In Her Shadow(19)

"And how would you know?"

"Why shouldn't I know? The Abbess of Night didn't give the order to have him killed. That's what he was doing here. She's angry the citizens of this city acted without her order. And if they're willing to defy her, do you think they'd be afraid to kill you if you got in the way?"

"The Abbess of Night–"

"Had no idea. Heard it with my own two ears."

"She's a master liar. . ."

"Not if you've known her as long as I have."

Britta's head swam. Someone had acted without the Abbess of Night's express orders. It wasn't just a blow to the Abbess's authority, but a blow to the worldview of every native of Ankshara. The city really was changing, wasn't it? Not just a shift in attitudes and mores, but all its old power structures too. Or was the attack to preserve those power structures? Had it become necessary in the minds of some extremists to destroy Ankshara in order to save it?

"New Moon?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just. . ." She pulled the door open and stepped out.

"New Moon! Britta!"

Britta swiveled around, her cloak flaring out as she rounded on Weboshi. "I have a duty to this abbey and the people of Ankshara. I'm not Abbess yet, but I still have a role to play. Dux Lucius is to be my husband. If there's a good man beneath that harsh exterior, I'll have to find it, even if I have to mine it out with a pickax."

"Britta, his people–"

"I know what they did to you, to us. You don't have to remind me. No one has to remind me. It breaks my heart, but it's over. The war is over. The Siege is over. I'm supposed to lead us into the future. Well, this is how I plan to do it. Reconciliation. Isn't that what my marriage is supposed to represent? I'm not saying we have to forget what the Regnals did, what they took from us. I'm saying we have to move on, Weboshi, before our anger eats us up."

Weboshi's lips quivered. "What purpose does going to him when he's in danger serve? The Abbess still lives. Your waxing could yet be years away. Why take on this responsibility, this weight, before your time?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

Weboshi glared at the ground and shook her head. "May She hide you in Her shadow," she said.

"May She hide you in Her shadow."

***

Head down and cloak pulled tight, Britta slipped through the darkened street. She hoped to give the impression she was in no mood to stop to offer blessings, no mood to tell the men that might proposition her her gifts were not to be bought or sold. Unmolested, she passed by drunken sailors, merchants closing up their shops, her own sisters, pickpockets, soldiers making their lackadaisical way through a city that hated them. Would it hate her too? When she married the Dux, would its people revile her as a traitor? What about the citizens of the Regnal Empire? When they looked at her, was a foreign whore all they'd see? These thoughts hadn't occurred to her before; they were distractions keeping her from the task at hand. She shoved them deep down inside for further consideration later. Now was not the time to second guess. She'd made a decision to do her duty as the New Moon, and do it her way. So with a determination she hadn't felt before, she let no one stop her, slow her down, or even catch her eye. The crowd must have sensed her mood, because it parted for her, letting her move through it like a swallow through a storm cloud.

It wasn't long before she came to the gate house of the Governor's manse. Unlike last time, the guardhouse at the gate was surrounded by soldiers milling about. Not the mercenaries the Governor usually employed either, but a proper Regnal cohort. They played cards, dice, laughed as they chattered. They didn't stop as she neared, either. Usually, a priestess approaching with her cloak drawn elicited quiet respect, but these men – foreigners all – payed her no mind until she was upon them, ready to pass them by.

One, a tall slender man with a wicked scar across his nose, jumped to his feet and leaned his spear across the gate. "No you don't," was all he said.

"I'm here to see Dux Lucius."

"Too bad," the soldier said. "No one's allowed in. No locals, and especially no priestess of your whore-goddess."

The soldiers laughed. Britta grit her teeth, narrowed her eyes. "I'm his intended."

"So? You're not his wife yet. And that means–"

A bell – or maybe an iron triangle – rang high and tinny from the porch in the distance. Not once or twice, not in any pattern that seemed like a code, but a long string of frantic reverberations. The soldiers grabbed their things, but didn't say anything, all straining to hear something else, as if expecting more.

A young Regnal boy came running down the path, his feet kicking up dust behind him. Red faced, he bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What is it, Valex?" asked the tall soldier.

"Ava," the boy said between gasps. "The Dux's daughter. Someone has taken her."

Britta gasped. She covered her mouth as every eye shifted from the boy to her – except the tall soldier. "You two," he said pointing to a pair of soldiers. "No one gets in or out of this gate. You two take the north edge of the wall. You two south. Search the perimeter until you meet in the middle."

"What about her?" said one of the soldiers, thumbing a finger at Britta.