Part 47 (1/2)
”Come now. now. And that's an order, Lieutenant!” And that's an order, Lieutenant!”
Kilian swung his legs off the bed and slung his jacket over his shoulders.
”Have you been drinking?”
”I'm off duty. Is it forbidden to drink off duty?”
Friard shot him a hard, disapproving look. ”And tidy yourself up. You're a disgrace to the order.” As he set off, Kilian slouching behind, he couldn't help but ask himself what had caused Kilian to change from a smart, keen-eyed officer to this dull-eyed, unshaven shadow since he had returned from Muscobar. Guilty conscience? If Kilian felt even a drop of guilt about what he had done, maybe there was still hope, Friard thought, marching him briskly across the rainswept courtyard.
The guttering torch in the pa.s.sageway outside the cell cast just enough light for Jagu to be able to see what they had done to his left hand. Only he didn't want to look. He didn't need to look. He knew from the dull, throbbing, grinding pain that his flesh had been slowly crushed and twisted in Visant's Glove until every bone in his fingers had been broken beyond repair.
He drew in a slow, sobbing breath.
The swollen pulpy ma.s.s that had once moved so nimbly over the keys of the fortepiano had been swathed in b.l.o.o.d.y bandages.
And Visant had promised him that the next day they would apply the Glove to his right hand. Unless he agreed to testify against Celestine.
”You were with her in Azhkendir,” Visant had said, his face expressionless. ”You know her secrets. All you have to do to spare yourself more pain is to tell us what you know.”
”b.a.s.t.a.r.ds,” he whispered into the night. He wanted to sleep, if only to blot out the thoughts and fears clamoring in his mind. But every time he dropped into an uneasy doze, the pain needled him awake again.
By the torchlight, Friard could see Jagu lying on his side on the narrow cell bed, his head turned away from the bars confining him, his body curled self-protectively in on itself.
Kilian made to turn away, but Friard gripped hold of him and forced him to stay where he was.
”Look,” Friard said quietly. ”Look at what you've done. Have you seen his hand, or what's left of it?”
Kilian said nothing. He just stared, his face unmoving.
”Is this what you wanted? Is this really what you wanted?”
”Shut up!” Kilian said through his teeth. And, twisting free of Friard's grip, he strode away down the corridor.
”Faie!” Celestine's whispers became increasingly urgent, echoing around the cell in which the Guerriers had confined her. Celestine's whispers became increasingly urgent, echoing around the cell in which the Guerriers had confined her. ”Faie, wake up. I need you. Please!” ”Faie, wake up. I need you. Please!”
”Shut your mouth, witch!” The jailer had come to open the grille of her cell; two Inquisition Guerriers stood behind him. ”She's been going on and on like that all night,” he said confidentially. ”Calling on her familiar spirit like that. It shouldn't be allowed.” He spat.
”They're ready for you now,” said one of the Guerriers impa.s.sively.
They hurried her along the winding pa.s.sageways of the prison wing of the Forteresse until they reached one of the interrogation rooms. Inside, seated at a table, she saw three men. In the center, she recognized the lean features and incisive gaze of Haute Inquisitor Visant. Beside him sat Maistre Donatien, and at the end of the table, a secretary, surrounded by files and dossiers overspilling with papers.
”Celestine de Joyeuse,” said Visant. ”Is that your name? Or should we use your true name: de Maunoir?”
”Please, can you tell me how her majesty is?” Celestine burst out.
”You place a spell on Queen Adele, and then you have the audacity to ask how she's faring?”
”There was no spell. That's a vile lie Maistre Donatien made up to slander me.”
Donatien gave a small, offended grunt, but said nothing.
”So now you're accusing Maistre Donatien of being a liar? That's a very serious allegation.”
”I love the queen and I would gladly give my own life to protect her.” Celestine stared defiantly back at Visant. ”If you check my record as a Guerrier and agent of the Commanderie, you'll see the proof. Jagu and I defended their majesties against the magi of Ondhessar.”
”I have indeed checked your record and it makes for disturbing reading. The Commanderie has been nursing a viper in its bosom. Well, Maistre de Lanvaux may have been lax enough to turn a blind eye to your misdemeanors, but he is no longer here to protect you from the Inquisition's justice.”
The door to the interrogation chamber opened and a Rosecoeur guard came in. ”We've brought the other prisoner as you requested, Inquisitor.”
”Very good.” Visant nodded. ”Make him stand there. Where the demoiselle can see her accomplice.”
And then, to Celestine's distress, she heard the clank of chains and recognized the prisoner that the guards had escorted.
”Jagu!” The cry was wrung from her. ”Oh Jagu, what have they done to you?”
The sight alone of the bloodstained bandages was almost more than she could bear. And the awkward way in which he carried his hand, holding it close to himself as if he couldn't risk anyone even brus.h.i.+ng against it, let her know how serious the wound was. But when he heard her voice and raised his head slowly, blinking as if the light was too bright, she saw him make an effort to control himself.
”Celestine,” he said in a voice that was twisted with pain. His face looked grey, haggard in the cold light. ”Why did you come? You knew it was a trap.”
She wanted to run to him, but the Guerriers gripped her so firmly that she could not break free.
”What a touching scene,” said Visant dryly. ”The two miscreants who betrayed the order, reunited to hear their sentences.”
”Our sentences?” Jagu's head whipped up. ”When was there a trial?”
”There was no need for a trial,” said Maistre Donatien smoothly. ”As Grand Maistre of the Commanderie, I have it in my power to deal with such cases as I see fit. As you were discovered in flagrante in flagrante and neither one of you has denied the fact, we need no further proof that you have both broken your vow of celibacy.” He opened an ancient bound volume and read aloud from a yellowed page of vellum. ”In the rules of our order, as set down by Saint Argantel himself, it says, 'Any Guerrier who breaks his vow must be cast out of the order so that his sin does not bring dishonor on his fellow knights.'” and neither one of you has denied the fact, we need no further proof that you have both broken your vow of celibacy.” He opened an ancient bound volume and read aloud from a yellowed page of vellum. ”In the rules of our order, as set down by Saint Argantel himself, it says, 'Any Guerrier who breaks his vow must be cast out of the order so that his sin does not bring dishonor on his fellow knights.'”
Celestine heard Donatien p.r.o.nounce the words as if from very far away; all her attention was centered on Jagu, knowing how much Donatien's bluntness would shame him. But Jagu stood silent, un-moving, accepting. Surely that can't be all? Surely that can't be all? she wondered as Donatien closed Saint Argantel's Rules. she wondered as Donatien closed Saint Argantel's Rules.
”By the power vested in me as Grand Maistre of the Order of Saint Sergius,” Donatien announced, ”Celestine de Maunoir, Jagu de Rustephan, I hereby strip you both of your rank of lieutenant. And because you have both brought shame on the order by using the Forbidden Arts, I call upon the Haute Inquisitor to p.r.o.nounce sentence upon you.”
Visant stared first at Jagu and then at Celestine. ”The penalty for using the Forbidden Arts is death. Death by fire to cleanse and purge any traces of evil that may remain in your bodies. And may your deaths be a warning to anyone foolish enough to contemplate using alchymy or sorcery. The executions will take place tomorrow in the Place du Trahoir.”
”Wait!” Celestine cried out. ”Jagu isn't a magus! He's never used the Forbidden Arts. Why does he have to die?”
”Never used the Forbidden Arts?” Visant turned to her, a triumphant smile on his lips. ”Then how do you explain the magus's mark on his left wrist?”
”A magus marked him; it's a sign of control.” She was shocked that Visant should use the mark against Jagu in such a devious way.
”So for all these years, a magus's puppet has been a trusted officer in the Commanderie? Who knows what mischief this man has already been compelled to do by his master?”
”It's no use, Celestine.” At last Jagu spoke, and the sad, loving look that he gave her made her heart ache. ”They'll just twist anything we say to their advantage.”
”But how can we be sentenced to death without a proper trial?” Celestine was not ready to concede without a fight. Why, at the very moment she needed her help the most, was the Faie silent?
The patter of spring rain on the windowpane was the first thing that Adele became aware of as she drifted awake. A soft, grey-hued spring light infused her bedchamber, and for a while she lay half between sleep and waking, as if floating high above the palace. And then she heard a sigh and realized that she was not alone. Ilsevir was sitting by the fireside, reading through a bundle of papers.