Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [102]
Rage and disgust swept over Keph-rage at Variance for manipulating him yet again, disgust at himself for allowing it.
"Do you have a plan for everything?" he spat. He felt like an angry child and just as helpless. Variance turned away.
–-
Moonshadow Hall was in chaos.
Feena stole through the corridors of the temple, trying to stay unseen and out of the way. It wasn't easy. Any normal order she could have predicted seemed to have been erased. She had emerged from the archives to discover that the sun had set-her exhausted dreaming had carried through the entire afternoon and much of the evening. Any other night, Moonshadow Hall would be worshiping the moonrise. On a normal new moon night, Selune's faithful would be gathered in the refectory, celebrating Dhauna's New Moon Beneficence. But instead clergy, acolytes, and novices were everywhere. Some were clearly preparing for Dhauna's funeral. Billowing white drapes were being hung. White wax candles laced with silver dust were being set out. From the temple's mortuary came the sound of mourning chants as Dhauna's body was washed and prepared for burial.
But at the same time, other clerics roamed the corridors like dogs. They always moved in pairs at the very least, and all of them carried maces-most leaving the weapons hanging at their belt, but others clenching them tightly. When she happened to pass a window, Feena caught a glimpse of silhouettes standing up on the old walkways that circled Moonshadow Hall's round roof.
It was as if someone were preparing for an attack. Feena remembered the fear in Chandri's tones when she had asked Velsinore about Keph. Tales told among Selune's clergy spoke of Sharran uprisings that could leave shrines and temples in ruins. Was someone concerned that might happen in Yhaunn?
Feena bit her tongue and hurried on, the book of the
New Moon Pact wrapped in a sleeve of her robe and clutched tight. At least chaos set tongues wagging. If nothing else, it had been easy enough to find out where Julith was being held: the winter chapel, a great round chamber that had been built onto the north side of Moonshadow Hall in the distant past as a place for the clergy to worship when bitter weather made the open courtyard unbearable. Julith had been shut inside to await her judgment.
At an intersection of corridors, Feena peered around a corner-only to duck back as a pair of armed priestesses marched past. She caught her breath and willed herself to total silence until they were gone. They wore crested steel caps. The situation seemed to be escalating and to reach the winter chapel, she would need to pass through the temple's busiest areas. She wasn't going to be able to hide much longer.
A heap of abandoned drapes gave her an idea. Drawing the cowl of her robe over her hair, Feena snatched up the drapes and hefted them up in front of her face, then hunched down like an old woman bent under a burden. It was a pitifully crude disguise, but it would have to do. She picked her way carefully along the corridor, peering out past a fold of white fabric.
"When she first encountered another priestess, she tensed. The other woman just rushed past, however, intent on her own tasks. Feena sighed and started to relax a bit.
"Elder sister!" Idruth called. Feena's heart jumped. The cook called her again. "Elder sister! Do you have far to go?"
Feena picked a destination at random and said, "The northwest hall."
She half-turned and peeked at the cook from behind the wrappings. Idruth was lugging a great pot; the savory smell of stew drifted out of it.
"Come to the kitchen when you're done," Idruth ordered. "We have baskets of bread that need to get to the gate. The mob is turning ugly-they want their feast!"
She jogged past toward the temple gates. Feena turned to stare after her before darting away. Preparations for a funeral, fear of an attack-and the poor of Yhaunn had still come expecting the New Moon Beneficence. Another mad bend in the path of chaos!
The hallways grew quiet again as she moved