Valor of the Healer by Angela Highland

Author:Angela Highland
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2013-04-16T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

One for the Dawnmaiden, one for the Noonmother, one for the Crone of Night. Three sunsets since Faanshi’s escape, three sunsets to distance her from the man who thought himself her master. The tally pleased Ulima. Three was a number sacred to Djashtet, and thus this night was a fitting one in which to give thanks for Faanshi’s freedom. But she knew better than to pray aloud, even in the privacy of her rooms. Faanshi’s flight had roused His Grace’s ire. Like any great beast he’d roar out his might and use all his strength to reclaim that which he had lost. And though her young kinswoman had escaped its walls, Lomhannor Hall remained a prison for Ulima, Holvirr Kilmerredes her jailer.

As she lit her altar candles he came to her door, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms along his chest. “How comforting it is to see the power of prayer invoked in these troubled days. What will you say to your heathen goddess tonight?”

“The same words I’ve spoken to Her for two nights running, my lord.” Once she’d been troubled by his disdain for the Djashtethi faith, for he’d led the way for almost all her people who’d joined his household to abandon the Lady of Time in favor of the Four Gods. But she’d learned to set that aside, even if it seemed sometimes that she was the only faithful Tantiu left at Lomhannor Hall. That, as much as anything else, had driven her to teach Faanshi to share her beliefs. And she didn’t let the duke distract her now from lighting the sage and sandalwood incense at the feet of the statue on the altar, or kneeling upon the velvet cushion she kept on the floor. “A call for justice, the preservation of life and the soul of my niece’s daughter.”

“She’s casteless.” His heavy tread brought him farther into the room, and his voice carried an edge beneath his otherwise friendly tone. “I didn’t think the casteless merited the attention of prayers.”

“I pray for all who merit it, Your Grace.” Ulima clasped her hands at her breast and closed her eyes. All her other senses focused upon the duke. With her back turned, he could easily thrust a dagger between her shoulder blades. But he wouldn’t, not tonight. She’d had no vision, but the knowledge filled her nevertheless. “Sometimes I even pray for you.”

“I’m flattered. I had no idea you held me in such high regard.”

“You’ve wed into my clan. I pray for all who are kin to Clan Sarazen, by blood and bond of marriage.”

“Whether they’re noblemen or casteless slave girls? How egalitarian of you.”

“Almighty Djashtet commands us in Her ridahs to show compassion to all. Especially to those of lesser station in life.”

Holvirr paced in a semicircle behind her, the edge in his voice growing sharper. “Does She also command you to work against your acknowledged lord?”

Ah, now the swords are unsheathed. “That would be an act of treachery,” Ulima observed primly, “and therefore forbidden by the ridahs.

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