The False Martyr (98 page)

The horse stumbled the
final strides to the lodge and finally collapsed before the door.
It would never run again, but it had done its job and Cary was
grateful. He promised that he would take care of it as soon as he
had spoken to Nyel. Nearly stumbling as his exhausted legs
transitioned to running, he pushed open the door to the lodge and
entered the empty cloakroom. He discarded his satchel, gloves, and
chaps as quickly as he could. Pulled off his boots to save the time
of cleaning them and dashed into the room with the baths. Running
through them, he remembered the sensitivity of Nyel’s nose and
dashed himself with scented oil to cover his overpowering
stink.

A few minutes later, he
was sprinting through the darkened order passages without even the
order keepers’ robes to protect him from a chance encounter. As he
ran, he tried to prepare what he would say to the Morg Mother, how
he would tell her that her whole way of life was at risk, that the
entire world was shifting beneath her feet. Again and again, he
tried to find the words, but they were never right, were never
enough.
You have to try
, he told himself.
You have to make
her see.

Lost in those thoughts, he
allowed his body to take him deep into the lodge, to the very place
where he’d first met Nyel that first morning. He had not previously
considered how he would find her. By rights, she should be leaving
the Thull – was it happening now, was the world crashing down as he
ran, was he too late? Somehow, he knew that wasn’t right, that
there was still time, that his body knew where to find her, that he
need only trust it. That intuition led him to the foot of the
ladder that he had taken that first day. He prepared to climb it
and heard a voice that could only belong to Nyel. Reacting without
thought, not even thinking to look, he unlatched a false section of
wall and stepped into the room on the other side.

It was a bedroom. Slightly
larger and far more densely and finely furnished, it was otherwise
the same as the one where Cary had spoken to Noé, except this room
was occupied by the most powerful woman in the Fells. As soon as
Cary entered, Nyel turned and caught him with a scowl that should
have made him leave without a word. She was standing at the far end
of the room. Juhn was with her. They were otherwise
alone.

Nyel cursed in her
language then switched to Cary’s when she’d had enough time to
realize who had just burst through her door. “What is this?” She
crumpled her nose then brought a hand to it – Cary had not thought
his smell was that bad – she looked at him as if he’d just brought
a platter of dung to a dinner party.

“
I need to speak with you,
Nyel ut Torswauk,” Cary said as formally as he could manage between
pants. “Alone.”

Nyel gasped. Juhn moved
between her and the intruder. “You go too far,” he growled, showing
the first true spirit Cary had seen from him.

“
I . . . I mean no offense
or harm,” Cary stammered. “My lady, you are in great danger. Please
I must speak to you without Juhn. You can have one of your
daughters join us or your sister. Anyone . . . just . . .
.”

“
Shickza,” Nyel cut him
off. “Anything you must say to me, you can say to Juhn. He is order
master here.”

“
He’s going to betray
you,” Cary blurted. It was clear that Nyel was not going to give
him what he wanted so he simply blurted his message in a jumble of
barely connected statements. “The fire left Eselhelt with thousands
of unjoined men. Noé ut Eselhelt is going to use them to draw the
other Mothers from you in the Thull. She will offer them to any
lodge that opposes you. Mehret will join them, and you’ll be alone.
They don’t care about Liandria or the Empire. They want to topple
you. Juhn is part of it. He . . . .” Cary watched Nyel as he spoke,
waiting for the words to resonate, wondering when she would see it,
wondering how much more he would have to say. For a second, she was
stunned. Then she looked at Juhn. Then she started to
laugh.

Never would Cary have
thought that the esteemed Nyel ut Torswauk could laugh like that.
She laughed until tears came to her eyes, until Cary thought she
might fall to the floor, until she was gasping for air. Juhn joined
her, but his joviality was tempered by watchfulness. Cary had
expected Nyel to strike him, to cast him out, to fly into a flurry
of commands that would keep the unspeakable from happening.
Instead, she just laughed.

“
Oh, poor guth,” she said
through fading chuckles. “Do you think I am some girl who has never
seen a challenge to her authority? Do you think I became Mother of
Torswauk without knowing how to remain in this
position?”

“
I . . . I don’t
understand,” Cary stammered. His head was spinning. He was sure he
was correct. How could Nyel not see it?

“
You should have
listened,” Juhn said when Nyel turned away. “I told you everything
was in hand. I told you that Nyel would win the Thull. You would
have saved yourself so much if you had just listened.”

“
So . . . so . . . but I
am sure that they are planning to . . . .”

“
Planned,” Nyel
interrupted. “You are too late and far too foolish. Only a few
hours ago, that poor girl tried exactly what you suggested. But it
was no surprise. My dear sister, Velle ut Mehret, told me a week
ago what my husband and Zhurn were planning. Juhn confirmed it, so
we turned it to our advantage. How do you think Mothers would
respond to men trying to overthrow one of their number, of trying
to place themselves above us? Every Mother came immediately to my
defense the moment that fool yuté girl made her suggestion. She was
crushed, shamed, and cast from the Thull. The very attempt was
enough to unify the Mothers. It was all I needed to ensure that
they would do anything I asked.”

“
By the Order, what will
happen to Noé?” Cary asked though he had no idea how he had managed
the act of speech. He was beyond overwhelmed, was trying to
understand where he’d gone wrong, where he’d
miscalculated.

“
That is up to her husband
and her sisters. But I would not want to be in her place. She is a
disgrace to her lodge. She will be more of an outcast than she was
before that beast Zhurn tried to use her. I honestly had sought to
protect her, had felt sorry for her. Juhn even tried to warn her,
but she would not listen. I can do nothing for her now.”

“
I have to go,” Cary said
and turned to the door.

“
You certainly do,” Nyel
laughed behind him. “And do not ever enter our passages again or it
will be your life.”

“
I must take my leave as
well,” Cary heard Juhn say as he went through the door. He did not
think anything more about it. He had to find Noé. Seducing her was
the last thing on his mind. His only hope now was to find her
alive.

#

Noé was alive, barely.
Cary watched her from the slat to be sure she was alone and
breathing. She laid on the bed, naked. The sheets had been
stripped. Her dress was torn apart, two shreds laying on the floor.
Her face was buried in a pillow, legs pulled up, back bent round.
Welts and bruises lined her back, rear, and thighs, rising red and
purple and angry. Her breaths oscillated between pants and moans.
Her muscles twitched involuntarily. Blood was everywhere. The bed
was streaked with it. The pillow splattered, a pool forming around
her face in the center. But most of all it seeped from between her
legs, spreading across the sheet in a great wet pool.

A second later, Cary was
at her side. “By the Order, what did he do?” He could barely form
the words as he scanned her broken body, as images of his sister
came unbidden to his mind, her tiny body splayed out on a bed much
smaller than this, bruised and battered just the same. Tears came
to his eyes.
How did this happen?
he heard himself say all over again.
How could you let him do this to you?

He loves
me
, he heard Allysa say.
Please don’t tell. Please don’t ruin
it.

“
Leave me,” Noé cried from
the pillow, bringing him back to this moment, to this girl. “It’s
my fault. I failed him. I . . . .”

“
No!” Cary would not hear
it again. He couldn’t. He had run away too often. He had used girls
like Noé too often, had preyed on their insecurities just like the
bastard that beat Allysa. He told himself that he was different
because he was kind to them, because he tried to make them happy
for a night. But he knew that when the sun rose he was gone and
they were still alone, still rejected, still easy pickings for the
next bastard to come along. “We have to do something. We have to
tell someone.”

“
No!” Only the pillow
muffled the sound of her scream. She sobbed into it after, body
shaking.

Cary stood over her, tried
to pull her face to him. “Please, Noé, please let me help you. You
are bleeding. You need help.”

She turned to him, teeth
bared, and pushed him away. The shove was hardly necessary. Her
face was enough to send him reeling. Her eyes were swollen nearly
to shut. What shown through was red instead of white. Her nose was
bent, clearly broken blood seeping from it and splattered across
her face and hair. The same blood marked her teeth and ran from a
split in her bottom lip almost as harsh as the deformity in the
top. Her cheeks were swollen and blue, a ragged cut rising from
one. Her throat was swollen and red, the damage running all the way
around her neck. Cary could not help but imagine Zhurn’s big hands
around that thin neck, squeezing until her eyes rolled up and
closed.

“
Get away from me!” she
yelled. “Leave me alone!”

Cary returned to her. He
would not give up this time, would not run away, would not come
back six months later to stand in a dress uniform as they put her
in the ground. “I’m getting you . . . .”

Noé started screaming,
ear-splitting, blood-curdling, rafter-shaking screams. She brought
her hands to her eyes, looked at the blood covering them and
screamed. They returned to the space between her legs, came back
with more blood, and the screams grew.

The door burst open. Cary,
standing over Noé, hands on her naked shoulders, looked back and
saw Zhurn. His big grey lips twisted into a smile that showed
crooked yellow teeth. Beside him was Juhn. Behind were women. Help
had arrived, but not the kind Cary had hoped for. And Noé
screamed.

“
Guth abadat!” Zhurn
yelled. Cary did not know the word, but he was pretty sure the
crime being named carried a sentence of death. “Abadat! Zehn
clarach!”
Rapist!
Kill him
! Cary guessed. And what
else would they think. He, an outsider, stood over the Mother of a
lodge. She was naked, beaten nearly to death. Her clothes had been
torn from her. He was splattered with blood – from her and the
horse he’d killed. Everything her bastard of a husband had done
would be blamed on him. And they would kill him. He’d be lucky to
live through the day

He looked down at Noé a
last time. She seemed not to even remember that he was there. Her
entire attention was locked on her blood-soaked hands, as she
mumbled words that could only be, “my baby, my baby.”
At least the women will help
her
, Cary thought as he looked at her
battered face.
At least, she will get
help.

Then he was away. He took
three strides from the bed and rolled to the ground. Zhurn’s great
hammer of a fist whistled over his head. The big man had put so
much into the blow that he spun past his diminutive target. Cary
found his feet with more dexterity than he knew he possessed and
slid through the waiting passage before Zhurn had brought himself
back around. The door slid shut behind just in time to be
splintered by the big man’s fist. A barrage of curses followed Cary
as he ran down the dark passage, mind racing, fear building.
What have I done?
he
asked himself over and over.
By the Order,
what have I done?

Chapter 54

The
44
^th
Day of Summer

For all that Jaret had put
the plan into motion, Lius was more than aware of the part he
played in making it possible. And in a few minutes, he would have
to watch it play out. He would have to hear the screaming, see the
brutality, feel the fear, suffer the consequences if it all went
wrong.

Feeling the emotions
creeping into his meditation, Lius identified them, isolated them,
and pushed them away with a long, slow breath just as he’d been
taught in the Hall of Understanding. Emotion obscured the ability
to see the Order, so monks like him, those who dedicated their
lives to learning the Order’s secrets, spent hours each day in deep
meditation, feeling the Order around them and aligning themselves
to It in hope of seeing Its will. Until a month ago, Lius had
thought that epiphany would come through quiet reflection, that it
would involve some new way of helping people understand the Order
and align their lives to It. He had never considered that it would
happen after witnessing the Xi Valati’s murder, while he was
running from creatures out of a nightmare, during a moment of
absolute terror, that it would involve seeing – actually seeing –
the strands of the Order around him and being able to manipulate
those strands. And more than anything, he had not considered what a
horrible burden that insight would be, had never thought that
achieving perfect understanding of the Order would lead to him
doing such terrible, Order-defying things with that
understanding.