‘Hessa?’ Nona tried to roll but the white fire in her shoulder stopped her more effectively than the nun.
‘Hessa’s fine.’ A smile. ‘The arrow hit the ground a foot before her.’ Sister Rose looked to the side. ‘We need to move her!’ Called to someone else.
Other voices reached into Nona’s awareness. She focused on the roof high above her, the sand beneath her heels. She was still in Blade Hall. People were talking to her right. A roll of her head brought them into view.
Abbess Glass stood there, free of the yoke, head high, Sister Apple at her shoulder. The archons and the high priest faced her, all of them on the practice sand now. Looking the other way, she saw a host of nuns and novices, church-guards escorting them from the hall and everyone leaving as slowly as possible so as not to miss anything. Sisters Flint, Kettle and Mop were approaching, presumably to carry Nona to the sanatorium, though any one of them could lift her.
‘… irregular! In this day and age, to be thwarting the due process of the emperor’s law with archaic texts and talk of prophecy … You would do well to give the child over to the civil judges, abbess, however thick the hunska runs in her veins. It’s very disappointing. This matter could make all kinds of trouble for us – not the least of it in the emperor’s own court—’
‘What disappoints me, Jacob, is that you appear to have been purchased wholesale, along with your staff and office, for something as worthless as money.’ Abbess Glass raised her voice, not shouting but lending it the power to reach the rafters. ‘The church of the Ancestor is not for sale. You bring the archons here, racing from the four corners of empire, and then slap them in the face with a veto when their opinion is not the one Thuran Tacsis purchased? I say there should be a vote of no confidence. Here and now!’
The high priest snarled: the same look he wore when he raised his staff to strike a blow across Four-Foot’s back. ‘It’s not your place to call any such—’
‘I call for a vote.’ Archon Kratton rubbed at his scars, scowling. ‘Can’t say I’m impressed, high priest. Three days on horseback to reach Verity. From what the bird brought wrapped around its leg I thought to find the walls fallen, or the emperor proved a bastard, the Scithrowl heresy afoot in the streets … Instead a child has humbled a bully. And if we’re to believe she’s the Argatha’s Shield, then you’ve put a hole in her just because you wouldn’t trust the abbess’s word.’
‘I vote for vacation of office.’ Archon Philo, looming over his fellow clerics, lean and languorous, in sharp contrast to Kratton’s compact strength and restless energy. ‘Anasta?’
The eldest of them rolled the ball of her earring through long fingers then lowered the hand to fold into her other. ‘You have no idea how uncomfortable it is to spend five nights on the Bluewine when it’s in full spate. A riverboat’s no way to travel at the best of times. I get seasick looking at a cup of water. But,’ she raised her hand, ‘it would not have concerned me had the summons been for a matter of import. It might even have been forgivable as a lone lapse of judgement … if our decision had been respected. But to bring us scurrying to Verity like lapdogs just to underwrite your own sentence on poor Glass here … I vote for vacation of office.’ She turned to her left. ‘Archon Nevis?’
The fat archon ran both hands over the grey curls of his hair, still thick at the sides, and at the top as bald and shiny as Anasta’s head was all over. ‘Vacation.’
‘Which leaves me,’ Kratton said, stepping sharply across to the high priest until they stood face to face, eyes on a level. ‘And as the vote would have to be unanimous to remove you, I find myself mattering …’
‘Kratton, we should discuss this in private … There are issues that—’
‘I’ve never had a particularly good opinion of your term in office, Jacob. The staff does things to a man – most of them bad. Doesn’t do to have too many people around you whose position depends on their being agreeable. Even so, I would have voted to keep you … but for one thing. A high priest can be stupid, he can be greedy, he can be wrong: but what he can’t be is purchased. I voted to put you in the office and I’ll stand by that. I didn’t vote to put a Tacsis in the robe and hat though. You’ll have to go. I’m sorry. Vacation of office.’
Someone had their hands on Nona, crouched over her, ready to lift, but nobody was going anywhere until this was done. The silence behind her let Nona know that the nuns had given up any pretence of leaving.
‘This … this is outrageous!’ The high priest backed away from the archons and abbess, limping on the leg the roof-tiles had injured, his staff held defensively before him. ‘No high priest has ever—’
‘High Priest Albur was removed by his archons forty-three years ago during the last narrowing,’ Abbess Glass offered.
‘And High Priestess Sartra a century before that. For … indelicate relations,’ Archon Anasta added, nodding.
‘I won’t. This is … a conspiracy.’ High Priest Jacob purpled. He stared in Nona’s direction. ‘A trick! Guards! Take these archons into custody. Yoke them!’
A pair of church-guards moved to flank the high priest; the rest were at the fore of the hall to usher out the now-unwelcome audience. The first of those guards to move took one step before Sister Tallow’s foot found the back of his knee and he collapsed to the floor with a clatter. Another guard reached for her but Tallow caught the woman’s wrist and with a twist had her tumbling to the sand. The guard behind reached for his sword.
‘My title is Mistress Blade, young man. I have been a Red Sister since before you were born. Do not try me.’
The guard – who didn’t look particularly young to Nona – stopped with just an inch of steel gleaming above his scabbard and looked across to the far end of the hall. The two church-guards beside High Priest Jacob had their hands on their sword hilts but showed no enthusiasm for arresting the archons.
Archon Kratton raised his voice before the high priest could master his outrage. ‘Captain Rogan. Your loyalty to the high priest is not in question, but this man is no longer the high priest. You will have to put your faith in the judgement of four archons and a convent full of nuns when it comes to the legalities of the matter, but I can assure you that our proceedings have been every bit as correct here as they were in the court in which we served immediately prior to these events. Please tell your men to stand at ease.’
The silent moment that followed seemed as long as any that Nona had clung to in the ordeal.
‘At ease, guards.’
‘This is treachery! Blasphemy! The emperor will hear of it and set your heads on stakes!’ Jacob seemed half-crazed, clutching his staff as if it were his former rank and not some piece of gilded wood. ‘The emperor will hear …’ A whisper now.
‘And you are welcome to tell him, Jacob,’ Archon Nevis said, his face near as solemn as Archon Philo’s. ‘You are free to go. In time I hope you will agree to serve in one of my dioceses. Priest Martew of Gellim passed to the Ancestor last month and his flock would benefit from the wisdom of a church elder—’
‘Gellim? Are you mad? It’s a wild ice-swamp on the margins!’ The former high priest started towards the main door, half-stamping, half-limping. ‘I’m going to the palace. Anyone who tries to stop me will hang!’
The archons watched him go.
‘We should recover the staff …’ Archon Philo said.
‘Let him keep it.’ Abbess Glass smiled. ‘It’s just a stick. Besides, he’ll need it on the way down. The footing can be treacherous.’
‘We find ourselves in need of a new high priest.’ Archon Philo flexed his long hands and interlaced his fingers before him.
‘Well, we’re all here,’ Kratton said. ‘We could retire to a room and talk in circles for hours, or just get done with it and go home. Damned if I want to spend any longer than I have to on this windswept lump of rock. No offence, Glass.’