it, wizard,” she whispered. “Save it for the ones who’ll get some benefit from it. Don’t waste it on an old woman who’s going to the Mother soon whether she eats or not.”

Sivael pushed past Elkan to grab Malva by the shoulders. “Don’t say that! There’s plenty.”

Malva rounded on Sivael with a force that Josiah was amazed could come from her wasted body. “I may be dying, Siv, but I’m not blind, or deaf, or stupid. I know how dear bread is in Elathir these days, no matter how you’ve tried to keep it from me. Do you think I want to take food from the mouths of our grandchildren and great-grandchildren? Save that lovely fresh roll for them. Or here, let me have it. I’ll give it to Averon. He’ll enjoy a treat.”