The blood drained from Josiah’s face as he listened. He opened his mouth and took a step toward Mathir, but Elkan put up a hand. “Mathir, is this true?”
Mathir shot Josiah a glance he couldn’t read, then met Elkan’s eyes again. “Yes, but… it was Josiah’s idea. With the cutbacks in the apprentice allowances, none of us had any money. He said it was only fair for them to give us extra, when we’d be doing them such a big favor.”
All eyes turned to Josiah. He fought the urge to blurt out a denial until Elkan’s perfectly emotionless voice asked him, “Josiah, is that true?”
“No!” Josiah wanted to shout, and shake Master Jomin by the shoulders, and punch Mathir in the stomach. But he knew none of that would convince Elkan of his innocence. The opposite, probably. Only calm, reasoned denial would have any sway with his master. He forced his voice down until it only shook a little with the force of his suppressed anger. “I never said anything to Mathir about asking for bribes. He came up with that on his own.” A memory stirred, and his certainty faltered for a moment. “Wait… I think I said something to him about how desperate Master Jomin seemed, and how I thought he was going to offer you money. Maybe that gave him the idea.” He felt queasy. “But I never suggested he should take him up on the offer!”
Elkan’s eyes were dark and merciless. Josiah didn’t know whether his master believed him or not. He wound his fingers in Sar’s mane.
Sar, you know I’m telling the truth, don’t you?
I know nothing but what I witness, or what the Mother reveals to me.
Ask her, she’ll tell you. Or open a window.
But they were much too far away from where all this had happened for a window to reach.
Please Sar, you have to believe me. You can’t— I know if it were true, you’d have to break our bond, but please, you can’t do that, it’s not—
I will make no judgment one way or the other without proof.
Josiah had to be content with that. Sar didn’t soften his attitude, but at least he wasn’t going to sever their bond just yet. There had to be some way he could prove his innocence. They’d be going back to Elathir eventually. Then everyone could see the truth.
One by one Elkan questioned each of the other patients. All of them repeated Master Jomin’s story, that Mathir had approached them, offered his and Josiah’s help, and asked for money as a proof of their need. All of them had agreed to his terms. Josiah wondered bitterly how many others Mathir had sought out. Were there folk dead in Elathir right now because they’d refused to pay?
He hadn’t even offered Josiah a share of the money. He must have known Josiah wouldn’t have taken it, and would probably have reported him to his master and his familiar. Josiah took a certain comfort in that. Not that it made him feel any better.
Nina crept over to Hanion. She looked as limp and bedraggled as when water plastered her fur to her skin. Hanion took one hand off Mavke and extended it to her. She crawled up his arm, and he cupped her against his chest.
Elkan ran a hand through his hair. His gazed traveled over everyone, the group of patients, Mathir and Josiah, the cluster of watching wizards. He came over to Hanion and put a hand on his shoulder. “I defer to you in this matter. What do you want to do?”
Hanion gave Mavke a last caress and rose, careful not to jostle Nina. “I don’t see we have much choice. Nothing can be settled until we return to Elathir.”
Elkan nodded. “I agree. You and I can take our apprentices and the patients back, and the rest can go on. They’ll have to take care of as many fields as they can without us. It won’t be enough, but it will have to do.”
“No, wait!” Josiah knew he should keep quiet, but he couldn’t help protesting. “You can’t do that! We can still help with the blight. A window will be able to show the truth for a whole year. Let us work to heal the wheat and take us back to Elathir afterwards.”
Elkan jerked to face him. “Your actions and Mathir’s have made that impossible. You’ve been accused of abusing your position as a wizard. Until the truth is known, your familiars won’t give you access to the Mother’s power. People are probably going to starve before spring because of the two of you. But we have no choice but to return to Elathir, because the integrity of the Wizards’ Guild
must
be upheld. Even if people die for it. I hope you think it’s worth—” He bit off his words, breathing heavily. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sure you realize what you’ve done.”
The sheer injustice of it made Josiah’s throat close and tears sting his eyes. “I didn’t—” he choked out, but broke off. Nothing he could say would change the hurt and angry resolve in Elkan’s eyes. He wanted to bury his face in Sar’s fur, but his familiar could be no comfort. Neither of them trusted him enough to believe that the accusation was false.
It wasn’t fair. All he’d wanted was to help people. Elkan and Sar should know that.
Mathir took a step toward Hanion and extended a hand toward Nina where she huddled in the crook of his arm. “Nina, you wouldn’t refuse to help with the wheat because of a bunch of lies, would you? Give me a chance to show you I can still be a good wizard. Use up my energy, burn me out if you have to, but don’t make them take me back to Elathir and let the blight spread unchecked.”
Nina peered at him a moment, then buried her head under Hanion’s arm. Hanion jerked his head toward the fire. “Get a bite to eat, then grab your pack and mount up. We’re leaving.”
Elkan gestured for Josiah to do the same. He went over to the group of patients and spoke softly with them.
Josiah plodded over to the fire. He obtained a bowl of porridge from one of the farmers who had watched the whole thing. Her eyes were wide and curious, but she refrained from speaking to him.
There was very little talking as preparations were made for their departure. All the patients came to the main fire to eat. A few went back to their campsite to put out their fire and gather their belongings. Elkan spoke with the journeyman he was leaving in charge of the group and spent a good while going over the maps and Master Dabiel’s notes before turning them over to her. Then he and Hanion took care of healing the patients with quick, focused bursts of the Mother’s power. Josiah was glad Azien wouldn’t have to go without healing for one more day, at least. The masters would have energy to spare, since the day would be spent riding and not working.
The herders turned over the few extra horses they’d brought along to the patients, with promises to locate more from farms and herds nearby and send them along after. Until then, several of the patients rode double. Sar bore a frail older woman on his back. The sun was barely over the horizon when they set out, at the same time the rest of the wizards left to ride to the next field.
Two days of riding would bring them back to Elathir. Elkan had sent a messenger ahead for Master Dabiel to meet them there. A trial would be convened, and the truth would be shown. Josiah eagerly anticipated having his name cleared. Then maybe Sar would talk to him again, instead of turning away, stubbornly unresponsive, whenever he tried to get his familiar’s attention. But he wondered, dread in his heart, what would happen to Mathir if the window showed that the accusations against him were true.
Thirteen
“P
rofessor Navorre.” The courtier hurried across the entry hall and put his hand on Gevan’s arm. “The Matriarch would like a word with you before you leave.”
Gevan swallowed annoyance. He was tired, and his emotions were still unsettled from the events at the Dualist village. He badly wanted to get Kevessa home and return to the security of his quarters for a good night’s sleep. Even better would be to spend a few days alone in his workshop delving into the mysteries of the wizards’ powers. But he knew it would be a long time before that wish could be granted. Especially if the Matriarch had some new task to give him, as seemed likely from this summons.
He would have refused if he could. Instead, he inclined his head. “I’m at the Matriarch’s service. But I must see my daughter safely home before the hour grows much later.”
“Her business with you will only take a moment. Your daughter may accompany you. Come, her majesty awaits you in her private audience chamber.”
Kevessa’s demurely lowered eyes couldn’t hide her flash of excitement. She hadn’t yet had the opportunity to see the Matriarch any closer than across the dining hall at the evening meal. At least she would enjoy this detour. Gevan nodded his acquiescence and followed the courtier through the corridors of the palace.
The private audience chamber was a small but lushly appointed sitting room not far from the main hall. The Matriarch sat in a chair only slightly less ornate than her formal throne, though it appeared far more comfortable, with thick padding and richly embroidered upholstery. Gevan bowed, and Kevessa sank into a deep formal curtsy. The Matriarch gestured for them to take seats on the elegant couch opposite.
“What a pleasure it is to meet your lovely daughter, Gevan. My ladies report that you have become fast friends with the Tevenaran girl, my dear Kevessa.”
“I thank your majesty for the great privilege of being allowed to make Nirel’s acquaintance. I hope my poor efforts have helped make her time in Ramunna pleasant.” Every line of Kevessa’s body and every inflection of her voice bespoke the perfect attitude of respectful yet confident deference. If she was intimidated to be in the presence of Ramunna’s monarch, she didn’t betray even a hint of it, but made use of her training to project serene and effortless obeisance. Gevan swelled with pride. Kevessa was surely worthy of a place high among the nobility of Ramunna. He silently vowed that he would do everything he could to make that possible for her.
“I’m sure they have.” The Matriarch gave her an approving smile and turned back to Gevan, dismissing Kevessa from her attention as completely as if the girl had vanished. “Gevan, I will be brief, lest I keep you any longer than necessary from your rest. I’ve found your services as a translator invaluable. I consider it a blessing from the Mother that you were present when they arrived and were able to understand their language. I know such service is not your primary occupation, and I apologize that I’ve kept your from your important research for so long.”
“It’s been my pleasure to serve your majesty in whatever way is most useful to you.” Gevan tried to make his words sound sincere. But he suspected the Matriarch was quite aware of how true an assessment of his feelings her formulaic words were. Fascinating as the strangers were, he was tired of spending his hours passing other people’s words back and forth while his workshop sat empty. Any new discoveries it might provide must wait until Gevan was released from the obligation to let the servants know that Ozor desired a second helping of soup.
“I’m afraid I must keep you away from your work a while longer.” Gevan kept his sigh strictly within the confines of his mind. He’d suspected that was where the Matriarch was leading the conversation. “But perhaps the task I have for you will not be without its rewards. Tell me, Gevan, would you like to be among the first to witness the power of the wizards with your own eyes?”
Despite himself, Gevan’s pulse quickened. “I would appreciate such an opportunity, your majesty.”
She sat back, a smile crinkling the corners of her lips. “Then you will be pleased to hear that I’d like you to accompany Captain Yosiv on his voyage to Tevenar. I wish you to serve as my personal envoy to the wizards. You will bear them my greetings and conduct whatever negotiations are necessary to persuade one or more of them to return to Ramunna with you.”
Gevan had anticipated she might ask him to go along with the expedition as translator, but he’d never guessed she might appoint him her ambassador. He had to pause a moment and gather his thoughts before he could manage a reply. “I would be honored.”
The Matriarch leaned forward. “I know I can trust you to understand how important this mission is. I’m authorizing you to offer anything within my power to give. Money, goods, trading privileges, protection—whatever they desire.”
“I understand,” Gevan said.
Her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped. “And if those things are not enough to persuade them, force can be used. The might of the Armada will be at your disposal. There can be no delay. You must bring me a wizard. Whatever it takes.”
“I understand, your majesty,” Gevan repeated. His face felt cold. She expected him to threaten them with attack and conquest if they didn’t cooperate? Why did she think he’d be willing to do that?
She read his thought with the ease born of a lifetime of manipulating people to her desires. “I trust you also understand what’s at stake should you fail. Remember our earlier discussion. If I don’t have the aid of a wizard’s healing power to conceive an heir, Ramunna will come under the control of the Purifiers. They would destroy everything both you and I value.”
Gevan bowed his head. He would do almost anything to avoid that future. “I understand,” he said yet again. “I will do as your majesty commands.”
She rose, forcing Gevan to scramble to his feet as well. Beside him, Kevessa glided up as smoothly as if she’d known all along exactly when she’d be required to stand. The Matriarch nodded. “Go now and rest. In the morning you and I will meet with my stewards to discuss the particulars of what you will offer. Afterwards you will have time to make arrangements and put your affairs in order. The ship will depart the day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” Gevan bowed again, Kevessa curtsied, and the waiting courtier escorted them out of the Matriarch’s presence.
Neither of them spoke until their carriage pulled into the city streets. Kevessa sighed and leaned her head against Gevan’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you, Father.”
“And I you.” Surprisingly, Gevan found he meant it. He’d spent more time with his daughter in these past two days than he had in the previous year. He was just beginning to get to know the adult she was becoming. “I wish you could come with me.”
“We both know that’s not possible.” Kevessa looked away. Gevan wondered at the bitterness in her tone.