Soul of the Fire

"But if what you say about the chimes being here in this world is true," a Sister in the back said in a whine, "then the magic of the bond will fail, too, so we would have no protection."

Ann sighed and tried to remain patient with these frightened and intimidated women. She reminded herself to keep in mind these women had been in the savage hands of the enemy for a long time.

"But the two cancel each other, don't you see."

Ann turned up her palms, like scales, moving them up and down in opposition. "As long as the chimes are here, Jagang's magic doesn't work, and he can't enter your minds." She moved her hands in the opposite direction.

"When the chimes are banished, and if you are Sworn to Richard, then his bond keeps Jagang from your mind. Either one or the other protects you.

"Do you all see? You must only swear to Richard, who leads the fight against Jagang, fights for our cause-the cause of the Light-and you never again need fear the dream walker being able to reach you.

"Sisters, we can get away. Tonight. Right now. Do you at last see? You can be free."

They all stared dumbly. Finally, Sister Rochelle spoke up. "But, we aren't all here."

Ann looked around. "Where are the rest? We will collect them and leave. Where are they?"

Again, the women retreated into frightened silence. Ann snapped her fingers at Sister Rochelle for her to answer. Finally the woman spoke again. "The tents."

Every woman in the room cast her eyes down. The gold rings through their lower lips shone in the candlelight. "What do you mean, the tents?"

Sister Rochelle cleared her throat, trying to keep the tears struggling to break through from doing so.

"Jagang, when one of us displeases him, or he is angry with us, or he wants to punish us, or teach us a lesson, or simply wishes to be cruel, sends us to the tents. The soldiers use us. They pass us around."

Sister Cherna fell to the ground weeping. "We must be whores for his men."

Ann gathered her resolve. "Listen to me, all of you. That ends right now. Right now, you are free. You are again Sisters of the Light. Do you hear me? You are no longer his slaves!"

"But what about the others?" Sister Rochelle asked. "Can you get them?"

Sister Georgia drew up tall and stiff. "You wait here, Prelate. Sister Rochelle, Aubrey, and Kerena will go with me to see what we can do." She gave the three a look. "Won't we? We know what we must do."

The three nodded. Sister Kerena put a hand under Ann's arm.

"You wait here. Will you? Wait here until we return."

"Yes, all right," Ann said. "But you must hurry. We need to get out of here before it gets too late in the night, or we will raise suspicions traipsing through the camp when everyone else is sleeping. We can't wait for-"

"Just wait," Sister Rochelle said in a calm voice. "We will see to it. Everything will be all right."

Sister Georgia turned to the tent full of Sisters. "See to it she waits, will you? She must wait here."

The Sisters nodded. Ann put her fists on her hips.

"If you take too long, we will have to leave without you. Do you understand? We can't-"

Sister Rochelle put a hand against Ann's shoulder. "We will be back in plenty of time. Wait."

Ann sighed. "The Creator be — with you."

Ann sat among Sisters, who seemed to recede back into the prison of their private thoughts. Their joy, so evident when they had first seen her, had faded. They were once again distant and unresponsive.

They stared off without listening as Ann tried telling them some of the lighter stories of her adventures. She chuckled as she recounted incommodious moments, hoping someone would become interested and perhaps smile, at least. No one did.

None of them asked anything, or even seemed to be listening. They would no longer even meet her gaze. Like trapped animals, they wanted only to escape the terror.

Ann was growing more uncomfortable by the moment. By the moment, sitting among these women she knew so well, her hackles were beginning to rise at the thought that maybe she didn't know them as well as she had believed.

Sometimes, trapped animals didn't know enough to run for an open gate.

When the tent flap opened, they scooted away from her. Ann rose.

Four huge men, layered in leather plates, belts, straps, hides over their shoulders, and weapons jangling from their belts, ducked into the tent, followed by Sisters Georgia, Rochelle, Aubrey, and Kerena. The men's stringy, greasy hair whipped from side to side as they checked to each side. By the way they carried themselves they looked to Ann to be men of more authority than mere soldiers.

Sister Rochelle pointed. "That's her. The Prelate of the Sisters of the Light."

"Rochelle," Ann growled, "what's this about? What do you think-"

The man seeming to be in charge seized her jaw, turning her head left, then right, as he appraised her. "You sure?" His dark glower moved to Sister Rochelle. "She looks like the rest of the beggars to me."