White Star (8 page)

Yet she’d seen something in those eyes, something beyond the darkness. She glanced at him again, standing there in chains, Darkness personified.

And yet . . .

Gloriana would pronounce sentence, and he’d be executed. They’d end the ceremony and the real work would begin. She’d return to the business before her, and her healing rounds among the poor. The Archbishop would probably corner her and suggest that her boon be used for the betterment of the Church. She’d—

Save him,
a woman’s voice whispered in her ear.

Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes went wide. Her entire body seemed to vibrate to the sound of that voice, like a bell that had been rung. She glanced around, but no one was near her, and no one else seemed to have heard. All eyes were on the prisoner, listening to the list of charges.

Save him.

The voice was powerful and compelling, and echoed in Evelyn’s mind and heart. She’d never heard that voice, before, but she knew with all her heart who spoke. It could be no other than the Lady of Laughter.

For a heartbeat, she rejected the command. The man was guilty, he had done the things he was charged with . . . the anger of the Queen, the High Barons, the Council . . . the Archbishop . . . oh, especially the Archbishop. If she survived this, she’d be cleaning old, forsaken shrines for years.

There was no reason to do this, no reason to assume that the man could be redeemed, if that was even poss—

Save him.
There was laughter behind the words now, but it was clearly a command. Evelyn shivered. Part of her trembled at what she was about to do.

Part of her remembered hazel eyes, and rejoiced.

As you will, Lady,
Evelyn prayed silently as she moved forward.

Orrin
didn’t see the Priestess until she stood between him and the young Queen.

He’d been listening to the litany of his crimes, some of which he’d done, some of which he hadn’t. Which was which didn’t seem to matter. In for a copper, in for a gold. If there were Gods to be faced, he suspected their list would be more accurate.

But a swirl of white and gold robes brought him back, and he blinked as Evelyn stood there.

The Queen raised a hand, and the Lady Warder went silent. “Lady High Priestess Evelyn? What—”

“I wish to claim my boon, Your Majesty.”

Gloriana’s face filled with confusion. “This could not wait until—”

He watched as the Priestess drew a deep breath and interrupted again. “I claim this man, his horse, and his sword.” Her voice sounded odd as it spilled into the room.

And then he truly heard her words.

A storm erupted in his heart, and his chains rattled as he clenched his fists. The crowd was murmuring, and he could see the anger growing in their faces.

The Priestess stood still as the winds of shock and outrage swirled around her. Orrin could see the Queen’s confusion, the horror on the faces of the High Barons gathered around her. Evelyn stood unmoving, the quiet calm in the center of the storm.

“Lady High Priestess, do not do this.” Orrin kept his voice low, a bare whisper. “I am steeped in blood and death, and you waste your mercy on me.”

She’d heard him. Her head turned ever so slightly, and he saw the barest flash of her blue eyes. But her back straightened, and with a slight shift she once again faced the throne. This time, her voice rang through the silent room. “As my boon, I claim the life of Lord Orrin Blackhart of the Black Hills.”

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“
Lord
no longer, if ever he was.” Gloriana had recovered her wits, and looked grim. “Condemned man, a creature of the darkest evil. Lady High Priestess Evelyn, I would urge you to withdraw your request. This man is a coldhearted killer, and—”

“The High Priestess has gone mad. Or been bewitched by Blackhart.” The Archbishop was turning purple and sputtering in his indignation.

A voice rose from the crowd, and the Lord High Mage Marlon moved forward, his eyes glowing with the light of a spell. “My daughter is not bewitched. Insanity, however, is still a possibility.”

Evelyn held her breath, suddenly afraid of what her father might do. With his powers, her father could kill Blackhart. And she and her father hadn’t agreed on anything since she’d entered the priesthood.

The glow left Marlon’s eyes, and he regarded her calmly, almost with . . . approval? He gave her a slow nod. Evelyn swallowed, and nodded in return before turning her attention back to the throne.

Certainly it seemed a day of miracles.

Gloriana looked confused. Evelyn was fairly sure that she also saw a bit of relief in her brown eyes. It had not been easy for her, knowing that she’d have to condemn a man to execution in the first moments of her reign. “Aunt Evie, are you certain? You have spoken before of starting a place of healing, of wishing for the land and the funds. Will you give up this dream for this man?”

Evelyn smiled at her. “My Queen, all I know is that the Goddess is not done with this man, and that she does not wish him dead. She has a use for him yet.”

The muttering of the crowd grew as the Queen considered the problem. The Archbishop was sputtering and mumbling, bending to whisper in her ear. Evelyn made a mental note to watch the man’s health. She’d already warned him about rich foods and his lack of exercise.

Blackhart was cursing, too, under his breath, and calling Evelyn all kinds of names. She was thankful that the man was still in chains, and that she was out of reach.

A sparkle caught her eye, and Evelyn looked down at the ring on her hand, blazing in the light, its star as bright as she had ever seen. It seemed to offer comfort, and she decided to take it as such, for no human face in the throne room offered any.

After what seemed an eternity, Queen Gloriana held up a hand and the room went silent. “I grant your reward, Lady High Priestess, but I do not pardon this man.” Gloriana focused on the man in chains. “Blackhart, you have your freedom. The nearest border is four days’ hard ride from here. I grant you asylum for that time. After that, if you are found within the borders of this kingdom, I will have you answer for your crimes. Am I heard?”

Evelyn turned her head just enough to see Blackhart nod.

Gloriana’s jaw worked, but she continued. “The border. My men will give you your sword and your horse.” She gestured to the guards. “See to it.”

Bethral moved to stand next to the foremost guard. “Come.” She gave Evelyn a hooded glance, and lowered her voice. “Through the kitchens.”

That was a relief. If they’d released him in front of the crowd, it was certain he wouldn’t make it out alive.

The guards pulled at the chains and Blackhart moved off, giving Evelyn a grim look. . .

“Hold.”

Vembar stood there, leaning on his cane and looked at Blackhart, appraising him. “The Lady High Priestess Evelyn has won your life for you. Would you win a pardon as well?”

There was puzzled reaction from the nobles. Gloriana looked at Vembar, who leaned over and started to whisper in her ear. Gloriana held up a hand, and the noise in the room subsided. Vembar continued to speak, and Gloriana nodded at his words.

Blackhart looked in confusion at Evelyn, who shrugged.

Vembar straightened, and addressed the room. “The lands of the Black Hills are now infested with the foul undead that Elanore created. We’ve driven them into the hills and mountains, but Palins has no men to spare to pursue.” Vembar studied Blackhart’s face. “You know the lands and the people. Cleanse those lands, and the Queen will pardon you.”

Lord Fael of Summerford stepped from the crowd. “This man brought an army filled with undead against my people, killing innocent townsfolk or taking them for his own foul purposes. How can you—”

“Can you guard your borders and start to clear the monsters? Do you even know where to start?” Vembar asked quietly.

Lord Fael paused, considering. He puffed out a breath in frustration. “No. With the losses we’ve had, I’ll be pressed to guard my settlements and farms as it is.”

“We have a land to rebuild,” Vembar said simply. “We cannot waste anything. Including this man’s knowledge.”

“Lord Vembar has the right of it,” Gloriana said. “Further, it seems to us that the people of the Black Hills should not suffer for the crimes of their leaders.” She focused on Blackhart. “Would you do this?”

Blackhart’s eyes narrowed. “What will you supply me with?”

“Nothing,” Gloriana replied firmly. “The Lady High Priestess claims the Lady of Laughter has a use for you. You have your sword and your horse, and I’ve nothing to spare. But cleanse the lands within a year of this date, and you will have a Crown pardon.” The Queen straightened on her throne. “It’s that or banishment. Will you accept this charge?”

“I wish to claim a boon as well, at the end of my task,” Blackhart demanded.

Evelyn’s mouth dropped open at that, as did the mouths of almost the entire Court.

“No,” Gloriana replied.

“Kill me, then.” Blackhart threw his head back. “You can deal with the odium.”

For the first time, Evelyn saw anger flash in Gloriana’s eyes. The young Queen’s face was neutral, but her voice cut through the air. “I—”

Vembar’s soft laugh interrupted. “A pardon
and
a boon?” He shrugged, sharing a look with Gloriana. “What harm, Your Majesty? I am almost certain that he will die in the attempt.”

Gloriana’s eyes and lips narrowed, but she nodded her head in agreement. “I agree. A pardon and a boon. But only if I am assured that the Black Hills have been cleansed of all of the odium. Now, strike his chains and send him on his way.”

The chains clanked as his escort moved Blackhart off to the side and through the doors. Evelyn knew Bethral well enough that the chains would not come off until he was clear of the throne room. She had opened her mouth to ask leave to depart when the Archbishop stepped forward yet again, his face florid and swollen with outrage.

“Lady High Priestess”— the Archbishop’s ponderous tones sounded through the throne room— “you have made a mockery of the justice of the Lord of Light and the Queen’s gratitude.” He gestured off to the side, where two Church honor guards stood. “Return to the church, there to hold yourself ready to answer for your actions this day.”

Well, she’d known that was coming.

Gloriana opened her mouth as if to protest, but Vembar shook his head slightly. She looked at him, then gave a small sigh. “Lady High Priestess, you have our leave to depart.”

Evelyn curtsied, and bowed her head. She hated to see the disappointment in Gloriana’s eyes. She hoped the young Queen would understand. She would try to explain it to her.

As soon as she figured it out herself.

Orrin
stood naked in the rain, numb, chilled, and uncertain why he still breathed.

His sword was in his hand, the blade reflecting the torchlight from the kitchen. His horse stood next to him, without so much as bit or bridle, never mind a saddle.

The guards had struck the chains under Lady Bethral’s watchful eye, and stripped him of his clothing. They left him standing in the empty courtyard, bare of foot on cold cobblestones. So he stood cold and wet, with a split lip and an empty heart.

He was in danger, and well he knew it, but he felt oddly hollow, unable to move. Once the coronation was over, the streets would fill, and many of those people would kill him first and beg pardon after.

Still, numb and chilled, he stood there.

A noise brought his head up, and he saw the Lady High Priestess Evelyn emerge from the castle. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed as she crossed to him and stood there, solemn. “I see the Queen kept to the letter of her word.”

Orrin glared at her. “You threw away your dream for something of little value, Lady High Priestess. Be sure that you’ve thrown away the Queen’s favor as well.”

“Then her favor is cheap, and of little worth.” Evelyn tilted her head as she unclasped her cloak. With a quick movement, she flung the heavy white garment around his shoulders, securing the clasp at his throat. “For I am satisfied with the reward I have received.”

Orrin felt her warmth as the fabric settled on his skin, bringing the faintest scent of incense with it. He looked into her blue eyes, and watched as she reached out and softly touched the corner of his mouth. A brief tingle, and the pain in his lip disappeared.

Evelyn lowered her hand, then looked around. “Now come. Quickly.”

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“
Lady
High Priestess?” Orrin asked, as he wove his hand in his horse’s mane and tugged.

“We need to get you out of here, before anyone sees you.” Evelyn started across the small courtyard. “The Queen may have granted my boon, but until word is spread, there are those who will strike first and listen later. We need to find you some clothes and gear, not to mention some food and . . .” Evelyn flushed. “I should have thought to ask for your gear. Or even better, a full pardon.”

Orrin frowned at her. “Don’t be so greedy.”

Her eyes flew wide, and she laughed softly. “Oh, now I am to be instructed in the virtues by Blackhart, Scourge of Palins. Who is to say that the Lady has no sense of humor?”

The sight of that smile made Orrin’s heart jump in his throat. He fell into step with Evelyn, leading his horse by the mane. “More irony than humor, Lady High Priestess. You’re lucky the Queen didn’t call for both our heads.”

Evelyn nodded, looking unconcerned. “That’s nothing to what the Archbishop will say.”

The rain was a soft mist, and it was starting to cling to her hair and robes, setting them to sparkling in the torchlight. They didn’t need to go far, for it seemed that the church and the castle of Edenrich shared a back alleyway. In one gate, down a cobblestone lane, and then through another gate that swung wide at Evelyn’s knock.

“Evie?” said a deep voice. “I’d thought you’d be at the crowning.”

“Cenwulf,” Evelyn said softly, “I need your help.”

An older man with a limp moved into the light, letting them pass into the courtyard beyond. “Lass, what poor man have you draped your cloak over this time? Let’s be hoping this one doesn’t have fleas.”