“You said the Aspect ordered you to allow her to be treated like that,” Vaelin said. “Why?”
Frentis’s expression was pained, reluctant to share what he knew would be unwelcome information. “Sister Sherin is a convicted traitor to the Realm and a Denier of the Faith.”
Sherin in the Blackhold. The thought of it sent waves of guilt and worry coursing through him. What had she suffered there?
“I went straight to Aspect Elera when we docked,” Frentis continued. “Like you told me. When she heard what I had to say we went to Aspect Arlyn. He was able to talk the king into releasing the sister from the palace.”
“The palace? She wasn’t in the Blackhold?”
“Seems she was kept there when the Fourth Order first arrested her but Princess Lyrna got her out. Apparently she just marched in and demanded they release the sister to her custody. The warden thought she was acting on the king’s orders so handed her over. Rumour is Aspect Al Tendris was hopping mad when he heard, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Sister Sherin was still a prisoner anyway, just had a nicer prison.”
“What could she have done that could ever be considered treason, let alone denial of the Faith?”
“She spoke against the war. Not just once either. Many times, to anyone who’d listen. Said the war was founded on lies and contrary to the Faith. Said you and all the rest of us had been sent to our doom for no good reason. Wouldn’t have mattered so much if it’d been some nobody spouting off, but she’s well known in the poorer parts of the capital, well liked too, on account of all the people she’s helped. When she spoke people listened. Seems neither the king nor the Fourth Order liked what she had to say.”
More of the old man’s scheming? Vaelin wondered. Perhaps he knew about his attachment to Sherin and her arrest was another means of applying pressure. He felt it unlikely, Janus had already secured his obedience. Sherin’s arrest seemed an act born of simple fear; his war could not be undone by a dissenting voice. Vaelin knew well the king’s ruthlessness but to publicly arrest a well liked sister of the Fifth Order was hardly the subtle, insidious move he favoured. He must have tried something else, Vaelin concluded. Some other way to silence her or buy her loyalty. So, she had the strength to resist him where I did not.
“The king only agreed to Sherin’s release on condition she be shackled and kept under constant guard,” Frentis went on. “She’s also forbidden to talk to anyone without permission.” Frentis tugged an envelope from his cloak and held it out to Vaelin. “The details are here. Aspect Arlyn said we should observe them…”
Vaelin took the envelope and tossed it on the fire, watching the wax of the king’s seal bubble and run in the flames.
“It seems the king has reprieved Sister Sherin and ordered her immediate release,” he told Frentis in a tones which didn’t invite argument. “In recognition of her long years of service to the Realm and the Faith.”
Frentis’s eyes flicked to the now charred envelope, but didn’t linger. “Of course, brother.” He shifted nervously, clearly debating whether to voice something more.
“What is it, brother?” Vaelin prompted tiredly.
“There was a girl, came to the dockside when we were getting ready to leave. Asked if I could give you this.” His hand emerged from his cloak again, clutching a small package wrapped in plain paper. “Pretty thing, she was. Almost made me sorry I joined the Order.”
Vaelin took the package, opening it to find two thin wooden blocks tied together with a blue silk ribbon. Inside was a single winterbloom, pressed flat on a white card. “Did she say anything?”
“Only that I should convey her thanks. Didn’t say what for.”
Vaelin was surprised to find a smile on his lips. “Thank you, brother.” He retied the ribbon and consigned the blocks to his pocket. “Didn’t happen to bring some food did you? I’m quite starved.”
Frentis made a journey back down the hill and returned a half hour later with Caenis, Barkus and Dentos, each laden with provisions and bedrolls.
“Haven’t slept under the stars for weeks now,” Caenis commented. “I find I miss it.”
“Oh, quite,” Barkus drawled, unfolding his bedroll. “My backside has indeed missed the joys of hard earth and sudden rain.”
“Don’t you lot have duties?” Vaelin enquired.
“We’ve decided to shirk them, my lord,” Dentos replied. “Going to flog us?”
“Depends on what kind of meal you’ve brought me.”
They roasted a haunch of goat over the fire and shared bread and dates. Dentos opened a bottle of Cumbraelin red and passed it round. “This is the last one,” he said, his voice laden with regret. “Had Sergeant Gallis pack twenty bottles before we left.”
“Men do seem to drink more in time of war,” observed Caenis.