The Temple of Heart and Bone (31 page)

“How many?”

“One or two…”

“A week?”

“A day,” he answered blushing.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes—why are you looking at me
like that?” He patted down his straggly hairs and wiped his hands on his face.
“Her family was quite friendly, and they had
the
most wonderful cook!
Oh, my Sasha, what that man could create in his kitchen… sinful, positively
sinful.” He smiled and smacked his lips. Chance smiled back at him.

“So,” he continued, “I was more
than happy to play the messenger and lounge about their home waiting for her
replies. I talked often with her father and even counseled some of their staff
in spiritual matters.

“Anyway, that’s how I got to be
with the family when they came to meet Gathner. I’d been the matchmaker setting
the whole thing up.”

“You do get around, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do,” he admitted,
“but it has its uses. You see, I was standing right beside her father when
Gathner first set eyes on Li.” His face darkened as if a cloud had passed
between him and the candle on the desk.

“The old man looked pristine in
his robes, but his face mottled almost immediately. His eyes widened as if they
had just been opened for the very first time. His brow furrowed, wrinkling his
forehead like slept-in sheets. He brought one hand up to his face as if he were
just shading his eyes from the sun. When the hand fell away, it was as if it
had left a mask in its place. Gathner’s face was as calm as it had been before
he had seen her. Only his eyes held the light of something new.

“He had been totally focused on
the girl in those moments, and I suppose everyone else had been as well.
Gathner wrenched his eyes off of Li and searched everyone else around. I smiled
at him with aplomb to cover the fact that I had watched the whole
transfiguration. He smiled back at me brightly, though I could see a question
in his eyes. I ignored it and turned to smile and wave at Drothspar.”

 “I never told anyone else
about that moment, Sasha. I tried to tell Drothspar once, but he would have
none of it. Think about it, it was as if I had told him his father and his
savior had somehow betrayed him.” Petreus sighed and looked at the half-eaten
pastry on the table. He broke off a piece and ate it quickly.

“Drothspar was always courteous,
but he didn’t have much extra time for me after that. Gathner was suspicious,
too, and did his best to drive the wedge between us deeper. I don’t know how
the old man did it, but he managed to convince Drothspar that he would have to
leave the Order to be with Li.”

“You mean that wasn’t true?”

“You knew about that?” Petreus
looked at her curiously then looked at the bed. His eyebrows rose in wonder.
“No,” he continued, “of course it wasn’t true. She and her family are devout
children of the Maker. They support the Church and honor its laws. However,
Gathner convinced Drothspar he’d have to leave the Order and he convinced Li
and her family that she would be excommunicated if she married him while he was
still a priest.

“What the old man
hadn’t
counted on was how much they had loved each other. I think he’d counted on
Drothspar staying in the priesthood and giving up his plans of marriage. It
didn’t work out that way, though. Drothspar left the Order and Li left the
city. Her family, always generous, gave the ‘eloping’ couple the lakeside
cottage and lands I sent you off to the last time you were here.”

“What happened then?”

“The deceitful old git
excommunicated them anyway! Cut off from the ministrations of the Church, they
were ostracized from society, for all intents and purposes. Even the farmers
nearby had been sent word that they were ‘sinful and unclean.’”

“I thought they got along well
with their neighbors,” Chance said, confused.

“They did, Sasha, they did. I
slipped around behind the old man’s back and gave the local farmers
dispensations to deal with the couple. I also made the locals take vows of
silence on the dispensations. Told them fabulous stories of hellfire and
vengeful Fallen who are damned to tormenting those who break such vows for any
reason.” He smirked to himself. “They wouldn’t have told Gathner if he’d have
come there himself to ask them.”

“Are the stories you told them
true?” she asked suspiciously.

Petreus winked at her broadly.

“Is the archpriest here now?”
Chance asked.

“No,” Petreus replied, rubbing
his hand over his scalp. “He traveled north a few days ago, to the Abbey in
Thenensfron.”

Chance nodded.

“He’s gone every year since the invasion,
on the anniversary.”

“On a ‘penitent’s pilgrimage?’”
Chance asked. She looked at Petreus thoughtfully. “So, Drothspar never knew
that it was Gathner who had cut him and his wife off from the rest of the
world.”

Petreus shrugged. “There’s
knowing and there’s knowing,” he said sagely. “The excommunication order could
only have come from the chapter archpriest. The real question is, ‘why did it
come?’ I think Drothspar had his suspicions about Gathner, but he couldn’t
bring himself to actually accuse the old man, even in his own heart.”

“Did he ever forgive you?”

“I like to think he did. I
certainly hope he did. I was the one who married them, after all.”

“He was eager to see you,” Chance
said, trying to cheer her uncle. Petreus looked at her with a strained
expression.

“Like I say,” he continued, “he
was always courteous. I would stop by when I was out pestering the locals. Li
was always happy to see me, and Drothspar seemed to be, too. Li, I think, knew
that Gathner was the source of their problems. Maybe she had caught one of the
looks he gave her when he was sure no one was looking. Maybe she just sensed it
of her own intuition. She was a smart young woman,” he said, shaking his head.
“I think Drothspar thought he would have time to rectify their situation.”

They heard a sound as Drothspar
stirred in the bed. He sat upright, swinging his legs over the side.

“You’re right,” he whispered
hollowly, “that’s exactly what I thought.”

The
sound of Drothspar’s voice sent chills down Chance’s back. Petreus watched the
hairs rising on his own arms. Drothspar looked at the two living people and
observed their reactions. Chance had become slightly pale and Petreus seemed to
measure the distance to the door every other second.

“I’m sorry,” Drothspar said,
raising his hand peacefully, palm out. “I seem to have lost my voice, but I
found this one thanks to you, Petreus.”

“Y-you couldn’t talk before,”
Chance pointed out.

“No,” Drothspar’s voice slithered,
“I couldn’t. Petreus’ prayer showed me something that forced me to speak.”

“What was it?” she asked,
curiosity overcoming her fear.

Drothspar shook his head.
“Another time, perhaps.”

“Have you been listening all this
time?” Petreus asked suspiciously, though a quiver remained in his voice.

“Yes,” Drothspar said.

Petreus shook his head and smiled
wryly. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

Drothspar nodded. Chance looked
between the two of them keenly feeling that she was missing something.

“He was always an excellent
investigator, Sasha,” Petreus explained, “he would never have let an
opportunity like the one we just provided slip away.”

“More like a spy,” Chance said
accusingly.

“That too,” the old man agreed.

“Petreus,” Drothspar asked, “what
happened to Li?”

The old man stared at the
fleshless skull addressing him and shuddered. He sighed, took a deep breath,
and spoke to the wall, somewhere between Drothspar and Chance.

“I don’t really know,” the old
man said. “It got pretty chaotic around here seven years ago. Of course, the
invaders never got this far, but people were in a panic nonetheless.

“Æostemark was lost. Most agree
that there was some sort of treachery involved in that. People say that some of
the inhabitants inside the walls weren’t who they appeared to be. Either way,
the city fell. As far as anyone could tell, the invasion got about as far as
Lake Othseval. They were stopped near the cottage.”

“They got a little farther than
the cottage,” Chance told the priest. “The farm to the west of Droth’s home was
pretty well destroyed.”

Petreus nodded. “I went to Li’s
father, ignoring Gathner’s prohibitions, and asked him if I could join any
expedition to the war zone.” The old man’s eyes closed and his head lolled back
on his shoulders.

“‘Haven’t you already done
enough, priest,’ he said to me. And what could I say in return? He didn’t want
to hear me defend myself, didn’t want to hear me say that, no, I hadn’t done
enough. He waved his hand and two guards escorted me from the chamber.”

“What about the estate staff,”
Chance asked, “I thought you were friendly with them?”

“I was,” Petreus grunted. “I
think they were ordered not to speak to me and never to come near me. So far,
I’ve only been able to think that. Not a single person has ever come forward to
prove it.”

“If he won’t answer to you,”
Drothspar said in his chilling voice, “perhaps he’ll tell his son-in-law.”

“Are you serious?” Petreus asked
him, alarmed. “He blames you far more than he blames me.” He caught the warning
look on Chance’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “I’m not trying to hurt
you, but it’s true all the same.”

Drothspar nodded slowly. “I still
have to go,” he said.

“Let me go with you, then,” the
old man offered. “If we’re going to storm their gates, let’s do it together, by
the Maker. Besides, I might be slightly less alarming to the living.” He smiled
and extended his hand to Drothspar.

Drothspar took the priest’s hand
and shook it. Petreus, however, was fascinated by the bony hand. He turned it over
in his own, looking at it closely.

“What in Creation is holding you
together, boy,” he asked curiously. He didn’t wait for any answer but pulled on
one of Drothspar’s fingers. Drothspar felt the tug, but the finger stayed in
place.

“Amazing,” the old man exclaimed,
still holding Drothspar’s hand. “Look at this, Sasha, there’s nothing there!”
He tugged much harder and Drothspar’s finger came loose as three pieces. “Oh
my,” he exclaimed.

“What did you do?” Chance shouted
at him before remembering there were other’s nearby. “What did you do?” she
repeated in a stern whisper.

Petreus had released Drothspar’s
hand when the finger detached. Drothspar examined his right hand and the space
where his finger should have been. He flexed his hand. It
felt
to him as
if the finger were still there. He looked at Petreus who was staring at the
pieces of bone in his hand.

“May I?” Drothspar asked,
extending his left hand to collect the bones.

“I… I’m sorry, Drothspar,” the priest
said as the blood drained completely out of his face. “I—I was just curious,
and…”

Drothspar took the bones back in
his left hand. He looked at them curiously, studying them, much as Petreus had
done. He juggled them around until the largest of the three was in his left
fingers. Examining the fingers of his left hand to be sure he had the correct
piece, he positioned it where it belonged on his right hand.

There was an odd pulling on the
piece of bone that he held. It was attracted to his right hand. He released the
piece from his fingers and it snapped into place. Again he flexed his right
hand, and the incomplete finger flexed with the rest. He opened his left hand
and put his right hand over the pieces. The bones of the missing finger danced
in his palm for a moment, then snapped together on his right hand. He held up
the now complete hand and flexed it. All the fingers moved exactly as they
should.

“How remarkable,” he breathed in
a chilling whisper.

“Y-yes,” Petreus agreed, his
chest fluttering with his breath.

Chance had been watching the hand
with a pale but curious look. She noticed that Petreus was breathing faster
than normal and asked him if he was okay.

“What?” the old man said, his
voice dreamy. “Of course! I’m just fine.” His eyes glazed out of focus. “If
you’ll excuse me,” he said politely. He stood up from his chair and his legs
buckled beneath him.

Chance dashed forward to catch
him as he fell. His eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped down gently
to the floor with Chance’s assistance.

“I think he’s fainted,” she told
Drothspar.

It took several minutes to get
Petreus back on his feet. Drothspar moved prudently out of Petreus’ line of
sight as the priest’s eyes fluttered. Petreus sat down shakily on the bed as
Chance poured him a glass of wine. He looked slightly perplexed as he took the
glass from her, but smiled politely as she urged him to drink. His face warmed
a rosy red as he finished the glass and he shook himself like a dog emerging
from the water.

“I seem to have nodded off,” he
said lightly, though his forehead wrinkled as if he didn’t believe his own
words. “No, that wasn’t… Oh,” he said, looking at the Drothspar in the corner
of the room. “Oh,” he repeated, with a bit more conviction. “Not a dream?”

“No, Uncle,” Chance smiled at
him. He smiled back wryly.

“Right then,” he said, “odd as
that was, it was still rather interesting.” He rose, unsteadily, to his feet
and sat back down in his chair. He looked at Drothspar who was pushing his
hands toward Chance as if urging her forward. Noticing Petreus’ glance,
Drothspar stopped at once.

“He wants to know if it’s all
right to talk to you,” Chance interpreted. “I think he’s afraid you’ll faint
again.”

“Of course it’s all right,”
Petreus said to Drothspar. “And I did
not
faint,” he added to Chance. “I
was merely overcome with a desire to kneel in ecstasy.” He smiled roguishly.
“Odd sight,” he said candidly, “bones separating when they shouldn’t even be
out without their clothes on.”

“Are you certain you’re okay?”
Drothspar asked in his sepulchral whisper.

“Oh yes, couldn’t be better.”
Petreus nodded spasmodically as he poured himself another glass of wine. He
drank it down in one gulp then prudently poured himself another.

“Do you know anything about Li?”
Drothspar asked again, kneeling before the priest. “What happened to her after
I… died?”

Petreus looked at the hollow eyes
before him. His face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he sighed heavily. His
eyes blinked repeatedly and reddened around the edges. He struggled with
something inside of himself. His eyes steadied and his lips pressed tightly
together. He inhaled deeply and reached out with his right hand to grasp
Drothspar’s shoulder. He felt the thin bone under his hand, but his expression
didn’t change. There was a time for personal fear and there was a time to be a
priest, a comforter of souls. Drothspar reached for the old man’s hand. Petreus
didn’t shy away. Chance felt tears welling in her eyes. She had never been so
proud of her uncle.

“Drothspar,” Petreus said, “I’m
sorry, son, I really am. I think Li is dead.” He felt the skeletal hand close
tightly on his, he could feel pain as the fingers gripped more tightly than
intended. He kept his hand still for the bones to hold, he squeezed the
shoulder in reply.

“Arlethord was thrown into chaos
by news of the invasion. The Crown called for order, but the nobles didn’t
listen. Instead of joining with the Crown armies, many of the nobles sent their
forces east on their own. I suppose each was eager to snatch a bit of glory
from their peers. No one knows who reached the invaders first. No one knows who
made it to the cottage first. There were rumors, of course, but I’ve never been
privy to the sources.

“Li’s father sent the majority of
his forces to join with the Crown. He released one company of light cavalry to
probe east. Their orders were to secure the cottage, his daughter, and her
husband. If they were successful, they were to escort you back to Arlethord. If
they were not, their orders were to join up with the Crown forces.

“I joined the Crown forces
myself, with Gathner and several other priests. I attached myself to Ythel’s
forces and the Duke did not object. He told me about the company he had sent to
find you. They never met up with us.

“The Crown forces raced toward
Æostemark, but we were too late. The city was nothing more than a funeral pyre.
Everything, everyone was dead. I heard that some few of the inhabitants
survived, hidden in cellars, hiding in the forest, but you would never have
believed it by looking at the city. We had raced there to support our own
forces and engage the enemy. We did neither. There was no one left. Every
soldier who had fought over Æostemark, from either Marynd or Sel Avrand, had
fallen.”

Drothspar raised his head to look
at the old man’s glistening eyes.

“My God,” the old man said, his
eyes focused on a past that only he could see. “The fields ran red with blood.
It mixed with rain in puddles and flowed in little rivulets like water from a
spring thaw. Bits of armor, bits of people were scattered like trash all over
the field. Arrows stuck up out of the ground like some sort of rank, stiff
weeds. Fire licked the walls of the city and smoke rose despite the lashing
rains. Even the oldest soldiers and the hardest campaigners cried that day.”
Petreus breathed heavily, his shoulders slumping as if they had been pressed
under an enormous weight.

“We marched east looking for
someone to chastise. There was no one there to meet us. King Olventross sent
emissaries to discuss a truce, to try and
understand
what had happened.
It didn’t take long to find out that the rightful ruler of Sel Avrand had been
deposed by his son. Apparently the son had been the one to initiate the
invasion, on the counsel of some unknown advisor. The young man’s horribly
disfigured face was sent to Olventross as a token of good faith.” Petreus’ head
lowered and his eyes closed. “Faith,” he muttered softly.

“Peace was negotiated, treaties
were signed, reparations were paid. We withdrew and started to march home. Ythel
took three companies to the cottage. I went with them.

“We found the remains of the
light horse company. Their bodies were stretched throughout the forest between
Æostemark and the cottage. It looked as if they had fought a running battle
with some forward scouts. Corpses of Eastern cavalry lay interspersed with
Ythel’s men. One of Ythel’s was still alive, barely, but I don’t think he
survived the trip home.

“We pushed to the cottage with
Ythel in the lead. The Duke made it inside the cottage before I’d even made it
to the clearing. He was standing with his back to me as I rode up. Five of his
men approached me, still on horseback. They had been with him as he raced
ahead. They also informed me that I was to be ‘escorted’ back to Arlethord.

“I felt as if I’d been hit in the
head with a rock. I sputtered stupidly for a while. I cried out to Ythel as
they led me away. I cried and I yelled and he never once looked back at me. I
just wanted to know. I had to know.” Tears rolled quietly down the old man’s face.
He paused a moment, sniffed, and wiped his cheeks on his shoulders. Chance
poured him another glass of wine and the old man accepted it gratefully.