Sir Percivus rode closer, gaze sweeping over the procession. I glimpsed a hint of his face behind the helmet, stern with harsh, sharp features. His features matched his son’s—but little else.
“You speak true.” He guessed, seeing the wagons filled with wounded. “Why, then, do you conceal yourself?”
Using Percy’s drafted story, I pushed melancholy into my words. “I was traveling for a funeral. I mean to honor him, regardless.”
Narrowing his eyes, Sir Percivus directed his horse to circle me. His eyes scoured every inch of my face and body.
“You think you can fool me?” He growled. “You think I haven’t heard of the Bloodstone’s thieves? Of the impersonators who stole my name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“Perhaps some time in the dungeons will jog your memory.”
A brown mare broke from the caravan, riding to my side. Percy lifted his hat, revealing his face. “Father,” He said cautiously, before enthusiasm flooded his tone. “Father! It’s been so long. Why don’t we just calm down and talk about this, like civilized folk?”
“I should have known.” Sir Percivus eyed his son with disappointment. “Arrest them!” He barked. “Search the caravan—there’s more of them.”
“Wait,” I called. “We have royal immunity. By decree of the king, you can do no harm to us.”
The bullshit flowed smoothly from my mouth. Sir Percivus held up a fist, ordering his men to halt. “Speak.”
“We’re under the service of the Archon.” I continued. “We’ve been granted pardon from our sins in exchange for our labor.”
“Really? And what has the Archon ordered you to do?”
“Warn you,” I said. “Of our impending doom.”
* * *
Things had gone better than I expected. Sir Percivus had ordered his men to guide the refugees into the city, sending one man back to the gates to deliver word of their forthcoming arrival. The five of us were instead shepherded away by the officer himself and a unit of temple knights, dressed in glittering steel and sea-blue tabards.
We were to be brought before the governor. But in Therapne, the governor was also the Grand Cleric. The truth would fall upon his ears like flaming coals.Heresy. My mind whirled as we rode, coming up with a story to see us from his chambers in one piece.
Seas, Therapne was beautiful. And distracting. The buildings were tall and thin, elegant shafts of marble supported by beautifully carved pillars and beams. Rivers and streams rushed through the plains, cutting through gardens of flowers with quaint stone bridges crossing the drink.
Four statues stood watch over the city, one for each of the gods. The Maiden, foremost of them all, stood facing north, her hooded countenance watching over our arrival.
Sir Percivus led us to the grand temple, an even more impressive edifice than Serifos’. I marveled at the high ceiling and the ancient murals carved into the stone: an entire tapestry, portraying the tale of the Maiden, wrapped around the building.
The officer’s heavy boots clinked on the stone path as he dismounted, and he ordered us to follow suit. Climbing off Athena, I hurried to Seraphim’s side. She looked down at me and winked, perhaps pleased with the story I’d woven. The three men joined us. Corralled into the center of the knights, we were guided inside.
An enormous antechamber greeted us, lit by a chandelier the size of a carriage hanging above a statue of the Maiden pouring water from an urn into a basin. News of our arrival must have preceded us; several members of the clergy already gathered around the statue, clad in white with pale blue scarves.
A middle-aged man with graying black hair was the most senior of the lot, denoted by a wide-brimmed hat decorated with dangling tassels. His harsh green eyes settled on Sir Percivus.
“What is the meaning of this—” He trailed off, face blanching when he noticed Eleos. Silence overtook him before anger prevailed, his face trembling with rage. “Howdareyou set foot in these halls again?”
Eleos glared bitterly at the Grand Cleric. “I didn’t have much choice. Your men dragged me here.”
Any plans I’d made shattered. Whirling around, I stared at Eleos in shock.
The Grand Priest pointed at him, hand shaking with fury. “You.” He seethed. “Youwere the ones who stole the Maiden’s relic. We heard the news. Read your descriptions. I should have known!” He glanced around, eyeing the pair of guards with the officer. “Search them!”
“You’ve misunderstood.” I blurted out as one guard seized Eleos, and the other grabbed Seraphim. “We didn’t steal the Bloodstone—we were ordered to bring it to you.”
Sir Percivus glanced at me before addressing the Cleric. “She claims the Archon sent them, your holiness. Coupled with the news from Red Bluff, we should hear them out.”
“Red Bluff?” The Grand Cleric repeated. “What of it?”
