KADAR AND NABIL scouted around the warehouses, looking for where Farrah had taken the children. They were aware of the soldiers who watched everything the Southerners did and were careful to present their trip as business, closing the old warehouse Kadar had rented last year. The warehouse was empty, every tool and weapon gone, so Severin must have found a way to get the supplies to the Forsaken. Nothing else was amiss in the district.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if Severin had them in one of his father’s holdings,” Nabil murmured.
Kadar grimaced. “We can’t get in the upper-class district to find out.”
“Give it up, Kadar,” Nabil said, shaking his head. “They’ll either pull it off and show up at the Forsaken town, or they’ll be found out and killed. Nothing you can do either way.”
“There has to be a way to find them,” Kadar said, frustrated.
Nabil shot him a baffled look. “Why do you still care about them? I have half a mind to pull our guards from their city, but too many innocents would be harmed.”
Kadar shrugged. “I’m not worried about the Forsaken; I’m worried about the kidnapped children. I’m frightened what Farrah could do to them if she gets desperate. I can’t believe I told her about the Children’s Home.”
“You couldn’t know what she’d do. This is useless. Let’s go back to the house.”
A great crowd surrounded Kadar’s house when they got back to their street, and Kadar muscled his way through, frightened that the guards had come for his family because of his work with the Forsaken. He sighed in relief as he realized families of other desert merchants were crowding around Uncle Aaron. He’d pulled one of the wagons into the courtyard, and the cousins were unloading staples for the household.
“What you doing back so soon?” Kadar yelled over the noise of the crowd, hugging his uncle.
Uncle Aaron slapped him on the back. “Was told by a farspeaker I needed to turn about before I reached Frubia and come back here,” Uncle Aaron said. “He had the message from Clay, who is an old family friend, so I knew things must be serious. I picked up some staples and drove us right here. Barely stopped to switch from humpbacks to mules, and pushed them hard to get here fast.” Uncle Aaron turned to the crowd of Southerners. “Let me settle in, get some food and drink. Send one person, late afternoon, to tell me how many want to leave. I won’t be leaving for another day after, until the mules have rested. Go home.”
They ducked into the salesroom as Uncle Aaron murmured, “Everyone wants me to get their families out. I won’t be able to take them all, but we should be able to transport some.”
The cook was directing the Forsaken in setting midmeal on the table, and as they sat around it, Kadar looked around at his family, feeling the tension in the air. Uncle Aaron was trying to lighten the mood by telling stories of the road, but Aunt Raella wasn’t laughing, and the lines around her mouth were tight. Uncle Tarik picked at his food.
Simon joined them after unhitching and stabling the mule. Even his cousins seemed unsettled as the three oldest glared at their mother for suggesting they would leave with her, while the youngest kept his head down and stared at the food. Uncle Aaron gave up his attempt at levity and soon the only noise in the room was the clanking of utensils and chewing of food.
When they were mostly finished, Aunt Raella looked across at Kadar.
“I want to take Datura with us,” she told him.
Kadar’s breath caught in his throat. “What?”
“It isn’t safe here for her. Farrah is involved in the kidnappings. That’s why she left her sister here. People know Datura is her daughter. If Farrah harmed Northern children, they’ll want to go after her baby. Datura will be safe with me and her cousins. Dana and I can take care of her until you choose to join us.”
“She’ll be safe with you,” Simon corrected. “We’ve talked about it, and we’re staying with Father. This is our home. We’ve never lived in the desert, and we don’t want to leave Illian when we might be useful.”
Everyone stared at the cousins, surprised. Uncle Aaron ducked his head, hiding a smile, but Kadar was impressed. He’d been so worried about his own affairs that he hadn’t noticed how much the boys had grown the past couple of years.
Aunt Raella was speechless for a moment as she stared at her sons. “You are my children,” she said, her voice rising. “You will go back to my clan with me, take positions in the family business. You don’t have a choice.”
“Abram, Kile, and I are over apprentice age,” Simon told her. “We can choose to go where we like.”
“Yanis is not,” Aunt Raella said. “He will be coming with me. And so will you. Your father won’t let you stay, and no one else will apprentice you if he tells them not to.” She looked over at Uncle Tarik for confirmation.
He had a trapped look on his face. Aunt Raella would be furious with him if the boys stayed, but they’d be furious if he sent them away. He looked between his wife’s panicked face and his sons’ determined ones. He frowned and seemed to reach a decision.
“Yanis will go with his mother,” he said, and the boy stomped out the room, grumbling. “Abram and Kile, you will go as well.” He said, naming the two middle-teen boys. He held up a hand as they protested. “It is time for Abram to travel with Aaron and learn that end of the business anyway, so he will stay with the caravan. Aaron will need both of you to help with the wagons of the families leaving, with so many travelers going with him. Once there, Kile, you can decide whether to stay, or come back with the next wagon as Abram apprentices with Uncle Aaron. Simon, the choice is yours whether to help with the caravan or stay here. You are almost a man, and we need to respect your decisions.”
“I’ve been working with healers the past few weeks, helping the Forsaken,” Simon said. “They’re shorthanded. I’ll stay and continue my work.”
Uncle Tarik nodded and turned to Kadar, and Kadar saw sympathy in his eyes. “However, I agree with Raella about Datura. I know you can’t leave, but she will be safer away from retribution if things go badly. Raella loves her like the daughter I never gave her, and she will be safest in the crowd of families and guards we’ll have for the caravan.”
Kadar nodded slowly, his heart sinking as he thought about separating from his girl. He knew it was best for her but hated it anyway. He also knew it was what Farrah wanted, what she’d told him to do for her sister and daughter.
“I know you’re right though I don’t like it,” he said. “We also need to get Farrah’s sister, Thea, out of town. I promised Farrah I’d keep her safe. It might be a good opportunity to smuggle Sanuri to the desert.”
Aunt Raella frowned. “Unless we’ve heard from your grandmother, I’m not taking Sanuri. She doesn’t know how to keep quiet, and her odd behavior would just draw attention to us.”
“I’ll see what Aaron says,” Uncle Tarik said. “He might have a message from Mother.”
Letting Datura go wasn’t simple either. Dana did not want to leave the city, which left them without a wet nurse, and Datura wasn’t weaned yet.
“We’re not going,” Dana said shortly when Aunt Raella pressed her. “My mother’s in the north part of town, and we can’t leave her. That’s all I’m going to say.”
Aunt Raella felt that they should take their chances and use goat milk, weaning Datura quickly. She also refused to hear of Thea’s going with them, claiming that they couldn’t hide her and that the Forsaken girl would get them all arrested if they tried to smuggle her out. Aunt Raella and Kadar were loudly arguing about Datura and Thea in the living area when a soft voice interrupted them.
“Excuse me?”
Kadar turned and saw Alannah in the doorway, a blond woman peering curiously over her shoulder. “No one answered when I knocked, so we let ourselves in. I may have the answer for you.”
Aunt Raella pursed her lips and turned to go, unhappy with having a Temple acolyte in their living room. She stopped at Alannah’s next words.
“I may have a wet nurse for Datura, as well as a caretaker for the little girl,” she said, gesturing the blonde forward.
The woman was wearing a robe of pink, the color of the maidens of Ivanha, and had a small baby in a sling across her breast.
“This is Joaquil. She has told me she’s willing to nurse Datura as well as her son. She will not be questioned if she also claims the little girl as a foster child.”
“In exchange for what?” Kadar asked suspiciously. He thought he recognized the face as one of the pledges who had caused Sulis trouble last year. She and her friends had flirted with him when he took lessons at the Temple.
“A chance to start over,” Joaquil said. “My mother’s family refused to take us in, said I should return to the Temple and give up my little one.” She cast an adoring eye down at her baby and caressed his head. “I was raised in that children’s home. It’s the only thing I’ve known, and it’s no substitute for a real family. In Illian, I’ll always be known as a failed acolyte of Ivanha. I’m a good seamstress, and I work hard. Alannah said the One guided her to bring me here.” That last was almost pleading.
“Joaquil’s feli was killed protecting the infants from the kidnappers,” Alannah told them. “She chose to leave service, to stay with her child.”
“The Counselors gave me leave to wear my robe until we are in the desert,” Joaquil added. “You won’t be stopped if I’m with you because they’ll think you have Ivanha’s blessing.” She paused, then blurted out, “I know Sulis and I didn’t get along, but the Templar used me, and people died because of it. I can’t ever make up for it, but I love my son, and I want to find a place where no one knows me, so I can just be his mother, and he can be a normal boy. I’m done with the Temple and all the scheming.”
“You will have the One’s blessing,” Alannah said. “That is, if you are willing to take her in and help her find a place among you.”
Kadar looked at Aunt Raella, who seemed to be measuring up the former acolyte. Kadar sensed that she didn’t particularly like the woman’s coming with them, but understood the protection she’d give the whole caravan. It would be impossible for an entire caravan to be detained by soldiers if a maiden of Ivanha were among them.
“My family runs a large business and can always use another hand,” Aunt Raella told her. Kadar let a breath out he hadn’t realized he was holding. “It doesn’t pay much, but you’ll have a room in the hall and three meals a day.”
Joaquil nodded. “We should see if the baby is willing to nurse from me. Do you have any idea when we might leave?”
“Uncle Aaron says the mules will be rested the day after tomorrow,” Kadar said. The woman bit her lip and looked down, and he added, “I think we could set up a cot for you in the children’s room, if you wanted to stay near Datura, get her used to you. It would be a bit crowded, with the three kids, but you’ll have to get used to that on the road anyway.”
Joaquil nodded. “That would work best for me. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Alannah’s head snapped up, and her eyes stopped focusing. In the distance, bells started ringing, close to the Temple. Kadar exchanged frightened looks with his aunt, and Uncle Tarik and Uncle Aaron pushed through the doorway, faces worried.
Alannah refocused on them. “The Tribune has passed on.” She looked directly at Uncle Aaron. “It would be best if you left the city in the morning. The soldiers will be going on high alert with the kidnappers still at large and the upper class arriving for the funeral and instatement of the new Voice.”
Uncle Aaron nodded. “We’ll go slow, do half days to get us away from town,” he told her. “Thank you for the warning.”
She nodded and took her leave, and the rest of the family sprang into action. Kadar spent the rest of the day sending messages to the families they were taking to be ready in the morning. In the evening, he cradled his little girl while she squirmed and wanted to be put down, preparing himself to let her go in the care of his aunt. The thought that he would follow as soon as he could was no consolation.
THE CRONE KNELT on the prayer bench at her personal altar beside her office, her feli lying in front of her. Her hands were buried in his fur as she closed her eyes to reach out to Ivanha. She felt a rush of relief as that link was taken up, and her goddess was with her, fully, for the first time in over a year.
Our exile is over, Ivanha told her. The One has relented in the face of this strife. Where do we stand? What has been happening in the city?
The Crone felt Ivanha rifling through her thoughts and memories of the past year, then probing deeper, rummaging through the Crone’s regrets, her fears, her doubts. She felt her face flush in shame at the amount of doubt, overwhelmed with her unworthiness in the scrutiny of her deity.
Yes, this happens after a long absence, Ivanha hissed. It is probably what the One wanted when he took us away from our Voices. The Voices lose their understanding of divinity and become only human once again. When left to their own recourse, humans doubt, humans lose faith.
The Crone sent a wave of love and apology to Ivanha, ashamed of her humanness, ashamed she’d wavered in her devotion.
You are very old. Ivanha’s mindvoice seemed surprised, as though she had not realized how many years had slipped by. The elderly become sentimental. When this crisis is over, you will gather the Mother Superiors, and I will search for your replacement among them. You have served me well over so many years. You deserve a rest.
Tears coursed down the Crone’s face at the approval in Ivanha’s voice. Her goddess was kind not to blame her for her human weakness. All she had wanted her entire life was to serve Ivanha the best she could. It was overwhelming to hear that her goddess had been pleased with her service.
Contain yourself, my child, Ivanha reproved. We still have much to do before your successor steps in.
“The children,” the Crone reminded her.
Yes, the children. Ivanha’s tone turned puzzled. You care very much for them. So much that you would bargain for their lives with these infidels.
“They are your children,” the Crone said out loud. “They are dedicated to you, and you are their patron. I have cared for them in your service.”
She felt a wave of dismissal from Ivanha. There are so many humans. Her goddess sighed. There have been so many children. There will always be more. Humans are ever reproducing. Ivanha must have felt the Crone’s frustration and disbelief, because she went on quickly. But of course these are important, as they are important to you. As a parting gift, we will let these Forsaken go, we will bargain with them this once. They cause too much trouble to stay in the city. Once they are gone, the remaining ones, the ones who know their place, will return to their jobs. The rebellious ones will starve in the wilderness and will not bother us anymore. You will tell the Templar that. He is coming now to tell you of the Forsaken’s demands. Report to me when the children are returned. I must focus on waking my senses to the world once again.
The Crone nodded as her deity left her and her feli. She rose on shaky legs, cramped from kneeling so long. She settled at her desk just before the knock on her office door.
Her aide poked his head in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but you asked me to tell you if the Templar arrived,” he said politely.
“Send him in,” the Crone ordered. The aide ushered the Templar in, settling him in a chair, then brought in tea service for both. She enjoyed the Templar’s discomfort at her aide’s pink robes and fussy manner. It was nice to see the Templar confronted with a man who wasn’t a warrior and did not dance to his tune. The Crone hid her smile behind a cup of tea as her aide handed the Templar a dainty cup and saucer like her own. The aide winked at her behind the Templar’s back before he closed the door behind him. The Crone idly wondered if Ivanha had ever chosen a male Crone before. She was certain her goddess would just as happily watch Voras squirm as she did Voras’s Voice.
“This isn’t necessary,” he growled, holding the china, which looked ridiculously small in his large, callused hands.
The Crone smiled sweetly at him. “It is good to have some semblance of civility in these uncivil times,” she told him.
He drank his tea in one gulp and set the china aside.
“The Forsaken sent a message with one of the kidnapped children.” He waved away her exclamation. “No, she doesn’t know where they were being held. She was kept blindfolded and separate from the rest of the children. I already questioned her.”
“What are their demands?” the Crone asked, glad she’d spoken with Ivanha before the Templar came.
“First, they want free passage out of Illian for any Forsaken who wants to leave,” he said. “Next, they want supplies for those Forsaken to make a long journey, and for me to withdraw my troops to the city while they travel. And last, they want a date set for that committee the Herald is putting together, to make certain the Forsaken statuses are reviewed.”
“Didn’t the Herald already set a date?” the Crone asked.
“Yes, but she delayed announcing it when the Tribune became unresponsive.”
“I’ll speak to her about it,” the Crone said, making a note. “Ivanha wishes us to accede to the rest of the demands.”
“I don’t like it,” the Templar growled. “Letting the leaders of this rebellion go. We have a tip, a beggar who overheard a conversation between a Southerner and a richer man. I think we should wait, see if the tip leads us to something.”
The Crone shook her head. “The children are of primary importance to Ivanha,” she insisted, her voice firm and stern. “Ivanha feels that once the troublemakers are out of the way, Illian will settle down, and the rest of the Forsaken will return to work. Your men did too much damage, massacring the Forsaken. The city needs to return to peace, or it will be permanently damaged.”
The Templar snorted. “Typical housebound thinking. The ’troublemakers,’ as you call them, will go and create more trouble elsewhere. But as long as it isn’t here, you don’t care, right?”
“Our children are of primary importance,” the Crone repeated. “Ivanha takes precedence in this matter. It is against her the crime was committed. Do not test her.”
Voras flipped a palm as though waving away a gnat. “As things go, this is the smallest difficulty facing Voras. Tell Ivanha that war with the South is coming, just as Voras predicted. One of our soldiers finally found a way into the heart of the desert, training with their men. He was accepted as an elite warrior at a place called Kabandha.” The Templar leaned forward. “Crone, they have built an army. There is a prophecy, and they are training people to carry it out, take over the North, and banish the deities.”
The Crone sighed and shook her head. “Ivanha has known about this so-called prophecy for hundreds of years,” she said condescendingly. “It is nothing but a fever dream, wishful thinking by the infidels.”
The Templar stood, frowning. “The Southerners believe it is coming true this generation. They say the missing person, the one who completes the prophecy, has been born here in the North. This matter with the children is small compared to this. We’ll do as Ivanha asks, but tell her Voras’s focus is stopping this Southern invasion and finding the Northerner who would betray us all.”
He slammed the door behind him as he left, and the Crone sighed and massaged her temples. Her children would be returned, Ivanha would find a younger successor, and she would handle this prophecy and problems the Templar would cause with the Southerners. The Crone knew a peaceful mountain temple she could retire to, far north, near where she grew up.
Bells began ringing around the Temple, and the Crone looked up. The Templar had not mentioned another attack, so these must be mourning bells. The Tribune had passed on, his deterioration much quicker than predicted. The Crone called her aide in. There would be a state funeral, and they needed to organize mourning colors for the altar. Pilgrims would be visiting from all over the territory to send the old Tribune on and get a blessing from the new, young Voice.
THE CARAVAN WAS organized faster than Kadar would have imagined, with four other families and their guards leaving besides Aunt Raella. They left three shuttered businesses behind them on the merchant street.
Kadar fetched a bag of supplies from the kitchen and paused in the doorway, arrested by the sight of Uncle Tarik and Aunt Raella standing facing each other, clasping hands.
“You will come,” Aunt Raella asked softly. “Once this mess is sorted out?”
“I don’t know,” Uncle Tarik answered. “This is where I’m called to be, love.”
Aunt Raella lifted a hand and caressed his cheek. “Keep out of the mess, Tarik, no matter what your mother says. You are the light of my life, my true love. I couldn’t bear if anything happened to you.”
He reached up and clasped her hand in his, pressing it against his cheek, then kissing her palm.
“I will love you always,” he answered.
“Time to go,” Aaron called from the courtyard.
Kadar brushed past the couple as they shared a final kiss, pretending not to notice the tears on their cheeks as they pulled away.
Uncle Tarik stayed at the hall as Kadar escorted the group, riding near the front wagon that carried his daughter, watching for troublemakers. Most of their household guards were with the caravan, leaving Nabil and another behind to watch the salesroom.
There was some jeering from city folk as they rode through the outskirts of town, and some rotted vegetables thrown at the wagon. Kadar managed to keep his temper even when he recognized an Illian shouting “Southerners go home” as one of their good customers and tried not to look at the faces after that. Uncle Aaron stopped his leading wagon when Joaquil tapped his shoulder. After a short consultation, Joaquil exchanged seats with Kile, sitting beside Uncle Aaron to let her pink robes, golden hair, and priestly glare silence the crowd. They had no trouble after that. The soldiers guarding the road on the edge of town saw Joaquil’s robes and waved them through without searching the caravan. Kadar saw Uncle Aaron wipe a sweaty brow and relax a little after they left that way station behind.
Kadar parted with the caravan midmorning, after the last of the houses of Illian had fallen away. He sat in his saddle, watching them until they became specks in the distance. His horse became restless, and he turned it back to the city and headed to the quiet, seemingly empty house.
The Forsaken servants now outnumbered the family, and Sanuri ate last meal with Kadar, Uncle Aaron, and Simon now that Aunt Raella was gone. Sanuri muttered constantly to herself now, with very little coherency. Amber was either on Sanuri’s lap or close by her at all times, her blue eyes fixed on the girl. Kadar had to encourage the girl to eat, then wipe her face for her when she made a mess of it. He wondered if he should send for Alannah, if she could help calm the girl and make some sense of her ramblings. He shook his head. The city was already filling up with people for the funeral, and soldiers were everywhere. Alannah would have her hands full as Counselor. They couldn’t leave Sanuri on her own, so Kadar took her to the salesroom with him and gave her leather to braid into belts to keep her occupied in the back room.
“Kadar.” Nabil ducked into the hall late afternoon. Despite the unrest, sales were brisk, with so many visitors in town because of the funeral. There was a lull in customers, so Kadar caught Simon’s eye, and he nodded and waved for Kadar to go. Kadar and Nabil stepped into the break room and closed the door.
“What is it?” Kadar asked.
“A Forsaken boy just gave me a message, from Severin,” Nabil said, keeping his voice low. “Any Forsaken who wants to leave is going to be allowed to, starting tomorrow morning. He wants me to ride ahead and alert the Forsaken town.”
“How will they get there?” Kadar asked. “All our wagons are gone with Uncle Aaron.”
“The boy didn’t say. He said Severin has everything arranged, including a guard. They’ll let the kidnapped children go the day after once the Forsaken are gone from the city.”
Kadar nodded, thinking furiously. “The funeral and crowds will help, I think. The soldiers won’t dare attack the Forsaken with so many witnesses on the roads right now.”
Nabil shook his head. “But so many witnesses to where they’re going, as well. Hope he’s thought of that.”
“They can release the kidnapped children into the crowds,” Kadar said. “That’s a day before the funeral, and the city will be packed.”
Nabil nodded. “But if I go, that leaves you with just the one guard Aaron left from the caravan.”
Kadar nodded, thinking. “Uncle Tarik, Simon, and I are all able to defend ourselves,” he said. “I’m assuming the Forsaken who are with us will leave tomorrow with the others, so we won’t need to defend them. We can’t hold off an army, but one more person won’t help in that case.”
Nabil rode out at first light, on one of their fastest horses. Uncle Tarik and Kadar used the goods Uncle Aaron had brought to prepare packs for the Forsaken who were leaving. They escorted the Forsaken they employed to the city limits, where the soldiers grudgingly let them pass with a stream of other frightened but determined brown cloaks. There were soldiers assigned to take down the names of the Forsaken leaving, and they gave each Forsaken a small ration of supplies.
It was clear news of the exodus hadn’t been spread through the city, as townsfolk and visitors glanced over curiously but went back about their business when they saw soldiers were involved.
There weren’t as many Forsaken as Kadar expected, and he headed over to their district to see why. Severin was on horseback, surveying the neighborhood and directing guards, but turned and rode away when Kadar approached him.
He found the healer Nala at Farrah’s home, helping the residents pack and prepare.
“Severin ordered the Forsaken to go out in a trickle,” she explained. “They’ll blend in with crowds better and make the townspeople less suspicious. He thinks townsfolk will react with violence if they know Ivanha is bargaining with the Forsaken.” She looked around at the bustle. “It won’t completely clear the Forsaken from the city, though. There are some who refuse because they feel they’d be going against the deities. And some who are simply too old or infirm to go, and their families are staying with them. I’m sending a healer and a couple of apprentices with the Forsaken who leave. One help them all.”
When Kadar returned to the sales hall, Simon and Uncle Tarik were training new employees, youngsters from Southern families that Uncle Tarik had hired to replace the Forsaken. They would need lots of hands for next month’s Festival of the Founding, with most of the family gone to the desert. Business was brisk, and they didn’t get a break most of the day. The city was full of bored Northerners who were in for the funeral the next day, and Kadar was wishing for their Forsaken help and Aunt Raella.
Midafternoon, Sanuri wandered out from the backroom, babbling loudly to herself. Their customers looked askance at her, and Kadar apologized to the woman he was serving and went to the girl. When she saw him, she began to scream incoherently.
“Get her out of here,” Uncle Tarik growled.
Kadar picked the struggling girl up and carried her to the side room.
She calmed slightly as Kadar set her down, and Amber rubbed against her. Then she looked straight in Kadar’s eyes.
“Danger,” she whispered urgently. “Death, he knows, Datura’s mommy, he knows where she is. She will die.”
She started babbling again, and Kadar kept his voice low and soothing, trying to get that sense back.
“We have to get Alannah here,” he said, thinking the Counselor might be able to calm the girl, find out where Farrah was, what was going to happen to her. There was no one to send, though, and he couldn’t leave Sanuri when she was like this.
Alannah! He called urgently with his mind, over and over, hoping the Counselor could somehow hear him, even though she didn’t have farspeaking.
Sanuri stilled suddenly, and stared at him. “She comes,” she said clearly, then lapsed into silence.