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Richard’s voice came in a tone that took some of the color from Pasha’s face。 ‘Which one of these women is the Prelate？’
Pasha gave a bubble of a laugh。 ‘The Prelate is not here。 She is much too busy to 。。。’
‘Take me to her。’
‘You do not see the Prelate when you wish。 She sees you when she has reason to see you。 I can hardly believe Sister Verna has not taught you that we do not allow our boys 。。。’
Richard put the back of his hand against her shoulder and swept her aside as he took another stride into the room； redirecting his glare to the hundreds of eyes watching him。
‘I have something to say。’
The vast room fell to a hush。 From two different places in his mind； the same thought had e forward at the same time。 He recognized each origin。 One was The Adventures of Bonnie Day； the book his father had given him； and the other was the sword’s magic； the knowledge of the sword； the spirits he had danced with。
The memory and message were the same： When you are outnumbered； and the situation is hopeless； you have no option … you must attack。
He knew what the collar was for。 His situation was hopeless。 He had no options。 He let the quiet ring in the chamber until it was unfortable。
His fingers tapped his Rada’Han。 ‘As long as you keep this collar on me； you are my captors； and I am your prisoner。’ Murmurs hummed in the air。 Richard let them trail off before he went on。 ‘Since I have mitted no aggression against you； that makes us enemies。 We are at war。
‘Sister Verna has made a pledge to me that I will be taught to control the gift； and when I have learned what is required； I will be set free。 For now； as long as you keep that pledge； we have a truce。 But there are conditions。’
Richard lifted the red leather rod at his neck； the Agiel； in his hand。 Beyond the rage of the magic； the Agiel was only a dim tingle of pain。 ‘I have been collared before。 The person who put that collar on me brought me pain； to punish me； to teach me； to subdue me。
‘That is the sole purpose of a collar。 You collar a beast。 You collar your enemies。
‘I made her much the same offer I am making you。 I begged her to release me。 She would not。 I was forced to kill her。
‘Not one of you could ever hope to be good enough to lick her boots。 She did as she did because she was tortured and broken； made mad enough to use a collar to hurt people。 She did it against her nature。
‘You；’ he looked to all the eyes； ‘you do it because you think it is your right。 You enslave in the name of your Creator。 I don’t know your Creator。 The only one beyond this world I know who would do as you do is the Keeper。’ The crowd gasped。 ‘As far as I’m concerned； you may as well be the Keeper’s disciples。
‘If you do as she； and use this collar to bring me pain； the truce will be ended。 You may think you hold the leash to this collar； but I promise you； if the truce ends； you will find that what you hold is a bolt of lightning。’
Dead…still silence rang in the room。 Richard rolled up his left sleeve。 He drew the Sword of Truth。 The distinctive sound of steel filled the silence。
‘The Baka Ban Mana are my people。 They have agreed to live in peace with all people from now on。 Anyone who harms one of them will answer to me。 If you do not accept this； do not let the Baka Ban Mana live in peace； our truce will be ended。’
He pointed back with the sword。 ‘Sister Verna captured me。 I have fought her every step of this journey。 She has done everything short of killing me and draping my body over a horse to get me here。 Though she； too； is my captor and enemy； I owe her certain debts。 If anyone lays a finger to her because of me； I will kill that person； and the truce will be ended。’
From the corner of his eye； Richard could see Sister Verna’s eyes close。 Her hand covered her white face。
The crowd gasped as Richard drew his sword across the inside of his arm。 He turned it； wiping both sides in the blood； until it dripped from the tip。
His knuckles white around the hilt； he thrust the blade into the air。
‘I give you a blood oath！ Harm the Baka Ban Mana； harm Sister Verna； or harm me； and the truce will be ended； and I promise you we will have war！ If we have war； I will lay waste to the Palace of the Prophets！’
From the far balcony； where Richard couldn’t see its source； a mocking voice drifted out over the crowd。 All by yourself？’
‘Doubt me at your peril。 I am a prisoner； I have nothing to live for。 I am the flesh of prophecy。 I am the bringer of death。’
No answer came in the silence。 He slammed his sword home into its scabbard。
Richard held his arms out as he gave a gracious bow。 He came up smiling。 ‘Now that we all understand each other； understand the truce； you ladies may go back to your celebration of my capture。’
He turned his back on the stunned crowd。 Sister Verna’s head was lowered； her hand covering her face。 Pasha’s lips were pressed so tightly together they were turning blue。
A stout； stern…faced woman crossed in front of him； stopping before Sister Verna。 The woman held her nose in the air until Sister Verna lifted her head and straightened her back。
‘Sister Verna。 It is obvious you have neither the talent nor skill to be a Sister of the Light。 Your failure is quite beyond the pale。 As of this moment； you are broken to novice； first rank。 You will serve as a novice until such time as； and if the Creator wills； you earn the title of Sister of the Light。’
Sister Verna lifted her chin。 ‘Yes； Sister Maren。’
‘Novices do not speak to a Sister unless asked to！ I did not ask you to speak！’ She held out a hand。 ‘Surrender your dacra。’
Sister Verna flicked her hand； the silver knife appearing from her sleeve。 She twirled it； presented the handle to the other woman； and then stood silent； her eyes straight ahead。
‘At dawn tomorrow； you will report to the kitchens。 You will scrub pots until you are judged worthy to attempt something more demanding of your intelligence。 Do you understand！’
‘Yes； Sister Maren。 I understand。’
‘And if you even look like you are going to give me any back talk； it will be the stables instead of the kitchens； cleaning stalls and hauling manure！’
‘In that case； Sister Maren； I will report directly to the stables； instead of the kitchens； and save your ears what it is I would say to you。’
Sister Maren’s face reddened。 ‘Very well； novice。 The stables it is。’
Sister Maren paused before Richard； giving him a tight smile。 ‘I trust that does not break your truce。’ She lifted her chin and stormed off。
The room was silent。 Richard looked to Sister Verna； but the Sister stared straight ahead。 Pasha； her face set in a scowl； suddenly put herself between them。
‘Verna is no longer your concern。 Your arm is bleeding。 Since you are my charge； I will tend to it。’
She took a calming breath as she twined her fingers together before her waist。 ‘There is a big banquet； to wele you； beginning in the dining room。 Maybe you will feel better about all of us after the banquet。 Everyone is looking forward to it。 Everyone wants a chance to personally wele you。’ She shook a finger at him。 ‘And you will be on your best behavior； young man！’
Having put the sword away； he had put most of the anger away。 Most； but not all。 ‘I’m not hungry。 Show me to my dungeon； child。’
Her fists tightened on her blue skirts。 With a dark look； she considered him a moment。 ‘Very well。 Have it your way。 You can just go to bed without your supper； like a spoiled child。’ She turned on her heel。 ‘Follow me。’
CHAPTER 50
Sister Verna put her hand to the brass lever。 The room was shielded。 She took a controlled breath and then knocked。
A muffled voice behind the heavy door answered。 ‘e。’
The shield dissolved。 She opened the right side of the double doors and stepped in。 Two women sat； each at her own desk； to each side of the door beyond。 Both were writing in ledgers。 Neither looked up。
‘Yes；’ the one to the left said as she continued writing； ‘what is it？’
‘I have e to return the journey book； Sister Ulicia。’
Sister Ulicia wet her ringer and flipped a page。 ‘Yes； just put it on the desk。 Shouldn’t you be at the banquet in honor of your return？ I would think you would want to get reac…quainted with old friends。’
Sister Verna clasped her hands。 ‘I have more important matters to attend than banquets。 I wish to give the journey book to the Prelate； personally。 And I wish to speak with her； Sister Ulicia。’
They both looked up。 ‘Well；’ Sister Ulicia said； ‘the Prelate does not wish to speak with you； Sister Verna。 She is a busy woman。 She can’t be bothered with unimportant matters。’
‘Unimportant！ It is not unimportant！’
‘Do not raise your voice in this office； Sister Verna；’ the other warned。 She dipped her pen in an ink bottle and bent back over her writing。
Sister Verna took a step forward。 The air between the desks； before the door beyond； shimmered su