"You don't want to try it on our own, then?" Lynx asked mildly.
Marhysse sighed. "No. I don't think it's a good idea. Those people we were fighting…I'm sure they realize we've been taken into the Temple District, and I think it is more than likely they're watching for us. By now, they'll have realized who you are, at least—"
Lynx gave her a surprised look and said, "You think?"
Marhysse's smile was a little crooked. "It would take an Eschaddande to hold her own with a dagger against a swordsman. And if I were planning to move against the Ghytteve, I would certainly want you out of the way, if it looked like I could do it."
"So. How many soldiers would we need for an escort? A hente?"
"Three at least—more if we really have to go through riot. Lynx, what are you thinking?"
"Just that I might be able to arrange for the Imperials to provide an escort—if Owl's listening, and if he can get word to Thantor. Should I try?"
Marhysse's face broke into a sudden grin. "Wouldn't that confound Sakhass—if the Imperials really did show up for us? Do try, Lynx. I want to see his face!"
Lynx closed her eyes and focused her mind. Owl?
Lynx! His reply was immediate. There were strong overtones of relief in his thought voice. Where are you? Are you safe?
Her report was concise but comprehensive. When she had finished, she asked him to arrange an escort of Imperials, if he could, and Owl agreed to try. She had just broken contact when one of Dedemar's men arrived with their supper.
***
Owl pushed his fingers through his hair. "They're all right," he told Cithanekh. "Lynx and Marhysse. They're in the barracks of the Temple Watch. Thyzhecci is dead and the Temple District is on the verge of riot. Mouse and Ferret got away into the Slums, so Lynx thinks they are probably safe, as well. Do you think we can persuade Donkey to send some Imperials to the Temple District to fetch our bodyguards home?"
"Probably," Cithanekh replied. "But Owl, how did Thyzhecci die—and did they find the cage of brambles?"
"She was murdered, probably by Hassythe. It was a small throwing dagger: poisoned. Lynx says street rumor is connecting her death with the Windbringer's Temple. They didn't find the cage of brambles, but Mouse thought she convinced Thyzhecci to relinquish her hold on the death spell—but whether she actually released Kerigden before she was killed Mouse didn't know."
Cithanekh began quietly to drum his fingers.
Owl smiled. "Go ahead and pace—you'll feel better."
Cithanekh rose, striding with hectic energy around the room. "What a mess for Kerigden to wake to—Temple District riot."
"It hasn't gone quite that far yet. I could try to contact Kerigden. If he's awake, he may be too busy, and if he's still under the spell, he may be too weak, but I could try."
"Do it," the young lord advised.
Owl took several calming breaths before he opened his mind and called to Kerigden. The response was immediate, and strong.
Owl! Good. First, so you'll know: Ferret and Mouse are here. Also, Lyssemarhe Ghytteve and Klarhynne Dhenykhare—Klarhynne without Hassyth. Thyzhecci is dead—murdered, we assume, by Hassyth or one of his minions; the Temple District is poised on the edge of riot, and I am finally free of the spell.
Excellent. I'm glad to know Mouse and Ferret are safe—and Lysse. My visions had shown me she was involved, but I didn't know how. Did she rouse Klarhynne and free her from Hassyth?
Yes. We've got her under the strongest protections, so Klarhynne is safe, here; but I'm at a loss to know what we'll do with her in the long run.
I expect there will be time enough to worry about her once the threat of riot is dispelled. So you'll know, Kerigden, Lynx and Marhysse are safe in the Temple Watch's barracks, though I'm going to see whether Donkey can arrange an escort of Imperials to get them back to the Palace. Do tell Mouse and Ferret they're safe; doubtless they are concerned. Now, what can we do to be of help to you? Should we send—Owl broke off as Cithanekh touched his shoulder and spoke.
"Owl, did you hear Effryn? Arre's back and Thantor's with her. He says he needs to see us. Captain Ysmenarr has found a very damaging witness."
Owl nodded dazedly. Kerigden, I have to go. Something's come up I need to deal with. I'll contact you later.
All right, Kerigden agreed. And in the meantime, I'll consider strategies.
Owl surfaced from his silent conversation in time to hear Arre and Donkey being ushered in by Effryn. Before they had even settled into chairs, Owl began relating the afternoon's events and their aftermath. Donkey listened. He was completely silent until Owl had finished.
"This is troubling," Donkey said. "I don't believe any of Thyzhecci's priests is positioned to assume the mantle of the High Priestess without a struggle—unless (hideous thought) Hassythe herself is. Even if Kerigden is able to convince the Dark Lady's people that the Windbringer's Temple is innocent and avert riot, there will still likely be a lot of vicious infighting before a successor to Thyzhecci emerges." He turned to Cithanekh. "If you'll give me pen and paper, I'll send a note to Bhenekh and get him to retrieve Lynx and Marhysse for you."
Cithanekh fetched them. "So this damaging witness business supercedes unrest in the Temple District? It must be bad, then. Tell us."
"Ysmenarr has found a pastry cook who has sworn that he poisoned the Queen's marzipan, and that Owl bribed him to do it." Thantor said. "I'm required to place you under house arrest, Owl. You are forbidden to leave the Ghytteve complex; I've placed two Imperials on guard to ensure you remain here."
"But—" Owl began, then broke off helplessly. "I didn't bribe anyone."
"We know that," Arre said tartly. "But you know Kheth. He's trying to appear impartial until we can trip this fellow up in his lies. Do you think we could look at the bodyguards' duty logs, Cithanekh? If we can find even one instance where Owl can't have been where this pastry cook says he was, Kheth will suppress the charges."
"Does he doubt me, Arre?" Owl asked very quietly.
"No. But he doubts himself. I think he is afraid that if he intervenes this time purely on the strength of his convictions, without some objective evidence, that the next time it will be easier for him to override his scruples; and the time after that, it will be easier still, until he is in truth ruling by whim and Royal fiat."
"I'd be more inclined to trust Khethyran's whim and Royal fiat than the Council Houses' version of law and justice," Cithanekh remarked sourly.
"Or the courts'," Owl concurred.
"So would I," Arre agreed. "But you know Kheth. Can we see the logs?"
"By all means," Cithanekh responded. "I'll get Cezhar and Rhan to help you."
"I wonder," Owl said slowly, "whether Klarhynne Dhenykhare knows anything about the poisoning—and whether, with Hassythe vanquished, she would be willing to tell us."
"She will be questioned," Donkey assured him, "once the situation in the Temple District—" He broke off. Arre, Donkey and Cithanekh exchanged horrified looks, while Owl put the sudden thought in words.
"Unless the violence in the Temple District is directed at her: a way to silence her without it looking like that's what's happening."
"No!" Cithanekh exclaimed. "Surely we're jumping at shadows. She hasn't been under Talyene's protection long enough for them even to know she's missing, surely."
Owl shrugged. "What if Hassythe could sense it when her control was broken?"
"Riot's a clumsy weapon," Arre pointed out.
"But effective, especially if one has more than one objective to be served," Owl remarked bleakly. "I don't like this."
"Any chance those Imperials could get Klarhynne and Lysse out when they go in to fetch the others?" Arre suggested doubtfully.
"No," Cithanekh, Donkey and Owl said together.
"You'd need more than three hentes," Donkey went on. "And a show of Imperial force would be more likely to precipitate violence than to calm it—especially if someone is inciting the disturbance for their own motives.
Arre, let's look at the duty log—if you'll excuse us?"
Without waiting for Cithanekh's gesture of assent, Donkey and Arre went off to find Cezhar and Rhan.
Cithanekh returned to Owl's side, put his hands on the Seer's shoulders and tried to knead some of the tension out of them. "Owl, are you all right?"
"I have to be, don't I? It's all right, Cithanekh; I'm a tough little Slum-rat. I'm just grateful the Emperor's scruples didn't insist on my being sent to the dungeons again."
"Trust Arre and Thantor. They'll find something in the duty logs."
"Perhaps. This time. But when will it end? Someday, Cithanekh, our enemies are going to find me insufficiently protected, or they'll concoct some poison of lies and bribery for which we can't find an antidote—and then what?"
"Trust him, Owl. Trust the Emperor."
"I do. I try. But Cithanekh, I am terribly afraid."
Cithanekh continued his patient kneading of Owl's muscles. "Gods above and below, Owl," he whispered at last, "so am I."
***
The flickering lamplight in the barracks room cast peculiar shadows on Marhysse's face as Lynx looked over at her. "Owl says that Thantor is sending Imperials for us."
"Well, that's something. Good for him."
"He also says he's been placed under house arrest. Apparently, Captain Ysmenarr found someone who has admitted to poisoning the Queen's marzipan—and who accuses Owl of bribing him to do it."
Marhysse hissed. "Ugly. I wonder where Owl's enemies found someone willing to die for his perjury? It's nonsense, of course. And house arrest; that's better than the dungeon."
"Far better," Lynx agreed.
"But I don't like it. I know the nobles are afraid of Owl, but this seems extreme, somehow. What could motivate someone to die for their perjury?"
"Perhaps he has a family they are holding hostage."
"I suppose, but it seems like a lot of trouble—and risk. I wonder if it's possible that he's a fanatical follower of the Bone King," Marhysse offered, "honored to die for the cause."
Lynx's eyes narrowed, as though she were trying to bring some distant object into focus. After a moment, she said, "Your sister Lyssemarhe is in the Windbringer's Temple with Klarhynne Dhenykhare."
Marhysse whistled. "How did that happen?"
"She found Klarhynne, unconscious; and when she roused her, Klarhynne entreated her to take her to sanctuary. Lysse took her to the Windbringer."
"So now my little sister is trapped—even more firmly than we are—by Temple District unrest." She sighed.
"Mouse and Ferret are there, too. If anything happens, Marhysse, your sister will be well looked after."
"Thank you. It's useful, isn't it: your being able to speak mind to mind?"
Lynx nodded. "But it is not without its limitations. Distance makes it harder—sometimes impossible; and if I have counted on being able to reach Owl, and can't, it could be disastrous."
They fell silent. Marhysse took a straw from the mattress and began to play with the lamp flame, but Lynx sat still as an effigy, her expression distant and inscrutable. Finally, she broke the silence.
"I think if you want to see Sakhass's face when the Imperials arrive, we'd better go down to the duty desk."
They found their way easily through the warren of barracks. As they approached the place, they heard voices. The first, unfamiliar, was saying, "—sent to fetch the two Ghytteve bodyguards, Lynx and Marhysse."
The answering voice was Captain Sakhass's. "Why on earth would you imagine there are Ghytteve bodyguards here?"
"I'm not imagining, Captain Sakhass—I am merely following my orders, which are to retrieve the two women from you and escort them back to the Palace. Are you telling me they aren't here?"
"No. They are here. But I do wonder how you knew that."
"I don't know anything, Captain. I'm following my orders."
Lynx and Marhysse exchanged glances before they walked into the room.
"Oh, there you are," Marhysse said airily. "Whatever took you so long, Sergeant?"
"I came as soon as I had the orders," the Imperial Sergeant said a little stiffly.
"Oh well. Better late than never. Let's go, then. Thank you for your hospitality, Captain Sakhass."
"You're very welcome, ladies," he said blandly, though his eyes were hard and speculative.
The walk through the dark streets was uneventful. Their escort delivered them to the door of the Ghytteve complex and Lynx and Marhysse went in to report.
Chapter Thirty-three—Temple War
The Windbringer's guest quarters provided simple comfort. Lysse, Mouse and Ferret were given a room together. An acolyte brought them warm water for washing, and later returned with a tray of bread, cheese, fruit and coffee.
Mouse poured coffee while Ferret cut bread and cheese, but when they tried to give a share to Lysse, she looked at the food with revulsion.
"You'd better eat something," Mouse advised. "This may be the last meal we see for a while, if things get out of hand."
"I can't," Lysse protested.
"Try," Ferret said. "Take a small bite and chew it carefully."
At their insistence, Lysse ate a little bit, and then a bit more. "How do you bear it?" she asked. "Not knowing what will happen?"
Mouse shrugged. "We never do know what will happen, until it does. It's just in times like these that we realize it—and that we imagine it matters, since we don't know what to expect."
"Don't you know what to expect?" she appealed to the older women.
"Not really," Ferret replied. "In the broadest terms, there will either be violence, or there won't be. What happens now depends upon the people of the Dark Lady's Temple—and on whether someone is manipulating them for her or his own ends."
Lysse managed to eat a little more of her bread. "You sound so matter-of-fact. Aren't you worried at all?"
"What purpose does worry serve?" Mouse asked gently. "Is riot less likely to happen if I fret myself gray-haired over it?"
"We worry," Ferret remarked wryly. "We're just better at hiding it. And Mouse is right: it does no good—" She broke off, her head jerking up at the sudden noises: a crash and a hubbub of voices. She got to her feet, setting her coffee cup down. "I think I'll go see what's happening."
Mouse got up, too, hastily. "Do you want to come with us, Lysse, or wait here?"
She put the rest of her bread back on the tray, her eyes huge and frightened. "I'll come."
They slipped into the hallway and, Ferret leading, made their way toward the sounds. The noises drew them back toward the main sanctuary, but before they entered the cavernous space, Ferret stopped, pressed herself against the corridor wall, and gestured for them to do the same. "Listen!" she whispered. "The crashes sound like breaking glass or pottery, but though I hear shouts, I don't hear cries of pain or sounds of resistance. It sounds like the Windbringer's people aren't defending their statuary."
"Such restraint," Mouse remarked. "So if we show up in the middle of it, are we likely to sway the balance towards calm or violence?
Ferret spread her hands helplessly. "Shall we creep back to our room to wait and see what happens?"
"No," Mouse admitted with a strange smile. "I think I'd rather trust the Lady Windbringer to make some use of us—if she will."
"Oh Windbringer, guide us," Lyssemarhe whispered, scarcely audible.
A breath of summer-scented air gusted past them into the hall. Mouse and Ferret exchanged startled glances. "Come on," Ferret murmured. "This way."
The sanctuary, dimly lit and alive with shadows, lacked its usual peace. They could see a group of the Dark Lady's people, armed, who were noisily wreaking havoc among the statuary and Temple vessels. On the other side of the hall, there was a knot of Windbringer priests who watched in silence, their empty hands open and spread in acquiescence. While Mouse and Ferret stood still for a moment, striving to sort voices and words out of the tangle of shouts, Lyssemarhe walked unhesitatingly toward the ne
arest of the Dark Lady's priestesses. The woman's sword was raised for a sweeping blow at a tall crystal vase full of fresh flowers. When she saw Lyssemarhe, she hesitated.
"Why are you doing this?" Lysse asked. "What purpose does it serve?"
"Out of my way, girl," she said angrily. "The Windbringer's people must pay for the wrong they've dealt us."
"What wrong?" Lysse demanded. "And who told you it was the Windbringer's people who wronged you?"
The woman didn't answer; instead she swung her sword and Lysse leapt backward to avoid the sweep of the blade and the crystal shards in its wake. Ferret caught the girl by her shoulders and dragged her out of the priestess's path.
"Are you trying to provoke them, Lyssemarhe?" the thief demanded as she towed her relentlessly and rapidly toward the silent priests. "If one of them hurts you, do you think any of those priests will be able to stand by and watch?"
"But this is senseless. They don't have any reason to be angry with the Windbringer. I was just trying to explain, to bring them to their senses."
"But there are reasons for their anger, little one," one of the older priests said, laying a hand gently on Lysse's shoulder. She was surprised to recognize Assakh. "Even if we had nothing to do with Thyzhecci's death, there is a long, bitter history of rivalry among all the Temples. When something happens to stir up the feelings, they are too powerful to yield to gentle reason."
"Then what do you hope to gain by watching them destroy your sanctuary?" Lysse demanded angrily.
Assakh smiled sadly. "Ornaments are easier to replace and of less value than lives, child. If they vent their rage on our things, and we do nothing to redirect their anger against our people, we are hoping they will be content and go away."
"And if they're not content and don't go away, that's why you gave out the quarter staves?"
He nodded.
"Do you think it's likely they'll just go away?"
His expression was grave as he looked down into her face. "No," he said at last. "Listen to what they are shouting. There is someone—or many—doing a great deal to keep the tempers high."