Soul of the Fire (Sword of Truth 5)

Ann carefully chewed the lumps in the soup as she surveyed the grimy little tent. She had caused such a ruckus being with the Sisters o

f the Light that Jagang apparently had ordered her to be housed in her own small tent. Each night a long steel pin was driven into the ground and she was chained to it. The tent was erected around her.

In the day, when they prepared to move out, she was thrown in a rough wooden box latched with a hasp held tight with a pin or lock of some sort. She wasn’t sure, since she was always inside the box when they put it on and took it off. The box, with her in it, was then loaded on an enclosed wagon without windows or ventilation. She knew because she peeked out the crack where the lid of her box didn’t fit well.

After they stopped for the night, they eventually took her out and one of the Sisters escorted her to the latrine before they staked her to the ground and up put her tent. If need took her in the day, she had little choice as to what to do about it. It was either wait, or don’t.

Occasionally they didn’t bother with the tent, and simply left her chained to the stake, like a dog.

Ann had come to like her little tent, and was pleased when it was erected around her. It was her private sanctuary, where she could stretch her cramped legs and arms, lie down, and pray.

Ann swallowed the mouthful of soup. “So, did Jagang say you were to do more to me than feed me? Perhaps rough me up for his amusement, or yours?”

“No.” Sister Alessandra sighed. “Just feed you. From what I gather, he hasn’t decided what to do with you, but in the meantime he wants you kept alive so you might be of value to him one day.”

Ann watched the woman stir the bowl of soup. “He can’t get in your mind, you know. Not now.”

Sister Alessandra looked up. “What makes you think that?”

“The chimes are loose.”

The spoon stilled. “So I’ve heard.” The spoon again started circling. “Rumors. That’s all it is.”

Ann squirmed, trying to get more comfortable on the rough ground. It seemed to her that with all her natural padding she shouldn’t be so troubled by lumps on the ground.

“I wish it were only rumors. Why do you think your magic doesn’t work?”

“But it does.”

“I mean your Additive Magic.”

The woman’s brown eyes turned down. “Well, I guess I’ve not really tried to use it, that’s all. If I were to try, it would work, I’ve no doubt.”

“Try, then. You’ll see I’m right.”

She shook her head. “His Excellency does not permit it, unless he specifically requests it. It is… unwise to do other than His Excellency says to do.”

Ann leaned toward the woman. “Alessandra, the chimes are loose. Magic has failed. For Creation’s sake, why do you think I’m in this predicament? If I could use magic, don’t you think I would have caused just a little trouble when I was captured?

“Use your head, Alessandra. You’re not stupid, don’t act it.”

If there was one thing about Alessandra, she wasn’t stupid. How a smart woman could fall prey to the Keeper’s promises she didn’t know. She guessed lies could fool even smart people.

Ann avoided using the appellation “Sister” not only because it was a term of respect, but because it seemed a way of speaking more directly, more intimately, to a woman Ann had known and liked for half a millennium. Using the title “Sister” seemed only to invoke her connection to the Sisters of the Dark.

“Alessandra, Jagang can’t get into your head. His power as a dream walker has failed, just the same as my power has failed.”

Sister Alessandra watched without evident emotion.

“Perhaps his power works in conjunction with, or even through, ours, and he could still get into the minds of the Sisters of the Dark.”

“Bah. Now you’re thinking like a slave. Go away if you’re going to think like a slave—like the Sisters of the Light, I’m ashamed to say.”

The woman seemed reluctant either to leave or to end the discussion. “I don’t believe you. Jagang is all-powerful. He must surely be watching now, through my eyes, as we speak, and I simply don’t know it.”

Ann was forced to take the spoonful of soup when it unexpectedly swooped toward her mouth. She chewed slowly as she studied the woman’s face.

“You could come back to the Light, Alessandra.”

“What!” The instantaneous flash of anger in the woman’s eyes melted to amusement. “Prelate, you have gone loony.”

“Have I?”

Sister Alessandra pressed another spoonful to Ann’s lips. “Yes. I am sword to my master of the underworld. I serve the Keeper. Eat, now.”

Before Ann could swallow, another spoonful came at her. She ate a half dozen more before she could get a word out.

“Alessandra, the Creator would forgive you. The Creator is all-loving and all-forgiving. He would take you back. You could come back to the light. Wouldn’t you like to return to the Creator’s loving embrace.”

Unexpectedly, Sister Alessandra backhanded her. Ann toppled to her side. The woman hovered, glowering.

“The Keeper is my master! You will not speak blasphemy! His Excellency is my master in this world. In the next, I am sworn to the Keeper. I will not listen to you profane my oath to my master. Do you hear?”

Ann feared that what healing her jaw had done had now been undone. It hurt something awful. Her eyes watered. Sister Alessandra finally seized Ann’s filthy dress at the shoulder and hauled her up straight.

“I will not have you saying such things. Do you hear?”

Ann kept silent, fearing to elicit another angry outburst. Apparently, the subject was as sore as Ann’s jaw.

Sister Alessandra picked up the bowl of soup. “There isn’t much left, but you should finish it.”

Alessandra stared down at the bowl, as if watching the spoon stirring around in it. She cleared her throat. “Sorry I hit you.”

Ann nodded. “I forgive you, Alessandra.” The woman’s eyes, no longer filled with anger, turned up. “I do, Alessandra,” Ann whispered sincerely, wondering at the terrible emotions struggling within her former disciple.

The eyes turned down again. “There is nothing to forgive. I am what I am, and nothing will change it. You’ve no idea of the things I’ve done to become a Sister of the Dark.” She looked up with a distant expression. “You’ve no idea of the power I was granted in return. You can’t imagine, Prelate.”

Ann almost asked her what good it did her, but held her tongue and finished the soup in silence. She winced in pain with every swallow. The spoon clanked when Alessandra dropped it in the empty bowl.

“It was very good, Alessandra. The best meal I’ve had in… however long I’ve been here. Weeks, I guess.”

Sister Alessandra nodded and rose. “If I’m not busy, I will bring you some tomorrow, then.”

“Alessandra.” The woman turned back. Ann met her gaze. “Could you sit with me for a bit?”

“Why?”

Ann chuckled bitterly. “I’m stuffed in a box every day. I’m staked to the ground every night. It would be nice to have someone I know sit with me for a bit, that’s all.”

“I’m a Sister of the Dark.”

Ann shrugged. “I’m a Sister of the Light. You still brought me soup.”

“I was ordered to.”

“Ah. More honesty than I received from the Sisters of the Light, I’m sorry to say.” Ann squirmed off a loop of chain and then flopped down on her side, turning away from Sister Alessandra. “Sorry you had to be interrupted to take care of me. Jagang probably wants you to go back to whoring for his men.”

Silence reined inside the tent. Outside, soldiers laughed, drank, and gambled. Smells of meat roasting drifted in. At least Ann’s stomach wasn’t grumbling with hunger. The soup had been good.

Ann heard the sound of a woman’s scream in the distance. The scream turned to chiming laughter. One of the camp followers, no doubt. Sometimes, the screams were sincere terror. Sometimes the sound of them made Ann sweat, thinking about what was happening to those poor women.

At last, Sister Alessandra sank back d

own. “I could sit with you a bit.”

Ann rolled over. “I would like that, Alessandra. I really would.”

Sister Alessandra helped her sit up, and then the two of them sat in awkward silence while they listened to the camp sounds.

“Jagang’s tent,” Ann said at last. “I heard it was something. Quite the fancy sight.”

“Yes, it is. It’s like a palace he sets up each night. I can’t say I favor going there, though.”

“No, after my encounter with the man, I imagine not. Do you know where we’re going?”

The other shook her head. “Here, there, it makes no difference. We are slaves serving His Excellency.”

It had the ring of hopelessness to it, and made Ann think to gently turn that feeling to hope. “You know, Alessandra, he can’t get into my mind.”

Sister Alessandra looked up with a frown, and Ann told her how the bond to the Lord Rahl protected anyone sworn to him. Ann was careful to frame it in terms of what it meant to her, and to the others sworn to Richard, on a personal level, rather than to make it sound like an offer. The woman listened without objection.

“Now,” Ann said in conclusion, “the magic of Richard’s bond as the Lord Rahl doesn’t work, but then, Jagang’s magic doesn’t work either, so I’m still safe from the dream walker.” She chuckled. “Unless he walks in the tent, that is.”

Sister Alessandra laughed with her.

Ann rearranged her manacled hands in her lap, hauling the chains closer so she could have enough slack to cross her legs.

“When the chimes eventually go back to your master in the underworld, then Richard’s bond will work again, and I will once again be protected from Jagang’s magic, when it returns, too. In all this, that is the one comfort I have—knowing I’m safe from Jagang’s power entering my mind.”

Sister Alessandra sat mute.

“Of course,” Ann added, “it must be a relief for you to be without Jagang in your mind for the time being, at least.”

“You don’t know when he’s there. You feel no different. Except… if he wants you to know.”

She smoothed the lap of her dress when Ann didn’t say anything. “But I think you don’t know what you’re talking about, Prelate. The dream walker is in my mind, right now, watching us.”