Bathed and fed, Loclon began to feel better now he knew he was safely within the walls of Mistress Heaner's house. His only care was to hide until he could escape the Citadel.
Later that evening, Mistress Heaner came to his room. When she opened the door Loclon noted, with some alarm, that Lork was on guard outside, standing there with that implacable, witless expression that seemed to respond only to Mistress Heaner. There was a boy of about twelve with her, with sandy hair and a sly, but beautifully innocent face. Loclon remembered him as one of Mistress Heaner's more exotic playthings. Lork closed the door behind them and the boy carried the tray he was holding to the small table beside the bed. The tempting smell of roasted meat escaped from under the domed cover on the plate.
“The Defenders have control of the Citadel,” she told him as she lit the lamp. “They've imposed a curfew until tomorrow at sunrise. You can go now, Alladan.”
“Who's the new First Sister?” he asked with a twinge of professional jealousy as the boy slipped silently from the room.
“There isn't one,” the old woman shrugged. “Nor will there be, if you believe the rumours.”
“You mean the Defenders have taken over the Citadel? Without the Sisterhood?”
“So it would seem. I hear Garet Warner masterminded the whole thing. That's not surprising. He's a slimy little bastard. Jenga's dead though,” she added, with no more emotion than she might tell him of a change in the weather.
Loclon felt no remorse over the loss of the Lord Defender. “So Warner's in charge?”
“He'll probably name himself Lord Defender in the morning.”
“I have to get out of the Citadel.”
Mistress Heaner nodded. “Squire Mathen left instructions in case something like this happened. You're to be taken to Karien.”
Loclon's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because you were the First Sister. You have information the Kariens will need to take back the Citadel.”
“There's a hundred thousand men outside the walls. They don't need me.”
“The Defenders are holding all the dukes hostage. There is an army out there, certainly, but no one to lead them.”
She spoke matter-of-factly; as if she were repeating some idle gossip about a neighbour, not telling him that his entire world was falling apart.
“Then she's still here?”
“Who? R'shiel? Oh yes, she's still in the Citadel.”
“She wants to kill me.”
“So would every Defender in the Corps, if he knew what you'd done,” Mistress Heaner pointed out with infuriating smugness. “Fortunately for you, your brothers-in-arms don't believe in magic, therefore they're not likely to seek vengeance for an act they cannot conceive.”
“Can you get me out of here?”
She smiled. It was a cold, calculating smile. It made him shudder.
“For a price.”
“How much?”
“It's bad manners to discuss such things over a meal,” she replied, glancing around to ensure everything was to her satisfaction. She had put him in the Blue Room. The hint was not lost on Loclon. This was where he had killed that whore... what was her name? Peny? This was the room where Mistress Heaner found the leverage she needed to turn him into a traitor. “We'll talk about it later.”
“How am I going to get out of the Citadel?” he asked, lifting the cover off the platter and nodding appreciatively. He was starving.
“Through the gate, how else?”
“But isn't it closed against the Kariens?”
“For the moment. They're opening it in the morning to let the Kariens go.”
Loclon looked up from the plate with astonishment. “They're letting them go?”
“They seem to think we're going to be under siege for quite some time,” Mistress Heaner shrugged. “They've told the Kariens they can leave and anyone else who would prefer to go with them. I doubt they're planning on releasing the dukes, but they want to be rid of the rest of the Kariens. Clever thing to do, actually. A lot less mouths to feed.”
“R'shiel will be there,” Loclon predicted with dread certainty.
“Probably.”
“She'll recognise me.”
“Don't worry, Captain, we'll give the demon child something else to think about.” She walked back to the door and knocked on it twice. Lork opened it with a key. He was a prisoner, he realised with despair, but a prisoner with some value at least.
The question was: how much was Mistress Heaner going to charge?
CHAPTER 45
Tarja assigned a squad of Defenders to aid R'shiel in her search for Loclon. He even made a point of picking men who knew Loclon on sight. It was a thoughtful gesture, but not enough for R'shiel to forgive him for opening the gate. Particularly when she learnt he had ordered the men to look for Loclon, but not hinder the Karien exodus. R'shiel wanted to stop every man leaving the Citadel. She wanted to examine each soldier and knight closely, search every wagon, every sack, and every woman's purse, to ensure that Loclon did not get past her. When the officer in charge of the squad repeated his orders, R'shiel turned on her heel furiously and made her way straight to the First Sister's office.
Tarja met her rage with silent fortitude. He was wearing a new red jacket bearing the sword and shield insignia of the Lord Defender. Despite the fact that it was before sunrise, the First Sister's office was full of Defenders. They cleared a path for her warily and avoided her gaze. None of the Defenders in the office appeared concerned that Tarja had been promoted over them to the Lord Defender. They acted like men who were glad that the ultimate responsibility for their fates had been shifted to someone else. A small part of her understood how they felt. This coup was still very new, and although they controlled the Citadel, Medalon was a long way from being secure. If it fell apart on them, Tarja would bear the brunt of any reprisals.
“Garet said we could check everyone leaving the Citadel!”
“Actually, he said that we'd post extra men on the gate to see that Loclon doesn't slip past. There was never any suggestion that we would allow you to stop and search every single person trying to get through the gate.”
“There are thousands of people down there! We'll never find him!”
“Then I'm sorry, R'shiel. I've given you all the men I can spare.” His tone was implacable. It was as if he had assumed some of Jenga's dignified gravity along with his rank.
“And if I find Loclon? Your men do have orders to arrest him, don't they, my Lord Defender? Or did you want me to just give him a friendly pat on the back and wish him a safe journey?”
He frowned, impatient with her sarcasm. “Take the men I gave you, or not, R'shiel. I've neither the time nor the inclination to argue about it.”
“Is this your idea of helping me?”
“Would you care to discover what not helping you feels like?”
They glared at each other for a tense moment.
“If he gets away from me, I'll never forgive you, you know that, don't you?”
“It's getting light out there,” he said, turning his attention to his men. “If you want to be at the main gate when it opens, I suggest you get a move on.”
The wind was biting when she emerged into the light on the broad ledge that circled the towering white walls of the Citadel. R'shiel had not been up here since she was a child, when Tarja had brought her to the walls to show her the rare spectacle of the high plains covered in snow. She was only five or six years old at the time and snow on the plains, while not unheard of, was unusual enough that she had cried out with delight at the sight of it. That Joyhinia had beaten her afterwards for sneaking out with Tarja had not lessened the thrill, and she had held on to the memory as she sobbed in her room, hungry and cold, her legs throbbing from the cane. She could remember thinking that it had all been worth every savage blow. It didn't matter that she had been sent to bed without dinner. She didn't even care when Joyhinia had declared that as she seemed to like the cold so much, she could get a taste of what it really felt like in the snow and had the fire in her room extinguished and the blankets removed. It didn't matter that her legs were black and blue. She had stood on the wall-walk in the still, cold air and looked out over the countryside blanketed in white, the shallow Saran River frozen with a thin coating of ice, and thought she was standing on top of the world.