Against The World

Chapter 87: The Road Home

For three days after the audience, nothing happened.

The gates opened.

The wagons arrived.

Garrick developed a firm objection to being put down immediately after he had persuaded someone to pick him up.

I considered this a difficult position to negotiate.

Evelyn considered it hereditary.

On the fourth morning, Sabine came through Stoneford carrying a leather document case.

She found me in the nursery with Carol asleep against my chest.

For a moment, she looked at the baby instead of the papers in her hand.

Then she said, “You have caused considerable discussion.”

“I was hoping to be clear enough to prevent that.”

“You were clear. That caused most of it.”

Evelyn smiled from her chair.

Sabine bowed to her.

Then she set the document case on the table.

“Caerwyn will honor its compact.”

I felt something loosen beneath my ribs.

“All of it?” Evelyn asked.

“Passage, customs, agreed deliveries, and the right of appeal. Our king has declined the request to participate in religious inspections of Greykeep’s merchants.”

“And your temples?”

“Have discovered that they disagree with one another.”

Mary, who had followed Sabine inside, looked interested.

“Publicly?”

“Unfortunately for several senior priests, yes.”

We moved to the adjoining room once Helena arrived to claim Carol.

Sabine laid three papers on the table.

The first was the formal assurance from Caerwyn.

The second concerned Halvane.

Lady Vennel had returned to her court and apparently described our audience with enough accuracy that its ministers had postponed the proposed seizures.

“They haven’t withdrawn their objections,” Sabine said.

“I didn’t ask them to like us.”

“No. Your position on that was memorable.”

Evelyn read the third paper.

Her expression changed.

“Veyr?”

Sabine nodded.

“A temple order. It was issued before your audience, but I have no confirmation that it has been recalled.”

The order authorized the examination of travelers carrying prohibited devotional objects.

It also authorized holding them until a priest determined whether their release would endanger others.

I read the last paragraph twice.

“How long?”

“No stated limit.”

Mary held out her hand.

I gave her the page.

Outside, someone laughed in the corridor.

The sound seemed very far away.

The message from Stoneford arrived before we finished.

Two Greykeep wagons had been stopped at a toll station called Reed Crossing.

The horses and cargo were held behind its palisade.

Five people were inside with them.

A sixth had been allowed to return with a notice for the owners.

The notice demanded that the travelers surrender any objects associated with Aurelia and swear that they would cease promoting her worship.

I looked at the date.

Then at the messenger.

“When did you leave Stoneford?”

“As soon as the carter reached us, Your Majesty.”

“Is he there now?”

“Yes.”

I stood.

Evelyn rose more slowly.

We looked at one another.

There was no need to repeat what I had said in the audience hall.

“Bring them home,” she said.

The carter’s name was Hollis.

He sat in Stoneford’s gatehouse with a cup held between both hands.

His coat was still wet at the shoulders.

When I entered, he tried to stand.

I pulled up a chair.

“Tell me.”

He looked briefly toward Eliza, then back at me.

“We paid the toll. They checked the loads. Then one of the temple men saw the rose.”

“Where?”

“My sister’s wrist.”

A little thread bracelet.

Her daughter had made it from yellow wool after hearing about the chapel.

“She said it was a flower,” Hollis continued. “He asked which flower.”

I felt my jaw tighten.

“What happened then?”

“They took her inside.”

“Was she hurt?”

“I didn’t see. They wouldn’t let me follow.”

He set down the cup because his hands had begun shaking.

The wagons carried iron fittings and woven cloth. Their papers were valid. Their toll receipts were stamped.

There had been no accusation crimes commited, nor any unlawful actions taken.

No disputed payment.

Only the bracelet.

“They said you could settle it,” Hollis said.

“Yes.”

I leaned forward.

“Who is waiting at home?”

He swallowed.

“Her daughter. My wife has her.”

“What’s your sister’s name?”

“Lysa.”

I repeated it.

Then the names of the others.

I wanted all five before I left the room.

Reed Crossing lay several hours beyond Stoneford by the winter road.

There was no gate.

We went on horseback.

Eliza brought twelve riders. Melody rode beside me, and Alistair remained close enough to speak without raising his voice.

Sabine came as well.

I had not asked her to.

“Caerwyn guarantees part of this route,” she said when I questioned it. “Those papers bear our customs marks.”

Mary sent a clerk with copies of everything.

Hollis rode with us until the crossing came into view.

Then Eliza left him with two guards at a bend sheltered from the wind.

“You’ve done your part,” she told him.

He watched me.

I nodded once.

Then we rode on.

The toll station stood beside a narrow stone bridge.

A low palisade enclosed a stable, a warehouse, and a squat building with smoke rising from its chimney.

Two wagons stood inside.

I recognized the Greykeep marks before I could read the toll board.

The gate was closed.

Four men watched us from the platform above it.

Eliza raised a hand.

We stopped beyond easy spear reach.

“Captain Eliza of Greykeep,” she called. “His Majesty King Uriah Grey requests the officer commanding this station.”

One of the men disappeared.

The others looked at me.

Then at the sword beside my saddle.

Nobody spoke.

A few minutes later, an older officer appeared between two of the guards.

“Captain Darran,” he said. “This is a Veyran crossing.”

“I know,” I replied. “You have five of my people.”

“They are being held under temple authority.”

“Have they committed an offense against your toll laws?”

He hesitated.

“No.”

“Against the safe-conduct they carry?”

“The temple—”

“Captain.”

He stopped.

I held his gaze.

“Have they?”

“No.”

“Then bring them out. With their horses, wagons, and goods.”

The priest who emerged from the station was younger than Othren.

He carried a white staff.

A bronze sun hung from his neck, its rays sharpened into narrow points.

“These travelers are subject to examination,” he announced.

Sabine rode forward.

“They entered under valid passage guaranteed by Veyr and Caerwyn.”

“Spiritual matters supersede—”

“Show me the clause.”

He looked at her.

She held up a copy of the agreement.

“The one permitting you to imprison travelers after accepting payment for their passage.”

The priest ignored the paper.

His attention returned to me.

“The woman may leave once she renounces the forbidden power.”

“What is her name?” I asked.

He frowned.

“The woman inside. What is her name?”

“That is irrelevant.”

“Lysa,” I said.

Wind moved along the road.

Behind me, a horse stamped.

“She has a daughter waiting for her.”

The priest planted his staff against the timber platform.

“She has a soul in danger.”

“Bring her out.”

“No.”

I dismounted.

Alistair did the same.

I handed him the reins and walked toward the gate.

The guards shifted.

One lowered his crossbow.

Eliza’s voice cracked across the road.

“Keep that pointed down.”

For a moment, he did.

Then the priest reached across him and shoved the weapon upward.

The Soldier pressed the release and loosed the bolt.

I snatched it out of the air bare-handed.

I felt the wood and gave it a squeeze.

The bolt fell into the mud in pieces.

Everything became very quiet.

I looked up.

The crossbowman stared at the ground below me.

Captain Darran seized his shoulder and dragged him back.

“Hold!” he shouted.

The priest lifted his staff.

Gold flared around its head.

It was nothing like Evelyn’s light.

This was sharp and hot, gathering into a point.

I drew my sword.

Lightning struck the staff.

The white wood split.

The priest stumbled backward, dropping the burning pieces.

Thunder rolled across the bridge.

At the same moment, I called the cold.

The hammer formed in my left hand.

I drove its head against the iron fastening of the gate.

Frost raced over the hinges and locking straps. The metal gave a brittle cry.

One more blow broke the fastening.

The gate sagged inward.

I stepped through.

The guards were still alive.

So was the priest.

I intended to keep it that way if they allowed me.

Lightning crawled along my sword.

Behind me, frost spread over the broken iron and stopped at the wet timber.

Captain Darran stood at the foot of the platform with his sword half drawn.

I looked at it.

Then at him.

Slowly, he pushed it back into its sheath.

“Keys,” I said.

He reached into his coat.

The priest tried to stand.

“You have struck a consecrated—”

Melody crossed the yard before he finished.

She kicked the broken staff out of his reach and put herself between him and the rest of us.

“Remain seated.”

He did.

Eliza’s riders entered behind me.

They moved toward the warehouse, stable, and station doors.

Nobody looted anything.

Nobody set a torch to the buildings.

Sabine dismounted just inside the broken gate.

Her expression was colder than the iron at my feet.

“Captain,” she said, “you will want to write down exactly who ordered you to do this.”

We found the prisoners in the station cellar.

Lysa came up first.

She had a bruise along one cheek and no bracelet.

Seeing the bruise filled me with rage.

The others followed: two drivers, a young cloth merchant, and an older man who had been accompanying the iron shipment to supervise unloading.

All five could walk.

I had been holding my breath without realizing it.

Lysa stared at me.

“Your Majesty?”

“Hollis is waiting down the road.”

Her mouth opened.

Then she covered it with one hand.

I let the sword’s lightning fade before going closer.

“Can you ride in the wagon?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

Eliza sent a guard with her.

The older man stopped beside me.

“They made us put the cloth outside while they searched.”

I looked toward the open warehouse door.

Several bundles lay on the wet stones.

“We’ll take it with us.”

“It’ll need drying.”

“Yes.”

He nodded, as though this was the part he could manage.

Then he went to inspect his cargo.

The bracelet lay on the priest’s desk.

Yellow wool.

A child’s attempt at petals.

I picked it up.

Beneath it was a register.

Six names.

A description of the goods.

A column headed Submission.

Every space beneath it was empty.

I showed it to Sabine.

She read it without speaking.

Then she called for our clerk.

Captain Darran watched from the doorway.

“Take the record,” he said.

I looked at him.

“I kept their passage papers with it. The priest wanted them burned.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He glanced toward the yard.

“Because I thought someone might ask.”

I could have said a great deal.

Instead, I took the papers.

Outside, the horses were being harnessed.

We left Reed Crossing with five travelers, two wagons, their goods, and the record of their detention.

The station remained standing.

Its gate would require a new fastening.

The priest’s staff would require considerably more.

At the bend, Hollis saw his sister beside the first wagon.

He ran the last few steps.

Lysa caught him with both arms.

For a while, neither spoke.

I stood beside my horse and watched.

Melody came up beside me.

“You’re bleeding.”

I looked down.

A shallow cut crossed the knuckle of my right hand.

Broken iron, probably.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“I gathered that.”

She wrapped it while Alistair checked the road behind us.

My hands had begun to shake.

Not enough to stop her.

Enough that she noticed.

She tied the cloth and squeezed my wrist once.

“They’re here,” she said.

I looked toward the wagons.

“Yes.”

We reached Stoneford after dark.

Someone had brought hot food to the gatehouse.

Someone else had gone to find dry blankets.

Lysa sat beside the hearth while Hollis explained the journey in fragments to a clerk who wisely let him finish each one.

Before I left, I returned the bracelet.

She stared at it.

“They cut it.”

“I’m sorry.”

She held the broken ends in her palm.

Then closed her fingers.

“My daughter can mend it.”

I nodded.

She looked up.

“I thought you might send a letter.”

“So did I, when I first heard.”

“What changed?”

I thought of the closed gate.

The empty column.

The bolt suspended for an instant in the air.

“They wouldn’t let you come home.”

Evelyn waited in our rooms.

She stood when I entered.

For a moment, she simply looked at me.

Then her eyes found the bandage.

“A knuckle,” I said.

She crossed the room.

I held her carefully.

Over her shoulder, I saw Helena beside the cradles.

Both babies were asleep.

“All five?” Evelyn asked.

“All five.”

She closed her eyes against my coat.

I rested my cheek against her hair.

Only then did I feel how tired I was.

Sabine stayed to witness the report the following morning.

We recorded the valid passage papers.

The demand for renunciation.

The crossbow bolt.

The priest’s attempted spell.

The force used to free the prisoners.

I signed beneath it.

Evelyn signed beside me.

Veyr would receive a demand for the withdrawal of the detention order and payment for the damaged cargo and unlawful confinement.

Caerwyn would receive Sabine’s account directly.

While Mary prepared the dispatches, a second message arrived.

Halvane had issued instructions to its ports.

Greykeep cargoes were to pass under the existing agreements.

No religious examination was authorized.

I read the message, then handed it to Evelyn.

She let out a slow breath.

“One of them listened.”

“Yes.”

Across the table, Sabine closed her document case.

“Veyr will be listening now.”

I looked at the bandage on my hand.

“I would prefer they had listened before.”

“So would their captain at Reed Crossing.”

Later, Evelyn changed the dressing.

She cleaned the cut, examined it, and held her hand above mine.

A small golden light settled against the skin.

The sting eased.

She worked for several quiet breaths before letting the magic go.

“That’s enough for today,” she said.

“Ilyen?”

“And me.”

I smiled.

From the cradle, Garrick made a small, insistent noise.

Evelyn looked toward him.

“Your turn.”

I lifted him.

He fitted against my chest with the familiar, astonishing weight of someone who had only recently arrived and already occupied so much of my life.

His fingers caught the edge of my bandage.

Gently, I freed them.

Outside, bells marked the midday hour.

The roads were still uncertain.

Veyr’s answer had not come.

But five people were home, and downstairs someone had brought two wagons into the service court to unload.

I listened to the wheels.

Then I carried my son to the window and showed him.

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