“Blessings spoken by a wretch in service to a creature of the Dark.” Reva stepped back, raising her voice and casting her gaze across each face. “You are fools, so steeped in the Ten Books you can’t even see the truth they hold. The Father does not bless deception and murder, the Father does not offer succour to those who would torment children to vile ends.”
She fell silent, feeling it build again, the same rage that had seized her during the siege, the fury that had seen her slit the throats of slavers and cut the heads from prisoners. The nameless priest shuddered, swallowing again as he fought down terror-born vomit. Arentes stood behind the shackled line with a full company of House Guard, swords drawn, each of them glaring at the traitors with an expression of grim hunger.
Reva took the scroll tucked into her belt, holding it up so they could see the seal and the somewhat unsteady signature. “By order of the Holy Reader you are all named as ex-communicants from the Church of the World Father. You are forbidden from reading or reciting any of the Ten Books as you have proved yourselves unworthy of the Father’s love.” She looked once again at the broken-nosed priest. “And I know your name since the Father doesn’t want it, Master Jorent.”
She watched them close their eyes, heads bowing, some whispering prayers, one or two weeping with stains on their trews, much like the Volarian prisoners before being led to the block, though they hadn’t prayed, only begged.
“Lord Arentes,” Reva said. “Remove the shackles. Let them go.”
• • •
Veliss hadn’t voiced any rebuke, only puzzlement. “They plotted against your house once, what’s to stop them doing so again?”
“A plot requires concealment, hidden names, hidden faces. Now they are denied the shadows.”
“And you have denied yourself justice.”
“No, only revenge. The Father has ever been clear they are not the same thing.”
The various contingents of conscripts began arriving a month later, even though the rapidly descending winter did much to discourage marching. With the ever-deepening cold Reva ordered work on the walls stopped and all hands put to repairing the city proper, tents and oilskins to be replaced with walls and tiled roofs. Rationing was resumed as the snows blocked the passes through the mountains to Nilsael and halted further supply from the southern shore.
Reva began each day with Ellese’s lessons, starting with the knife, finding a long-bladed dirk that suited the girl’s small grip. For all her enthusiasm she was a clumsy student, given to frequent falls and scraped knees, though, unlike every other chore she was put to, her lessons with Reva never provoked tears, but her passion for questions remained unabated.
“Were you my age when you learned to do this?”
“I started younger. Don’t jump when you thrust, it’ll leave you unbalanced.”
“Who taught you?”
“A very bad man.”
“Why was he bad?”
“He wanted me to do bad things.”
“What bad things?”
“Too many to list. Watch me, not your feet.”
She left her to practice on the lawn and joined Veliss on the veranda, wrapped in furs against the frosty air and holding a sealed scroll. “It’s come then?”
Veliss nodded, handing her the scroll, though her gaze was still on Ellese, dancing her clumsy dance on the lawn. “She’s not really suited to this.”
“She’ll learn, from both of us.”
“Why did you take her in? You could have found a decent home for her elsewhere. Cumbrael is rich in bereaved mothers hungry for children.”
Reva glanced back at Ellese as she parried a thrust from an invisible enemy. “She didn’t run. When I went into her house she tried to stab me, and when I took her knife away she still didn’t run.” She turned back to Veliss. “I would appreciate it if you would see to the articles of adoption.”
“You’re sure? She’s so young.”
“She’s of noble birth and keen mind, with you to guide her she’ll do very well. And we need to secure the future.”
Veliss’s eyes went to the scroll, lingering on the queen’s seal. “I have never asked you for a promise. But I ask one now. Whatever awaits you across the ocean, promise you will stay alive and come back to me.”
Reva unfurled the scroll, finding it penned in the queen’s own hand, rich in warm regard and appreciation for her diligent enforcement of the edict, ending with a politely phrased order to bring her forces to South Tower by the last day of Illnasur.
