The Grove(128)
* * *
Being a morning person, Aradin chose to walk the Grove wall before breakfast, rather than after. Despite the fact that two thirds of the magic was now controlled rather than rolling around the place from locus tree to locus tree in slow, mutation-inducing surges, it still had to go somewhere. Aradin and Teral could use the power from the northern and southern tree-rifts to begin making changes to the warped plants and animals, turning them docile and obedient, but not the eastern one.
The power of Saleria’s locus tree was nowhere near as wild as it had been. It was not, however, under the Witch’s control, either Host or Guide. That meant the eastern stretch of the wall and the side-paths nearest the middle tree had to be tended warily as well as carefully. Aradin considered it an invigorating, appetite-building task.
Breakfast, however, did not await him in the Keeper’s house when he returned. Instead, teal-clad men seized Aradin the moment he entered through the back door, clasped metal cuffs around both of his wrists with ominous clacks, and dragged him to the Keeper’s study . . . where a rather smug-looking Deacon Shanno, seated in Saleria’s chair, was staring down a red-faced Daranen.
“And I’m telling you that parchment was signed by all four Gods!” the scribe growled. He thumped his fist on the desk. “You have no right to interfere with what the Gods in Their infinite wisdom have decreed!”
“So you say,” Shanno drawled, picking up the paper with its glowing runes. He tensed his muscles, attempting to tear it. It didn’t budge. His smug look faded a little, and he tensed and tried again. A third time, and he crumpled up the paper, tossing it on the desk in disgust. “Cheap theatrics! Some sort of anti-tampering spell, no doubt.”
(I don’t like the looks of this,) Teral told him, as both Guide and Host watched the paper uncrumple itself, smoothing out as flat as if it had never been creased.
(Go tell Saleria what that blond brat is trying to do,) Aradin ordered. (I’ll be fine on my own. They don’t dare harm me, in case it is the truth. I’ll be demanding a Truth Stone to swear it, too.)
(You do that, but be careful. I’ll have her bring up the matter with Kata and Jinga directly, if I have to.) A step back, and Teral vanished from his Host’s Doorway.
“You cannot tear what the Gods have signed, Deacon,” Aradin stated calmly. “And it is signed by the Gods Kata, Jinga, Darkhan, and Dark Ana. Bring me a Truth Stone, and I will prove my declaration true.”
Shanno sneered at that. “The words of a foreigner are near-useless!”
“A Truth Stone is a Truth Stone,” Aradin countered. “Or a Truth Wand, for that matter. I know they exist in Katan.”
“You can swear all you like that the Gods signed this . . . thing,” Shanno retorted, flicking a finger at the sheet. “Unless the Gods Themselves swear it, then for all we know, you have been tricked or deluded into believing it was Their hand, when it was in reality crafted by that power-thieving braggart who now tries to call himself our king!”
Aradin had no clue what he was talking about, though he had a fairly shrewd idea for why. “Deacon Shanno, your hunger for power has caused you to suffer from delusions. I come here at the will of my Gods, with no falsehood or pretense, to be the assistant to Keeper Saleria. Her Gods, your Gods, have accepted my presence.”
“Well, if that’s so, then why don’t we just ask the Keeper herself?” Shanno offered mock-reasonably. He made a show of looking around the room, then shrugged. “Oh dear, it seems she’s nowhere to be found. For all we know, you are the unwitting, unknowing distraction manipulated into coming to Groveham by hidden strings so that the rebels of the so-called kingdom of Nightfall could kidnap Her Holiness.”
Aradin blinked. The younger man’s logic was convoluted, absurd . . . and very, very hard to disprove via Truth Stone. “You are delusional, Shanno of the family Lorwethen. There’s no other word for it in your language. Delusional,” he repeated. He looked at the guards holding him, clad in the imperial blue-green uniform of Katan. “I’ll bet he wouldn’t even take Keeper Saleria’s word once she returns that I am here with her permission as Keeper of the Grove.”
“So you say,” the stern-faced guard on his left said. He lifted his square chin at Shanno. “And he says otherwise. Given that the rebellious Nightfallers have overthrown the true King of Katan . . . I find myself disinclined to believe the word of any foreigner right now.”
“Then fetch me a Truth Stone, or a trusted equivalent,” Aradin said, staring over Shanno’s head. “I have the right under the Laws of God and Man to be questioned by spell. If my words are true, then I am innocent of any wrongdoing, and must be set free.”