“It doesn't matter,” R'shiel insisted. “All that matters is that we do something about it, about everything - Loclon, the Kariens, all of it. I can't do anything about finding the answers I need until they've been taken care of.”
“Did you ride in here with your eyes shut, R'shiel?”
“I never said I thought it was going to be easy, Garet,” she said. “But it is necessary.”
The commandant nodded slowly. “Very well. But if you want me to cooperate, then I ask... no I demand... two things.”
“You're not in a position to demand anything, Garet.”
“Nevertheless, I will demand them. If you don't wish to heed me, then I'll just throw myself on my sword now, and save the Kariens the trouble of hanging me.”
R'shiel obviously meant to object, but Brak cut in before she could say anything. “What do you want, Commandant?”
“First, I want your promise that you will listen to me. I haven't been sitting here idly while the Kariens overrun Medalon. I have the men we need in the places we need them and the authority to mobilise them. But if we're to do this successfully, then timing is critical. I don't want anyone - specifically you, R'shiel - going off on a tangent because of some noble pagan purpose I don't give a damn about and ruining it for the rest of us. I don't care about your destiny, the Harshini or the rebels. I don't even want to know what you're looking for in the archives. Is that clear?”
“I think that's fair. And the second thing?” Brak asked before R'shiel could get a word in.
“I want to disband the Sisterhood.”
They both stared at him.
“Disband the Sisterhood? Why?”
“I'm surprised you of all people have to ask, R'shiel. It's a corrupt and destructive form of government. They may have started out with the right intentions, but what drives them now is nothing more than the quest for personal power. The Sisters of the Blade that led us into this mess. When we take the Citadel, we take the power out of the hands of the Sisterhood and place it with the Defenders.”
“So you want to replace one form of oppressive rule with another?” Brak asked wryly.
“No. Eventually, we'll hold elections. The people of Medalon should be allowed to vote for who they want to lead them, not leave the choice to a handful of women who are trained from childhood to believe they are better than everybody else. We'll put Jenga in charge until we've cleared out the Kariens and we can organise a vote. He has enough honour to see that it's done properly.”
R'shiel gazed at him suspiciously. “How long have you been planning this, Garet?”
“The destruction of the Sisterhood? Since the day I learnt of the burning of a small village in the Sanctuary Mountains called Haven,” he told her.
For a moment she said nothing.
“You come from Haven.” It was more a statement of fact than a question; a sudden acceptance of his motives, an understanding of what drove him. He felt as if, on some unconscious level, she had forgiven him.
“Your real family was killed in that raid, R'shiel. So were mine.”
“I never knew you were Mountain Folk.”
“Why should you? I've been a Defender for as long as you've known me.”
“Then you've known all along who I really was?”
He shook his head. “You were born long after I left Haven. But I knew your mother, J'nel. And B'thrim, her sister.”
“What were they like?”
He smiled, partly in remembrance, and partly because of the expression on R'shiel's face. For all her deeds, for all her awesome power, there was still a part of the child she had been lurking deep inside her, desperate for reassurance.
“B'thrim I remember as being a rather large, over-protective woman who would chase us with a skinning knife if ever she caught us robbing her traps in the woods. J'nel was the complete opposite. She was small and fragile and wild. We used to call her the Snow Child. She was never happier than when she was lost in the woods. As a boy, I was part of more than one search party sent to find her. She was the sort of person who could coax wild rabbits to sit on her lap. I never knew anyone like her. It doesn't surprise me in the least that she caught the eye of a Harshini King.”
R'shiel closed her eyes for a moment and he exchanged a look with Brak.
“When did you leave Haven?” Brak asked.
“I was fourteen. The life of a woodcutter didn't particularly appeal to me so I ran away to Testra. That's when I discovered that knowing how to live off the land in no way prepared one for living in a city. I was caught stealing food by a Defender lieutenant. He gave me the choice to join up or be sent to the Grimfield. So I joined the Defenders. The lieutenant put in a good word for me and I was accepted into the Cadets. I've not been back to Haven since.”
“You were lucky to meet someone so generous,” Brak remarked.
Garet nodded. “I was. And I still owe him. His name was Palin Jenga.”
R'shiel's eyes opened wide. “Then you have a debt to pay, as well as vengeance to seek.”
He nodded. “Which is why I insist on both my demands being met. I don't intend to let your hidden agenda ruin mine. I will never have another chance at this. Do we have a deal?”
R'shiel glanced up at Brak who was standing behind her. The Harshini nodded slightly and she turned back to him.
“Yes, Garet. We have a deal.”
CHAPTER 37
Garet Warner arranged a meeting with those officers who were with him in his desire to overthrow both the Kariens and the Sisters of the Blade. R'shiel was surprised when she saw them. There were quite a few familiar faces - classmates of Tarja's and other senior officers who she would never have expected to harbour such treasonous ambitions. She was certain every Defender in the Citadel wanted to be free of Karien occupation, but it was a little disturbing to learn how many of these men were willing to destroy the Sisterhood.
They met in a room at the back of the Grey Widow Inn in Tavern Street, slipping in one at a time to avoid raising the suspicions of the Karien soldiers who now frequented the place. The windows were covered against the night with shabby woven curtains and the lanterns that flickered in their yellow glass flutes gave the room an air of conspiracy. When they were finally assembled, Garet locked the door and turned to face them. There were fifteen Defenders present, every one of them an officer and not one ranked below captain. Brak and R'shiel were the only civilians.
“I'm not going to bother with introductions,” he began. “If you don't know each other's names, then it's probably better that it stays that way. The only people who need introduction are these two. Most of you know R'shiel. Her friend is called Brak.”
“Can we trust them?” an officer asked, one R'shiel did not know.
“They wouldn't be here otherwise.”
The Defender nodded and made no further comment.
“I take it this meeting means that we've decided to make our move,” another man remarked.
Garet nodded. “We begin at dawn on Restday.”
“That doesn't give us much time,” someone else pointed out. R'shiel knew the voice, but could not put a face to it.
“That's the whole point,” Garet replied. “Once we leave this room tonight, we will have to take others into our confidence. Every additional person who learns of this plot increases our chances of discovery. The less time between now and when we strike the better.”
“I know we've discussed this before,” a young man near the back of the room commented, “but even if we can take the Citadel, that still leaves the Karien army camped outside our gates.”
“And there's the priests to contend with, too,” his companion added with concern. “I don't believe in their tales of magic, but I was on the northern border when their army attacked. I know what I saw there.”