Blood of the Fold (Sword of Truth 3)

Ulicia surveyed the men glancing nervously over their shoulders. “Sisters of the Light have eyes in the backs of their heads, gentlemen. See that yours look nowhere else, or it will be the last thing you see in this life.” Men nodded before bending to their tasks.

Back in their crowded cabin, Tovi wrapped her shivering bulk in her coverlet. “It’s been quite a while since I had strapping young men leering at me.” She glanced to Nicci and Merissa. “Enjoy the admiration while you’re still worthy of it.”

Merissa pulled her shift from the chest at the end of the cabin. “It wasn’t you they were leering at.”

A motherly smile wrinkled Cecilia’s face. “We know that, Sister. I think what Sister Tovi means is that now that we’re away from the spell of the Palace of the Prophets, we will age like everyone else. You won’t have the years to enjoy your looks that we’ve had.”

Merissa straightened. “When we earn back our place of honor with the Master, I will be able to keep what I have.”

Tovi stared off with a rare, dangerous look. “And I want back what I once had.”

Armina slumped down on a bunk. “This is Liliana’s fault. If not for her, we wouldn’t have had to leave the palace and its spell. If not for her, the Keeper wouldn’t have given Jagang dominion over us. We wouldn’t have lost the Master’s favor.”

They were all silent for a moment. Squeezing around and past one another, they all went about pulling on their undergarments, while trying to avoid elbows.

Merissa drew her shift over her head. “I intend to do whatever is necessary to serve, and regain the Master’s favor. I intend to have my reward for my oath.” She glanced to Tovi. “I intend to remain young.”

“We all want the same thing, Sister,” Cecilia said as she stuffed her arms through the sleeves of her simple, brown kirtle. “But the Keeper wishes us to serve this man, Jagang, for now.”

“Does he?” Ulicia asked.

Merissa squatted as she sorted through the clothes in the chest, and pulled out her crimson dress. “Why else would we have been given to this man?”

Ulicia lifted an eyebrow. “Given? You think so? I think it’s more than that; I think Emperor Jagang is acting of his own volition.”

The others halted at their dressing and looked up. “You think he could defy the Keeper?” Nicci asked. “For his own ambitions?”

With a finger, Ulicia tapped the side of Nicci’s head. “Think. The Keeper failed to come to us in the dream that is not a dream; that has never happened before. Ever. Instead comes Jagang. Even if the Keeper were displeased with us, and wanted us to serve penance under Jagang, don’t you suppose he would have come to us himself and ordered it, to show us his displeasure? I don’t think this is the Keeper’s doing. I think it is Jagang’s.”

Armina snatched up her blue dress. It was a shade lighter that Ulicia’s, but no less elaborate. “It is still Liliana who has brought this upon us!”

A small smile touched Ulicia’s lips. “Has she? Liliana was greedy. I think the Keeper thought to use that greed, but she failed him.” The smile vanished. “It is not Sister Liliana who brought this upon us.”

Nicci’s hand paused as she drew the cord tight at the bodice of her black dress. “Of course. The boy.”

“Boy?” Ulicia slowly shook her head. “No ‘boy’ could have brought down the barrier. No mere boy could have brought to ruin the plans we have worked so hard for, all these years. We all know what he is, about the prophecies.”

Ulicia looked at each Sister in turn. “We are in a very dangerous position. We must work to gain back the Keeper’s power in this world, or else when Jagang is finished with us he will kill us, and we will find ourselves in the underworld, and no longer of use to the Master. If that happens, then the Keeper surely will be displeased, and he will make what Jagang showed us seem a lover’s embrace.”

The ship creaked and groaned as they all considered her words. They were racing back to serve a man who would use them, and then discard them without a thought, much less a reward, yet none of them were prepared to even consider defying him.

“Boy or not, he has caused all this.” The muscles in Merissa’s jaw tightened. “And to think, I had him in my grasp, we all did. We should have taken him when we had the chance.”

“Liliana, too, thought to take him, to have his power for herself,” Ulicia said, “but she was reckless and ended up with that cursed sword of his through her heart. We must be smarter than she, then we will have his power, and the Keeper his soul.”

Armina wiped a tear from her lower eyelid. “But in the meantime, there must be some way we can avoid having to return—”

“And how long do you think we could remain awake?” Ulicia snapped. “Sooner or later we would fall asleep. Then what? Jagang has already shown us he has the power to reach out to us, wherever we are.”

Merissa returned to fastening the buttons at the bodice of her crimson dress. “We will do what we must, for now, but that does not mean we can’t use our heads.”

Ulicia’s brows drew together in thought. She looked up with a wry smile. “Emperor Jagang may believe he has us where he wants us, but we’ve lived a long time. Perhaps, if we use our heads, and our experience, we will not be quite as cowed as he thinks?”

Malevolence gleamed in Tovi’s eyes. “Yes,” she hissed, “we have indeed lived a long time, and we’ve learned to bring a few wild boars to ground, and gut them while they squeal.”

Nicci smoothed the gathers in the skirt of her black dress. “Gutting pigs is all well and good, but Emperor Jagang is our plight, and not its cause. Nor is it advantageous to waste our anger on Liliana; she was simply a greedy fool. It is the one who truly brought this trouble upon us who must be made to suffer.”

“Wisely put, Sister,” Ulicia said.

Merissa absently touched her breast where it was bruised. “I will bathe in that young man’s blood.” Her eyes went out of focus, opening again the window to her black heart. “While he watches.”

Ulicia’s fists tightened as she nodded in agreement. “It is he, the Seeker, who has brought this upon us. I vow he will pay with his gift, his life, and his soul.”

2

Richard had just taken a spoonful of hot spice soup when he heard the deep, menacing growl. He frowned over at Gratch. The gar’s hooded eyes glowed, lit from within by cold green fire as he glared toward the gloom among the columns at the base of the expansive steps. His leathery lips drew back in a snarl, exposing prodigious fangs. Richard realized he still had a mouthful of soup, and swallowed.

Gratch’s guttural growl grew, deep in his throat, sounding like a moldy old castle’s massive dungeon door being opened for the first time in a hundred years.

Richard glanced to Mistress Sanderholt’s wide, brown eyes. Mistress Sanderholt, the head cook at the Confessors’ Palace, was still uneasy about Gratch, and not entirely confident in Richard’s assurances that the gar was harmless. The ominous growl wasn’t helping.

She had brought Richard out a loaf of freshly baked bread and a bowl of savory spice soup, intending to sit on the steps with him and talk about Kahlan, only to discover that the gar had arrived a short time before. Despite her trepidation over the gar, Richard had managed to convince her to join him on the steps.

Gratch had been keenly interested at the mention of Kahlan’s name; he had a lock of her hair that Richard had given him hanging on a thong around his neck, along with the dragon’s tooth. Richard had told Gratch that he and Kahlan were in love, and she wanted to be Gratch’s friend, just as Richard was, and so the inquisitive gar had sat down to listen, but just as Richard had tasted the soup, and before Mistress Sanderholt had been able to begin, Gratch’s mood had suddenly changed. He looked savagely intent, now, on something that Richard couldn’t see.