Chapter Fourteen
Fourteen
The Goddess’s justice must be more than a balancing. More than a price paid. It must be the paragon of their doctrines, a lesson through which the devoted and non-devoted alike learn virtue.
—FROM THE TEACHINGS OF HIGH ARBITER DIETRELIK
I ALWAYS SUSPECTED ARBITERS WERE assholes. Now I know it for sure.
One by one, the Thorn Guard yank the burlap hoods from the women, revealing their faces. Weariness monopolizes them, mingled with fear and confusion.
I can sympathize.
“The Goddess demands justice, as do their devoted. Both will have it.” Caius is clearly reveling in his control. “Choose which one will replace the heretic you killed.”
Silence follows. The women stare at the floor, defeat dragging their shoulders down as they await their fate. One, with limp hair the color of muddy water, trembles slightly. But none react or resist. They are trying to be small, invisible.
I swallow, my mouth dry. “Who are they?”
Caius shrugs. “Does it matter? Heretics, murderers, thieves… all beyond penance, all marked for the Goddess’s justice in the end.”
I cross my arms. “This is ridiculous.”
“This is the solution to the problem you created.”
“We had every right to do what we did.” Nolan speaks with bitter incredulity. “But you have no right to put us through this cruel exercise, simply because you feel slighted.”
I almost smirk at the expression that passes over Caius’s face, but something tells me that would only serve to annoy him further.
Caius stands, fingers pressing into the table so hard they turn white. “I am an Arbiter.”
“Ahem,” I say. “Assistant Arbiter.” Why annoy when I can infuriate?
It works. Caius’s cheeks flush, his eyes narrowing on me. “Choose.”
“No. She won’t,” Nolan says. “Neither will I.”
“What he said,” I add. “We’re not playing this sick little game.”
“Then you aren’t going anywhere.” Caius turns calm. Too calm. “I’ll take no pleasure in putting my blood brethren in chains, but if that’s what’s necessary, I will. You will remain here, under our power, until we can contact the Cathedral and have them sort this out with the Goddess directly.”
“Then you are a fool.” Nolan shoves away from the table and makes a move toward the door, but four of the Thorn Guard place themselves in front of it. He stops. “You can’t do this. Our orders come directly from the Goddess.”
“Your orders come from a letter,” says Caius. “Which we will simply confirm out of an abundance of caution. And, if they prove legitimate, Arbiter Gottschalk and I will make the proper apologies and reparations as needed.”
I swear silently. And then out loud. Caius and Gottschalk’s resolve leaves no room for argument.
I shouldn’t be surprised both chose dogmatic adherence to an act of devotion over common sense; that’s what we’re trained to do.
But making us choose a replacement for Magda…
The women mean nothing to him; their deaths, nothing but a treat to be fed to the devoted masses.
The absurdity of it starts something screaming within me.
Forgotten, the Princess gurgles a little, as useful a contribution as any.
“Lys.” Nolan says my name quietly, moving closer. “We don’t need to be pulled into this. No matter what Caius believes, his power in Belspire isn’t absolute.”
“No,” I say. “It’s not.” But the longer we are stuck here, the more likely we will lose any chance to find the reliquary. We can’t delay, no matter how outrageous the Arbiters’ demand is. And I’m not foolish enough to think that one of those women won’t end up dead meat anyway.
Caius frowns. “We won’t wait for—”
“Her.” I point, ignoring the churning remains of the meal in my stomach.
Caius’s gaze traces my gesture, and he smiles with the sort of satisfaction that makes me want to punch the smugness from him until he begs me to stop. “Very well.”
“Lys—” There’s worry in Nolan’s voice now. “You don’t have to—”
“It’s done.” I drop my arm. “Can we go now?”
Another long minute passes in which Caius savors his triumph. Still seated, Gottschalk is indifferent, or maybe simply content the deed is done.
Then Caius nods. “Very well. But I hope you will reconsider leaving before the festival begins. You clearly need to be reminded of the purifying power of our Goddess’s judgement.”
“Oh yeah? Take a wild guess where you can shove your purification.” I turn on my heel and charge the guards standing before the door. Wisely, they move aside, and I shove the doors open so hard they slam against the wall.
I drank too much wine. Ate too much rich food. I feel both thickening my blood, which is filling my head to overflowing. The castle blurs as a chill runs over my skin, scraping its way down my spine.
“Lys!”
Nolan’s voice, but far away. Beneath the rushing in my ears. I ignore it. Barely paying attention to where I am going, I reach a set of stairs. Stumble. Catch myself.
The ice cracks.
“Lys!” A hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Wait!”
The world snaps back into focus as I spin, tearing free.
Nolan stares down at me from a step above, eyes hard with concern, a deep furrow in his brow.
My hand aches. I look down to see a splinter piercing the pad of my palm.
A chunk is missing from the banister. Apparently, I caught myself a bit harder than necessary.
I take a deep breath and pull the bit of wood free. Blood beads. “Oops.”
The furrow deepens. “You shouldn’t have had to do that.”
The kind way he says it actually manages to chase away some of the chill.
“You shouldn’t have had to snap Magda’s neck.” Another crack echoes in memory. “We need to keep going. You dealt with her. I dealt with this. It was only fair.”
His lips thin. “There was nothing fair about it.” The words are quiet.
I don’t back away as he takes a step down so that he’s standing beside me.
Standing with me. We were supposed to be rivals.
Instead, this is the second time he’s defended me against our own brethren.
Clearly, Nolan takes our assignment to work together seriously.
“That was a decision you shouldn’t have had to make. ”
I didn’t, though. Didn’t even know which woman I was pointing at.
Because it’s easy to condemn a person if they mean nothing to you, a lesson I learned long before I arrived at the Cathedral.
I can’t tell Nolan that, though. I look away, mad at myself, at Caius and Gottschalk, and, most of all, at the Goddess who has forced us into these ruthless roles. Something warm alights on my arm.
His hand. Hesitant. An attempt at comfort, if an unpracticed one.
My cheeks flush again, but not out of anger. Definitely had too much wine.
“I want to leave.” I step away. “We have what we need. There’s no reason to stay in this rotten place any longer.”
Nolan’s hand, now consoling nothing but air, drops. “The horses need rest. We do too. We did what we needed to do. Tomorrow, we can begin again. But there’s nothing to be gained by leaving tonight.”
He’s right of course. Even though staying a minute longer makes me fantasize about tearing the castle down with my bare hands, finishing what time and neglect has already started. But I nod, swallowing my other emotions.
More anger I will put aside, store up, and save for my Butcher Goddess blood mother, Tempestra-Innara.