Blood of the Fold

Chapter 38

As Verna hurried toward the gate to the Prelate’s compound, she noticed Kevin Andellmere standing guard in the darkness. She was impatient to get to the sanctuary, to tell Ann that she had at last figured it out, and she now knew almost every one of the Sisters loyal to the Light, but she hadn’t seen Kevin in weeks. Despite her heart-pounding rush, she stopped.

“Kevin, is that you?”

The young soldier bowed. “Yes, Prelate.”

“I haven’t seen you around for quite a time, have I?”

“No, Prelate. Bollesdun, Walsh, and I were called back to our command.”

“Why?”

Kevin shifted his weight. “I’m not sure, exactly. My commander was curious about the spell over the palace, I think. I’ve know him for near to fifteen years, and he’s aged. He wanted to see with his own eyes if it were true that we hadn’t. He said Bollesdun, Walsh, and I look the same as we did when he first saw us, fifteen years ago. He said he had doubted it when he heard it said, but he believed it, now. He had his commanders who knew us come look for themselves.”

Verna felt her forehead break out with beads of perspiration. With a cold wash of understanding, she knew why the emperor was coming to the Palace of the Prophets. She had to tell the Prelate. There was no time to lose.

“Kevin, are you a loyal soldier of the Empire, of the Imperial Order?”

Kevin slid his hand up on his pike. His voice hesitated. “Yes, Prelate. I mean, when the Order conquered my homeland, I had little choice; I was made a soldier in the Order. I fought for a time up north, near the wilds. Then, when the Order took over our kingdom, I was told I was a soldier for the Order, and assigned to the palace.

“Can’t get a better guard job than this. I’m glad to be back guarding your compound. Bollesdun and Walsh are glad to be back, too, to their posts at the Prophet’s compound.

“My officers have always treated me decent, at least, and I always get paid. It’s not much, but it always comes, and I see plenty of people who have no work, and have a hard time eating.”

Verna put a gentle hand to his arm. “Kevin, what do you think of Richard?”

“Richard?” A grin came over his face. “I liked Richard. He bought me expensive chocolates for me to give my lady.”

“Is that all he means to you? Chocolates?”

He scratched his eyebrow. “No . . . I didn’t mean it that way. Richard was . . . a good man.”

“Do you know why he bought you those chocolates?”

“Because he was nice. He cared about people.”

Verna nodded. “Yes, he did. He hoped that by giving you chocolates, when the time came for him to escape, it would make you see him as a friend and keep you from fighting him so he wouldn’t have to kill you. He didn’t want you as an enemy trying to kill him.”

“Kill him? Prelate, I would never have—”

“If he hadn’t been kind to you, you might have been loyal to the palace first, and tried to stop him.”

He glanced to the ground. “I’ve seen him use his sword. I guess the gift was more than chocolates.”

“That it was. Kevin, if a times comes, and you have to choose—Richard, or the Order—which would you choose?”

His face twisted in discomfort. “Prelate, I’m a soldier.” He let out a groan. “But Richard is a friend. I guess that if I had to, I’d be hard-pressed to raise a weapon against a friend. Any of the palace guard would be. They all like him.”

She squeezed his arm. “Be loyal to your friends, Kevin, and you will be all right. Be loyal to Richard, and it will save you.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Prelate. But I don’t fear I will have to choose.”

“Kevin, listen to me. The emperor is an evil man.” Kevin didn’t say anything. “You just remember that. And keep my words to yourself, will you?”

“Yes, Prelate.”

As Verna marched into her outer office, Phoebe came halfway out of her chair when she saw her. “Good evening, Prelate.”

“I have to pray for guidance, Phoebe. No visitors.”

Something Kevin had said abruptly snagged in her mind. It didn’t make sense. “Guards Bollesdun and Walsh have been assigned to the Prophet’s compound. We don’t have a prophet. Find out why they’re there and who ordered it, and give me a report first thing in the morning.” Verna shook a finger. “First thing.”

“Verna—” Phoebe sank back into her chair and looked down to her desk. Sister Dulcinia turned her white face away, putting her attention to her reports. “Verna, there are some Sisters here to see you. They wait inside.”

“I gave no one permission to wait in my office!”

Phoebe didn’t look up. “I know. Prelate, but—”

“I’ll see to this. Thank you, Phoebe.”

Verna was masked in a furious scowl as she stormed into her office. No one was allowed in her office without her explicit permission. She didn’t have time to waste with nonsense. She had figured out how to tell the Sisters of the Light from the Sisters of the Dark, and she knew why Emperor Jagang was coming to Tanimura, to the Palace of the Prophets. She had to send a message to Ann. She had to know what she was to do.

She saw the figures of four women in the dark room as she closed the distance. “What is the meaning of this!”

Verna recognized Sister Leoma as she stepped forward into the candlelight.

And then, in a blinding flash of pain, the world went black.

“Do as I say, Nathan.”

He leaned down toward her, quite a distance, considering their difference in height, and gnashed his teeth. “You could at least give me access to my Han! How can I protect you?”

Ann watched in the darkness as the column of five hundred men followed the Lord Rahl up the street. “I don’t want you to protect me. We can’t take the chance. You know what to do. You must not interfere until he has rescued me, or we won’t have a chance of capturing one so dangerous.”

“What if he doesn’t ‘rescue’ you?”

Ann tried not to think of that possibility. She tried not to think of what was going to happen even if events took the correct fork. “Must I now lecture a prophet on prophecy? You must let it happen. Afterward, I will remove the block. Now, take the horses to a stable for the night. Make sure they are well fed.”

Nathan snatched the reins from her. “Have it your way, woman.” He turned back. “You had better hope that I never get this collar off, or we are going to have a very long talk. You won’t be able to do a proper job of holding up your end of the conversation, though, because you will be bound and gagged at the time.”

Ann chuckled. “Nathan, you’re a good man. I trust in you. You must trust in me.”

He shook a finger at her. “If you get yourself killed . . .”

“I know, Nathan.”

He growled. “And they say I’m the one who is mad.” He turned back to her. “At least you could get yourself something to eat. You haven’t eaten all day. There’s a market just over there. Promise me you will at least have something to eat.”

“I’m not—”

“Promise me!”

Ann sighed. “All right, Nathan. If it will make you happy, I will have something to eat. But I’m not very hungry.” He lifted a finger in admonition. “I said I promise. Now go on.”

After he had finally stormed off with the horses, she proceeded on toward the Keep. Her stomach churned with the fear of walking into a prophecy blind. She didn’t like the idea of going to the Keep again, but she liked it even less considering the prophecy involved. Still, she had to do this. It was the only way.

“Honey cake, ma’am? They’re only a penny, and quite good.”

Ann looked down at a little girl in big coat standing behind a rickety table. Honey cake. Well, she hadn’t promised what she would eat. A honey cake would do.

Ann smiled at the pretty face. “All alone out here at night?”

The girl turned and pointed. “No, m’lady, my grandmamma is here with me.”

A squat woman was curled up, all covered over in a tattered blanket, apparently asleep. Ann fished around in a pocket and pulled out a coin.

“A silver for you, my dear. You look to need it more than I.”

“Oh, thank you, m’lady.” She pulled a honey cake from under the table. “Please take this one. It’s one of the special ones, with the most honey. I save them for the nicest people to stop at my stand.”

Ann smiled as she took the honey cake. “Well, thank you, my dear.”

As Ann started up the road to the Keep, the little girl began packing up her things.

Ann savored the sweet honey cake as she eyed the people milling about the small market, looking for one who would be trouble. She didn’t see any who looked dangerous, but she knew one was. She put her attention back to the road. What would be, would be. She wondered if it would really ease the anxiety if she knew how it would come. Probably not.

In the darkness, no one saw her take the road to the Keep, and at last she was alone. She wished Nathan were with her, but in a way, it was nice to be alone at last, if only for a brief time. It did give her time, without Nathan’s presence, to think about her life, and what changes this would mean. So many years.

In a way, what she was doing was like condemning to death those she loved. What choice had she?

She licked her fingers clean when she finished the honey cake. It hadn’t settled her stomach, as she had hoped it would. By the time she crossed under the iron portcullis, her stomach was in churning turmoil. What was wrong with her? She had faced dangers before. Maybe, as she got older, she found life more precious, and held on more tenaciously, fearing to let it slip.

By the time she lit a candle inside the Keep, she knew something was wrong. She felt on fire. Her eyes burned. Her joints ached. Was she sick? Dear Creator, not now. She needed strength.

When she felt the stabbing pain under her breastbone, she crossed an arm across her middle and slumped into a chair. She groaned as the room spun. What was . . . ?

The honey cake.

It had never occurred to her that it could come this way. She had been wondering how one could overpower her; she was not without her Han, after all, and it was strong in her, stronger than nearly any other sorceress. How could she be so stupid? She doubled over in the chair with a searing lash of pain.

In her wavering vision, she saw two figures enter the room, one short, one taller. Two? She hadn’t expected two. Dear Creator, two could ruin everything.

“Well, well. Look what the night netted me.”

Struggling with the effort, Ann tilted her head up. “Who . . . is . . . it?”

They stepped closer. “Don’t you remember me?” The old woman in the blanket cackled. “Don’t recognize me, all old and wasted? Well, you’re to blame for that. I must say, you look hardly a day older. I could still have my youth, were it not for you, my dear, dear Prelate. Then you would recognize me.”

Ann gasped as the twisting pain bore down on her.

“Honey cake not setting well?”

“Who . . .”

The old woman put her hands to her knees and leaned down. “Why, Prelate, surely, you must remember? I promised you that you would pay for what you did to me. And you don’t even remember the cruel thing you did? Did it mean that little to you?”

Ann’s eyes widened in sudden recognition. She would never have recognized her after all these years, but the voice, the voice was the same. “Valdora.”

The old woman cackled again. “Well, dear Prelate, I’m honored you would remember one so lowly as I.” She bowed with exaggerated courtesy, “I hope you also remember what I promised you. You do remember, don’t you? I promised to see you dead.”

Ann felt herself hit the floor as she writhed in agony. “I thought that . . . after you . . . reflected on your actions . . . you would see the wrong in your ways. I can see, now, that . . . I was right to put you . . . from the palace. You . . . have no right to serve as a Sister.”

“Oh, don’t you concern yourself, Prelate. I’ve started my own palace. My granddaughter here is my student, my novice. I teach her better than your Sisters could ever teach. I teach her everything.”

“You teach her . . . to poison people?”

Valdora laughed. “Oh, the poison won’t kill you. Just a little something to incapacitate you until I could bind you up all helpless in a web. You’ll not die so easily.” She leaned down closer, her voice coming like venom. “You are going to be a long time dying, Prelate. You may even last all the way to morning. A person can die a thousand times over in a single night.”

“How could you have . . . known . . . I would come?”

The woman straightened. “Oh, I didn’t. When I saw the Lord Rahl, and he gave me one of your coins, I thought he might end up bringing me a Sister, too. I had no idea, not in my wildest hopes, that he would bring me the Prelate herself. Delivered right into my hands. My, my, what a marvel. No, I never even dared hope. I would have been more than happy just to skin one of your Sisters, or even your student, Lord Rahl, to do you a pain. But now I can fulfill my deepest, darkest desires.”

Ann tried to call her Han. Through the layer of pain, she realized the honey cake had contained more than simple poison. It had been bound up with a spell.

Dear Creator, this was not going the way it should.

The room was getting dim. She felt a jerk of pain in her scalp. She felt the stone scrape along her back. She saw the pretty, smiling face of the girl walking along at her side.

“I forgive you, child,” Ann whispered.

And then, the blackness smothered her.