by Tony Roberts
Valson spoke again. “I must advise that the Fokis may well seek to challenge your actions. They have a voice on the Council of Nobles.”
“The Council of Nobles includes our family – and the Taboz,” Isbel nodded towards Vosgaris. “They will not be able to summon a Council of Nobles without our consent.”
“If you refuse, you run the risk of a revolt amongst the nobility,” Valson warned the empress.
“I doubt it will come to that,” the empress said. “We have evidence here of complicity amongst one or two other families and this will be used to bring them to heel. The nobility are a spent force in the empire in any event. Their greedy behaviour has alienated them from the army and the palace.”
“You are nobility, too, ma’am,” Valson said.
“But the Koros control the army and the palace. Without military backing no coup can succeed.”
“If the people rise up, they can depose you,” Pepil said darkly.
“And who will lead them? One of the greedy nobility that stole from them? The Fokis are without friends outside their own small social circle. They still believe they wield influence, yet they cannot see that their days are at an end.” Isbel waved her hands at the ledgers. “At last here we have evidence to crush them once and for all. Should anyone try to arouse the populace, we shall use this to counter it. When the people see how they’ve been stolen blind by these thieves, their wrath will be redirected against the Fokis and their allies.”
“Nevertheless, your regime is still uncertain; it is still early days and it wouldn’t take much to oust you,” Valson persevered. “I would recommend caution. Remember the Duras managed to raise an army.”
“Leave the nobility to me, Valson. We have little to fear from them. Besides, my husband took care of the Duras army!”
However, Isbel had forgotten one group of people.
____
Gaurel Burnas was not pleased with what he had found in Niake. It had reinforced his conviction that the empire was turning its back on the old ways and the gods, and consequently being punished for such actions. There was an air of despair and apathy prevalent and hope seemed to be dying in the people. Worship had gone from public life, and only the truly devoted still openly prayed. He had seen enough to convince him that he had a sacred mission here in Niake to save them all from the coming storm, and only he could do it.
He had not become High Priest for nothing. He had many friends in the temple, and sought them out. They all had a similar story to tell. There had been a campaign directed against the gods, but by whom it wasn’t known. There were a few suspected people or organisations, but nothing had been found as to who had organised the burning of the temples in the riots. The governor, Evas Extonos, had done nothing to stop the destruction, nor had he done anything to rebuild them. The question was, had he been behind the temples’ destruction?
The local priests thought not. Evas was merely a fence-sitter, seeing which way the wind blew. A concerted campaign of action was not his way. No, they said, Gaurel would have to look elsewhere for the culprits. Certainly the people had carried out the wanton acts of destruction, but as in all riots the majority only joined in for enjoyment, or out of a general feeling of discontent or frustration. It was the small hard core of fanatics who manipulated them that were those Gaurel needed to seek out. They used the unrest to their own selfish ends.
So who had benefitted from the temples’ burning? The other religions for one, certainly. The eastern Divine God, Sonos, as it was called, was a monotheistic religion and dedicated at all costs to forcibly convert the non-believers, or kill them if they refused. This was the threat posed by kingdoms such as Mazag, Zilcia and the Venn Republic. But if they were responsible, why pick on Niake and not Turslenka which was closer to their influence? Then there were the western religions, a mixture of monotheistic beliefs that just as often were at one another’s throats than taking on heretics and infidels. The Tybar religion was one such, a single god they believed in, called Lamka, a god shared by the Epatamian Shanate, an organised state far to the north-west of the empire. They may have a common god, but the two disagreed on the way Lamka should be worshipped and they often clashed as a result.
Then what about those who wished to possess the souls of the people? Taking away their beliefs was the first step. There were whispers that said there were those who worshipped wealth above the gods. These same whispers also said that these people had decided to destroy the gods by destroying the temples in order to corrupt the hearts of the populace and enslave them with greed. There was certainly a problem in Niake with money lenders who charged massive rates of interest. None of this was legal as the gods forbade money lending to individuals, saying it led to sin. The money lenders whispered into people’s ears that they could have possessions beyond their means if they took the loans, and they could repay it back later. Of course, there was no way the loans could be repaid as the interest quickly outstripped the original sum and interest upon interest soon made it impossible for the debtor to pay, and that was when the heavies moved in and took all the debtors’ possessions.
The money lenders were beginning to own a good number of properties in Niake.
Other suspects were the rebel factions in the empire, wishing to promote unrest and rebellion in order for the people to turn to them as they who promised peace and law and order, something they were not enjoying under the current regime. Followers of the Lodrian rebellion had been seen in Niake, as were those from far off Tobralus, another former imperial province that had thrown off the rule of the emperors and gone their own way, remaining loyal to a now dead former emperor.
Gaurel would have to conduct his own investigations, but he would have to tread carefully, the priests warned him. Niake was no longer the safe city it had been before the troubles began. Evas had survived the recent regime changes but at a cost of doing nothing which led to an increase in crime and evil. Gaurel would have to work very hard indeed to counter the bad feeling in the city.
He was not deterred. The first thing he did was to call all the priests in the city to him and arrange for a procession, in praise of all the gods. The march would finish at the site of the former main temple, now a pile of blackened beams and rubble along the main street. The call went out to all those who believed in the gods to attend, and on one day in deepest winter when the icy wind blew from the south west, Gaurel donned his most colourful robes and tallest hat and began the slow walk from the north gate down the main street. Incredibly, hundreds of people stopped work and joined the procession, all chanting in praise of their particular god or gods, following the priests and the three animals that were earmarked for sacrifice.
A brazier had been lit at the possession’s destination and acolytes waited in a half circle for the arrival of the people, so that by the time Gaurel arrived, the main square was packed and nobody could get through. Gaurel stood on the newly swept steps that had led to the temple of the gods, and turned to face the expectant crowd. He raised both hands high and filled his lungs. “People of Niake, people of the empire! The gods are under attack from unbelievers as never before. Only here in our lands are the gods truly worshipped, and it is our sacred task to ensure the gods are remembered and prayed to forever. We inherited our beliefs from our forebears, those who built this empire from nothing to rule the known world and to bring everyone the knowledge of the gods, and we should not turn our backs on their memories. Would you prefer to fall under the heathen sway of the false gods of the east?”
There was a roar of denial.
“Would you bow down to the false god of the Tybar?”
There was an even bigger roar. Gaurel nodded in agreement. “Then it is up to us to show them, to show the heretics, the unbelievers, the godless, the infidels, the shallow, the greedy, the evil followers of false beliefs, that the gods are still here and that they will once more be worshipped in Niake without fear!”
The people shouted in delight, and the three animals were led to t
he steps. Gaurel produced a large shiny knife and dragged a confused wool beast towards him. On the ground rested a large bowl and the animal’s throat was sliced open and as two acolytes held the dying beast, allowing the beast’s blood to fall into the bowl. Once dead, it was laid on the steps and its belly sliced open. The entrails were pulled out and passed to Gaurel who held them up against the grey sky. He examined them closely, then cast them into the brazier.
“I see a glorious future for the gods!” he declared.
The roar could be heard all over Niake. Sitting behind his desk, Evas turned and peered out of the window behind him. The square was directly below and the noise was deafening. Evas turned back and faced the two men stood on the other side of the desk. “There are no laws against a religious festival in Niake,” he said to the two men.
One of the men wore a thick black beard and looked as if he’d spent many years in the sun. His companion was clean shaven, slim and well dressed. “My friend here objects to the banning of worship of other religions, governor,” the slim man replied.
“The Empire is only for the gods we believe in and not for other religions, Habnas.”
Habnas conversed with the bearded man in a language Evas didn’t understand. The governor tapped the table. “Please, in Kastanian.”
“My friend does not speak Kastanian,” Habnas said.
“Then why does he wish to preach in Niake? It seems nonsensical asking him to practice his religion here when he cannot speak the official language. What language does he speak?”
Habnas smiled thinly. “That doesn’t matter, governor. What does is that you’re denying him a fair opportunity to freely preach in your city.”
Evas spread his hands. “Unless he can communicate with the people here, I can’t see any point in him doing so. I’m sorry, but permission is denied.”
Habnas frowned and shot off a rapid sentence to the bearded man. The man chattered back, clearly angry. He pointed his finger at the governor and was beginning to get quite worked up. Evas clicked his fingers at a guard and indicated the duo. “Escort them out. If they resist, you can use whatever force necessary to do so.”
The guard nodded and advanced, his hands outspread to take hold of the two. Habnas pointed at the governor. “You will regret this action, governor! Changes are coming and sticking to the old ways is foolish! They are doomed, like this empire!”
As the guard dragged both out, cuffing the bearded man round the head, Evas remained sitting staring at the door. “Well, well,” he muttered to himself, “my first Tybar.” He decided to write to Kastan. There was much to say. He wondered about the new regime and what exactly to communicate. He guessed who may be behind the unrest in Niake, but his experiences in trying to keep control had taught him it was best not to do anything unless backed by the ruling regime. The past three regimes hadn’t been interested in either listening to his warnings or believing them. All they had wanted to do was to collect money and do nothing in return. They had wanted to hear professions of loyalty and praise for who they were and what they were doing. If he had tried to expose problems the regimes may well have seen him as a nuisance and had him replaced, so he had judged it prudent to remain silent.
But this new regime seemed different. He was something of a good judge of people, and his impression of the Koros was that they, at least, seemed interested in the future of the empire. They had upset plenty of people but they were upsetting those who had been responsible for much of the empire’s problems. He just hoped they didn’t go too far and upset too many and get deposed. Besides, he knew Astiras and had found him to be a determined and basically honest fellow.
Evas had done the expected when Astiras had seized power and sent a letter congratulating him and professing his loyalty, but he got the impression such fawning sycophantic messages hadn’t been appreciated. Thereafter he’d sent just blunt reports without flowery greetings. He believed the Koros wanted the important details rather than being flattered and so forth. What he got from Kastan were brief and concise messages telling him to do this and do that. They wanted updates and situation reports on the conditions in Niake, and to his surprise, had even sent money to help with the road repairs in the province. The last three regimes had never done that; they’d taken money and then expected the provinces to pay for their upkeep on top of that, which went some way to explain why things had become run down of late.
Evas dipped his quill in the ink pot before him and poised the tip over the sheet of paper in front of him. What should he say? He decided to be honest and blunt. The Koros wanted facts, not lies. They wanted an honest appraisal, not words of praise and gushing loyalty. If it displeased them, what he was going to say, it was only an appraisal of what really was going on.
To be honest, he sympathised with Gaurel. The city wanted the temples rebuilt and wanted to worship the gods. In these difficult times it was more important than ever for the people to cling to their beliefs. That had been the problem with the merchants, counsels and lawyers who had ruled Kastania over the past few years. They had just not understood anything other than making large amounts of money for themselves. They had bled the treasury, and provinces, dry and abandoned their people and their gods, all for personal wealth and material gain. But now they had a soldier in charge and he was shaking things up, and woe betide anyone who got in his way. He fought with the iron fist and the sword, rather than the deceit and regulations his predecessors had.
Perhaps it was time to come down off the fence?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The snow blanketed the whole countryside. It was bitterly cold and Astiras remembered all too well just how bad it could get in Bragal in the winter. The blizzard had come and gone, and in its place was a fantastic panorama of sculpture, created by nature. The tents and wagons had half their sides covered in drifts and men were out trampling down the snow in the camp, their breath clouding around their heads as they tried to get warm.
“I’d forgotten how cold it could get here,” Teduskis commented, beating his hands together, his nose red. “Gods, how I hate the winter!”
“I hadn’t,” Astiras replied, grimacing as his fingers sent shafts of pain up his arms, protesting at being used. The emperor was flexing his gauntlets, testing the leather and steel out.
The chargers were hunched miserably in a group, their blankets hanging limply down off their backs. They had been tethered in the lee of a grove of trees and had escaped the worst of the blizzard, but even so they presented a sorry sight. The bodyguard were busy tending them, breaking the ice in the water buckets and thrashing out the hay from the supply wagon.
Fires were centres of life. Men gathered round and eagerly awaited the brewing of klee, or just hot water, and strips of dried meat were sizzling over the fires. Breakfast in Bragal was usually meat – the cold demanded lots of fuel for the body and meat gave this.
The scouts were in and their reports presented to Astiras. Military campaigns in winter were normally frowned on, and memories of army revolts in the past when they had been asked to remain in the field were always in mind when planning one. Astiras had no worries on that score from these men; one third were mercenaries who had taken gold, another third professionals with previous experience under Astiras in Bragal. The remainder were the new recruits, men who were untried and unknown. If trouble was to come it would be from these men. Currently they were too miserable and lost in their own troubles to look outwards.
“How far is the village, sire?” Teduskis asked, looking at a dazzling white slope half a league distant.
“On the other side of that,” Astiras nodded at the slope. “They won’t be expecting us.”
Teduskis chuckled. “All the better.”
They packed up camp and set off, the spearmen ploughing through the drifts, upwards towards the hill. The route was planned so that they used the downwind side of the hill to climb, where the drift was not so deep. The cavalry came next followed by the mercenaries and finally the imperial arche
rs. The scouting had been done and they knew what lay ahead. The two spear companies kept on switching every quarter league so as not to exhaust them; and the four lines of men interchanged more frequently than that within each company. The snow became shallower so that it was only ankle deep on the higher slopes and they made better progress, leaving the wagons in the valley. Their drovers would have to clear the road to the village, something that would take all day.
At the top of the hill the Bragalese village came into view, a neat collection of wooden huts and shacks with fenced compounds for beasts, huddled in between three hills and astride a brook that was clearly frozen. Smoke spiralled out from chimneys and people were moving about, black objects amongst the white and brown.
As the men tramped downhill through the deepening snow, shouts of alarm went up from the villagers. The sight of seven hundred men coming towards them sent the villagers into panic. They only numbered some sixty.
As the soldiers reached the boundary of the village, a delegation came out anxiously, their faces reflecting the alarm they felt. The spearmen stood at the ready, points wickedly aimed at the five man delegation.
Astiras remained in his saddle and looked down at the wretched people. “Hear me and know that you are under the rule of Kastania and shall be forever. You are to pay a tithe to me, and to obey the laws of the empire. Failure to do so will result in severe penalties.”
“Lord, we are a poor people,” the village leader protested, “and cannot afford a tax. We only wish to be left alone in peace.”
“Is that the peace that includes slaughtering my people?” Astiras asked icily. “I know you all too well. This village provided men who two summers ago took part in the butchering of Kastanian villagers two valleys to the west.”