Chapter XXIX #3
Fia sounded troubled, and the Priest wanted nothing more than to go to her and gather both her and Justus in his arms. Instead, he stayed as he was, straight-backed and unyielding.
“No. If I pardon Ariana, or create the opportunity for her to escape under my watch, Hadrian will withdraw his support and give it to whoever rises up against me. That will mean losing the cloister as well, no matter how you plead with Dolenza—she’ll hardly embroil her sorias in a civil war after two centuries of surviving through a policy of noninvolvement.
And you may trust Nikolau, but I don’t trust him enough to assume he’d stand by a losing proposition, nor would I expect him to.
The fact is, Fia, we will purchase Justus’s life and future with Ariana’s death.
She knows it, I’m sure. And I know her. She would willingly pay the blood price for his kingship, and for peace in Honoria. ”
The Priest’s very spirit felt bruised as he spoke the last. Orden’s little star, who had struggled so hard to keep her king alive against impossible odds. Surely, the despair she felt now was all-consuming. She must long for some release, even that which came at the end of a blade.
So the Priest would tell himself, and call the coming sacrifice mercy, so that he might survive the making of it.
“Stop it,” Fia said, her voice ringing out imperiously from where she sat with the infant king. “The only reason I’m still on this mountain is because I couldn’t stand to see Ariana Inver come to grief. If you think I will watch another soria be slaughtered on your altar, you don’t know me at all.”
Gathering Justus up, Fia began to prowl the length of the room. It was such a characteristic response that the Priest wanted, once again, to put his arms around her. But she’d hate to be touched, with her temper boiling over.
“I stayed here for Ariana,” Fia said. “I came back here for Ariana. I will not let my time on this mountain end with her death, even if she’s reconciled herself to it, because I haven’t.
I refuse to accept the inevitable. Let fate come against me in full force if it will—I won’t waver.
I’ll leave here with all, or with nothing. ”
“That’s a dangerous game,” the Priest warned. “Wisdom lies in understanding when you’ve done all you can, and when you ought to retreat. It’s how you stay alive.”
Fia stopped her pacing bare inches from him. “I don’t want to just stay alive any longer. I want to be whole, and happy. I can’t do that knowing I failed our queen.”
“Do you think I’d be whole and happy with her dead?
” the Priest asked. “Every soria that’s been killed in our sanctuary still haunts it, and I’m the one who tends the altars.
To be faced each day with Ariana’s spirit, knowing she died at my hands because I couldn’t save her, will be a little death on its own. ”
Silence fell, during which the Priest could feel Fia working over the problem, setting her ferocious wit to bear on it.
“You told me once that if you had enough time, you could spare someone meant for a blood sacrifice,” Fia said at last. “That’s what we’ll do now. To the Invers, Ari will be dead. We’ll get her out of Inverlyn, and she’ll be just another homeless Corrinian, free to go where she wills.”
Pain unraveled inside the Priest. “To save Ariana at the altar, we’d need a newly dead body.
A match for her. She has the look of a Corrinian, and she’s short and slight as a girl—think what that would mean, Fia.
I might have been able to do what’s needed before I met you or her, but I can’t now. And I can’t ask someone else to do it.”
“Nikolau—” Fia began sharply, but the Priest cut her off.
“Would you really do that to him? It’s one thing for him to stand against those who oppose you, when both of them are men known for doing murder.
But this would mean asking for the killing of an innocent soul, undertaken in cold blood.
Could you truly put that on someone else?
And do you think Ariana would want you to? ”
“Of course not,” Fia admitted, and the Priest hated to hear defeat in her voice.
Fia crossed the room to Justus’s bassinet and laid the sleeping king down inside it.
“If it helps,” the Priest said, “you swore an oath to owe me an unequivocal debt that must be paid at my discretion. I’ll bring it to bear now—make you promise to stand by and let this happen. Then all the fault for Ariana’s death will be mine.”
“No,” Fia answered vehemently. “If you use my oath on that, I’ll never forgive you. How long do I have before Justus is crowned and you’re officially made regent?”
“Not long. I can wait two days at most. It needs to be done soon, to ensure a strong showing of new power keeps the provincial nobles quiet.”
And Afon away from our borders, the Priest thought to himself, though he had no intention of troubling Fia with that knowledge yet.
“Then give me those two days,” Fia begged, and if hearing her sound defeated had hurt, having her plead was all but unbearable. “I’ll find a way.”
The Priest nodded. “Two days. If anyone can save Ariana, it’s you.”