The Circle of the Sword by John French

Author:John French
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-09T13:33:33+00:00

PENITENT

They took the iron mask from Severita’s head after five days of hunger and silence. That act surprised her. She knew the path of penance, knew that it passed through many steps of which this was the first. They had given her water each day, piped it into her mouth through a hole in the mask, and that was how she had kept track of time. Only five of the fifteen days had passed. They should not have removed the mask yet.

Light poured into her eyes and for an instant she was blind. Then shadows formed in the brilliance and the chains on her wrists jerked as she swayed.

‘What…’ she began before she could stop herself.

A lash bit across her shoulders

‘The penitent shall not speak,’ came the cold tones of a female voice.

‘You will not do that again,’ said another voice, male, cold and controlled. ‘Her penance and redemption lie in my hands now. Do you understand?’

A pause, a shifting of the shadows.

‘Yes, inquisitor,’ came the female voice.

Inquisitor. The word echoed in her skull. The light was less blinding now. A blurred shape loomed above her.

‘Can you raise your eyes, Severita?’ asked the inquisitor. Severita blinked, and moved her hands to wipe her eyes. The chain snapped taut.

‘Release her bonds,’ said the inquisitor.

‘Lord, she is not permitted to–’

‘Release her bonds.’

Severita almost flinched at the cold force in the words.

The chains were released a second later. She wiped her eyes, blinking. The inquisitor stood above her, dark eyes in a young face of hard angles. He wore a storm coat of dark grey and a crimson cuirass. A mind-linked cannon twitched on his shoulder as he looked down at her.

‘I am Covenant,’ he said.

‘Are you here to give me judgement, lord?’ she asked.

He gave a single shake of his head, his eyes steady on her.

‘I cannot offer redemption or forgiveness,’ he said. The gun on his shoulder twitched again. Its targeting lenses focused on her. ‘All I can offer is death or service, the choice of which rests in your hands, Severita.’

‘I deserve no choice,’ she said.

‘But that is why you are here, is it not? You chose to let a shrine burn.’

‘We are instruments of the Emperor’s will. It is not for us to make choices.’

He looked at her for a long moment, and then crouched down so that he was at eye level with her.

‘You have never had a choice, not since you were taken to the schola, not since you rose to the Sisterhood. Your sin is not that you let a shrine burn, Severita – it is that for once in your life you wanted to make a choice.’

She stared at him, shocked. His gaze was unmoving. The gun on his shoulder had rotated its aim away from her.

‘Choices do not bring us peace, Severita, they are the root of all pain. You are to do penance for your sins, and that will either be in death or in my service as an exile from your sisters.

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