03 - The Eternal Rose Page 12

  “This is my mother,” Habadra Chani cried. “How can your loss compare with mine?"

  Kallista went rigid with anger and Torchay opened his hand, pressing it flat on her back. Obed's hand bumped his, as he did the same, and Torchay pulled back. He was not ilias here, not lover. Only bodyguard.

  Kallista ground her retort in her teeth, averting disaster. “It serves no purpose to compare grief."

  “He is im-Varyl,” Obed said, as if that would explain it. And perhaps it did, for the Habadra subsided.

  A man near the murdered Habadra's age pushed his way through the soldiers. He staggered when he saw the bodies, but recovered with a quiet, anguished dignity. He walked to the new Head of Line and bowed. “Habadra Chani."

  She turned her grief-stricken face up to him. “Father. How can she be gone?"

  He shook his head, unable to answer. Then he lifted the lifeless body of his wife and carried it from the courtyard. The new Habadra struggled to her feet, wiping her face with a hand. “Who has done this evil deed?” She glared at Kallista.

  “My Godmarked was here alone with your mother. They are both dead, but it was my il—my Godmarked who was mutilated. In your House. Perhaps—"

  Joh stepped forward, cleared his throat. “There is a woman. She was caught running—"

  “Where?” Habadra Chani interrupted him, striding forward with hate in her eyes.

  “Here.” The Adaran guard captain stepped out from her place near the door. She kept the lines of retreat open. Torchay nodded approval.

  The captain dragged with her the blood-soaked woman Joh had captured. One of the Habadra champions made as if to take possession of her, but the captain's glare and the steel in her other hand stopped him, as did Joh's advance. He and Fox took custody of the woman, bringing her the rest of the way to the secluded patio where Stone's body still lay horribly exposed.

  Torchay reached behind Kallista to get Obed's attention. He'd worn one of the loose Daryathi-style overrobes tonight. Torchay gestured for him to remove it and cover Stone's body. Obed nodded, but when he moved to lay the elaborately adorned robe over him, Kallista said “No, don't. Don't cover him yet."

  Obed did so anyway, for once in perfect accord with Torchay. She didn't need to see that awful sight any longer. None of them did.

  There was an ominous stillness in Kallista, and Torchay looked for its cause. She stared at the woman held by Fox and Joh. Torchay frowned. The half-naked servant looked vaguely familiar. Could it be—? But why?

  “A servant?” The Habadra spat out the word. Then she also looked more closely at the woman. “This is the servant your people wanted to redeem."

  “Yes.” Kallista confirmed it. The woman was Merinda.

  God in heaven, what had happened to her? She looked older than Leyja, though she was years younger than Kallista, near Viyelle's thirty-four.

  “She is your people. Your people did this, killed my mother, slaughtered her own husband."

  “But we have not seen her in six years,” Kallista retorted. “She has been in your hands. She is so changed I almost did not know her. What have you done to her that would drive her to such an act? And are you even certain that she did it?"

  “Look at her!” Chani waved her hand along Merinda's blood-smeared body.

  “Look at me.” Kallista spread her hands, showing the blood on her clothing where she had touched Stone, held him. “Blood alone is not evidence enough. I am naitan. Truthsayer. Question her. Let me use my magic to see what the truth is."

  The Habadra's eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How do I know what you say is the truth?"

  “Don't you have naitani? Send for one. She can read my truth."

  Torchay had listened to Bekaara talk about Daryathi magic. He didn't know whether their naitani would leave the temple, and from the way the Habadra snarled, she didn't believe they would.

  “We can try the truth in Daryathi fashion,” Chani said.

  What was Daryathi fashion? Torchay didn't know. Obed obviously did, for he had gone utterly still in that way that meant someone could die in the next moment. Not good.

  “She is ours,” Kallista said. “We have her. We will try the truth in Adaran fashion. If your naitan will not come, I will set a spell so that you can hear the truth yourself, so that you will know as she speaks it whether it is truth or lie."

  Could she do that? Torchay had never heard of such a thing, although he'd seen Kallista do too many things no one had ever done. But she didn't have Stone. The one time the ilian been separated before, she'd said the lack of Stone's magic had made the remaining magic difficult to shape. Would it be so again?

  Habadra Chani still frowned, still bristled with hate and grief, but she nodded. Once.

  Torchay braced himself against the pull of magic so that it would not distract him from duty. Over the past years, he'd got better at not being distracted. He could feel the odd buzz that told him Kallista was working magic. The buzz had changed when the mark of the One had struck her, but Torchay had been able to tell when she used magic long before then.

  He blinked. He'd never been able to see it before, however. Not like this. An odd white glow, like a mist but filled with light rather than hiding it, spread across the center of the courtyard just above the heads of the people in it. Torchay blinked again, but the mist was still there. Everyone else seemed to see it too, so he relaxed. It was Kallista's spell.

  She stood close enough to him that he could feel her trembling. Was the magic so great a strain? Torchay laid his hand on her back again, offering what support he could. She said his magic held power. Perhaps by touching, she could access it easier. He shifted his touch to her bare hand and she closed it around his, a sense of gratitude coming through their link.

  “The magic will tell lie from truth.” Kallista indicated the mist overhead. “No matter who is speaking. If any of us fails to speak the truth, the magic will show us."

  With another narrow-eyed glare, Chani spoke. “Shakiri Shathina is my dearest friend."

  The mist roiled and turned a dark, ugly yellow-brown.

  “Shakiri Shathina is my aunt.” Obed said, and watched while the mist cleared to pure white again. Then he added, “But I do not love her.” The mist stayed white.

  “Satisfied?” Kallista raised an eyebrow at the Habadra who nodded grudgingly. “Then we will begin on the edges and work our way through to the center of the truth. Joh. What did you see?"

  Caught off guard, Joh cleared his throat, then fell into a parade-rest position, hands clasped behind his back. “My Reinine.” He inclined his head in a little bow, then stared straight ahead at nothing as he spoke.

  “I came here with my—wife, Viyelle Prinsipella Torvyll, to assist Stone Varyl vo'Tsekrish in redeeming his wife and child. Fox Varyl vo'Tsekrish, Stone's brodir, also came."

  The mist floated peacefully overhead, maintaining its clean color as Joh explained where everyone had been.

  “We waited twenty, perhaps thirty ticks. It could have been less. Time passes slowly when waiting. And we felt—it was—” He stopped, looking helplessly at Kallista. “You pulled magic. We all felt it. You were worried and I think—it seemed your worry was for Stone. We stood, but didn't know what to do.

  “You were still calling magic and—your worry faded. I sensed—Stone. For just a moment. Then he was gone, completely gone. And you screamed. I could hear your scream."

  “What kind of nonsense is this?” Habadra Chani's voice oozed scorn. “Even I know the Reinine Kallista was at Shakiri House. How could—?"

  “It is truth.” Kallista pointed at the pearl-white mist. “Do you know magic? Know anything of its working? Do not dismiss a thing simply because you don't understand it."

  “How do I know the magic is working for him? Maybe you set it for only the Daryathi born."

  “Joh. Tell us a lie."

  “When you screamed, I stayed in the courtyard with Fox and Viyelle."

  Immediately, the mist darkened to a muddy
purple.

  “Interesting.” Kallista cocked her head as she studied the magic. “Joh, change your lie."

  “I stayed in the courtyard,” he said. “Fox and Viyelle ran inside."

  The mist, which had cleared to white again during Kallista's words, went grayish-lavender.

  “So, partial truth, but not all of it.” Kallista let go of Torchay and propped her hands on her hips as she stared up at her truth-mist. As long as she looked up, she didn't have to see the blood, didn't have to think about—

  She took a deep, shuddering breath, wrapping invisible arms around the links to her remaining mates and held them tight as she drew in tiny driblets of magic to maintain the mist. She had to hold herself together. Later, she would have time for grief.

  A commotion sounded across the courtyard, voices raised in argument and Adaran curses. Keldrey was here. The smile didn't reach Kallista's face, but it settled round her aching heart.

  “Let him through,” she called. “He is one of ours."

  Keldrey pushed himself past the Habadra champions and came to join them. Unlike their iliasti, he did not fall, but then he had been warned. He knew what he would see. He went heavily to a knee, laid a gentle hand on Obed's robe where it was pulled over Stone's head, then moved to stand beside Leyja.

  Kallista had to look away, at Joh still standing at parade rest, still staring off at nothing, a pair of fresh tears making new tracks through the blood Kallista had smeared on his face. Magic. Think about the magic.

  “Tell another lie, Joh,” she said. “Another sort of lie. Like the one the Habadra told."

  He considered for a moment, his throat working as if he had to swallow down grief before he could push the words out. “I do not care what has happened."

  Instantly, the mist seemed to shudder as it flashed to such a dark, ugly brown as to be almost black.

  “Oh, that is such a lie.” Kallista hugged her links tight, clinging for comfort as she stared hard at the mist, fighting her own tears. She could see shades of pustulent yellow deep within the darkness. It was the same color as the Habadra's lie, but much deeper, much farther from the truth.

  “So, the magic has different colors for different sorts of lies,” she said. “And different shades for different levels of truth. If it is a partial truth, the color is closer to white."

  The truth-mist turned a pale, delicate pink, and Kallista felt bizarrely like laughing. “That is almost correct, but not quite, or so the magic says."

  She turned to Habadra Chani. “Shall we go on?"

  “I do not see why we do not just execute the woman and have done with it,” the other woman said sullenly.

  “Because I want to know the truth. Joh.” Kallista looked at him again, at his well-loved face, austere beneath the smooth line of his pulled-back hair. “Who ran into the house?"

  “We all did."

  The mist cleared to white.

  “We had to break down the inner gate. A servant tried to stop us. Fox stopped him—nothing broken, just a headache. We ran into the house and fanned out to search. Viyelle found him. Them. She went into the courtyard. She screamed. We came."

  Joh paused, cleared his throat, struggled to regain his composure. “We found Stone's body, but his head was missing.” He choked on the words, on his pain.

  Viyelle edged closer, her hand brushed his and Joh grabbed a fierce hold.

  “I saw someone moving,” he finally went on, voice steadier. “Someone sneaking from the courtyard, going back into the reception hall. I gave chase. Viyelle came with me. We caught her in the courtyard, the public one. She had—” He coughed. “She had Stone's head. Viyelle took it—brought it back. Servants came. I held them off. I had Merinda. I couldn't—"

  Kallista swiped her face dry with both hands. “That was when we arrived.” “Yes.” Even the Habadra looked shaken at Joh's story. Kallista took the hand Obed offered, leaned back into Torchay's hand at her back. Later, she reminded herself. She wiped her eyes again. “Is that how it happened?” Kallista looked at Fox and Viyelle. “Yes,” they said in unison. Viyelle shuddered, swayed toward Joh and he put an arm around her. Kallista turned her attention to the woman Fox held prisoner. “Merinda.” The half-naked slave twitched, but did not lift her eyes. “Merinda, look at me.” Kallista put all the authority she could summon into her voice. Slowly, Merinda looked up and met her eyes. Kallista recoiled at the madness in the depths of the other woman's green gaze. What had caused it? The demon that had driven her from Arikon and their ilian, or the enslavement here in Mestada?

  * * *

  Chapter Ten

  “Who are you?” Kallista asked. “What is your name?"

  “I am Merinda Kyndir,” she said in a hollow, echoing voice. “Here, they have named me Hieran. It means midwife.” She spoke in an odd mix of Daryathi and Adaran, switching back and forth.

  “What did you do today? This evening.” Kallista narrowed her question. She did not want a recitation of Merinda's every move since dawn.

  “I was told my husband had come to redeem me and the boy. I was given a tray of refreshments for the Habadra and her guest. I—"

  “Who gave you the tray?” Kallista interrupted.

  “The House steward. Zyan-sa."

  “Did you do anything to the refreshments after the steward gave them to you?"

  “Yes.” Merinda said nothing more. Slave training, to answer only the question asked? Self-preservation? Or something else?

  “What did you do?"

  “I put poison in the wine."

  Habadra Chani hissed at the words. She snatched a knife from her nearest champion and lunged at Merinda, but Keldrey was there first, blocking her.

  He gently removed the knife from her grasp and handed her back to her people. “Wait till the Reinine is done."

  “What is there yet to know? She poisoned my mother.” The Habadra threw off the hands restraining her, but stayed where she was.

  “Where did you get the poison? Did someone give it to you?” Kallista asked. The new Habadra would want to know that.

  “I made it. In my workroom.” Merinda's voice was flat, perfectly emotionless. Utterly unlike the woman she once was.

  “For the One's sake, why?"

  “In case I needed it to protect myself."

  “Why did you think you needed protection? Who were you protecting yourself from?"

  “Him.” Merinda pointed at Stone's body beneath its ornate covering. She looked at Habadra Chani then. “I am sorry your mother died. She was not a bad master."

  “You killed my mother just to be sure of killing your husband?” Chani seemed unable to take it in.

  Merinda's face changed, went suddenly feral, frightening. “He is not my husband!"

  The Habadra swung toward Kallista. “Then he had no right to attempt to redeem—"

  Kallista held up a hand to stop Chani's bluster. “Merinda, is Stone the father of your child?"

  “No,” she said, sullen.

  The mist turned a dark maroon.

  “That is a lie, Merinda.” Kallista made fists to keep from striking the woman. “Is Stone the father of your child?"

  “Maybe. He might be. Or it might be—” The mist faded to a rusty brick-red and Merinda trailed to a stop as it refused to lighten further.

  “The truth, Merinda. You have East magic. You can read bloodlines. Is Stone the father of your child?"

  “Yes.” All emotion had vanished again from Merinda, back to the flat tones, expressionless features.

  Kallista took a moment to find a safe wording for the next question. “Did you participate in a legal ceremony that married you to Stone Varyl?"

  “Yes."

  Kallista hid a sigh of relief. Merinda had gone back to her limited answers. If Kallista asked her questions carefully, surely the other woman wouldn't add that she had been married to eight others at the same time.

  “Why did the mist stay white when she said he was not her husband?” Habadra Chani demanded.r />
  Merinda said nothing. The Habadra hadn't asked the question of her.

  “Why do you say he's not your husband?” Kallista had to clear her throat and rephrase what she couldn't say, not yet. That Stone was dead. “Because you are now a widow?"

  “I divorced him,” Merinda said.

  “When?” Kallista had sent people to check temple records all across Adara, with no result.

  “When I left Arikon."

  “Did you have the divorce recorded in a temple?"

  “No."

  “So you were never actually, legally divorced."

  Merinda shrugged without speaking.

  “But you considered yourself divorced.” Kallista wanted to get everything straight so she and the Habadra could understand the magic's reaction to Merinda's answers.

  “Yes,” the blood-soaked woman said.

  “Even though you never went through any legalities or filed any documents."

  “Yes."

  The mist stayed white.

  “Then why did you have to kill him?” Somehow, Kallista managed to keep the howl out of her voice.

  Once more, the flat, emotionless Merinda cracked open and the wild, feral Merinda burst forth. “Because he wanted me back. He came to get me, to take me back. Nothing bad ever happened to me before I met you, before I caught his child. But after, nothing good ever happened to me again. You cursed me. If he hadn't got me pregnant, I'd be free of you."

  Fox gave Merinda a little shake and her raving shut off abruptly.

  This time, Chani's glance at Kallista was almost sympathetic. Almost. “But why,” Chani asked, “did you have to—mutilate his body? After you had poisoned them?"

  “So he would stay dead.” Merinda said it as if the Habadra were stupid for not knowing.

  “She—” Merinda pointed accusation at Kallista. “She was bringing him back. I could see it. He was moving again, coming awake. But he was still on the ground, weak. Powerless. So I took his sword—it didn't want me to hold it. It didn't like me. But I took it anyway, and I killed him again."

  “Oh Goddess,” Kallista moaned. She couldn't help it. It hurt too much.