'So let's concentrate on what we three can do right now. Marshal General Kastenas is well aware of every facet of our defence. Admiral Iliev has the navy working so well an undersized cod would have trouble getting through undetected. Now, please, where are we in Estorr? I still see graffiti. I still get complaints from the Order.'
Arducius sighed. 'We can't pretend it's easy out there.'
'Welcome to my world,' said Herine. 'Be specific'
There were days, Herine considered, when it seemed that everyone she placed in a position of responsibility looked to her for answers. Arducius's expression signified that today might be one of those days.
'At the core, there are two of us and, I would estimate, two thousand Order Readers, Speakers and, of course, Felice Koroyan, in Estorr at the moment. She appears wherever we are. I remember what you said about winning the theological argument and that is what we are trying to do. Yet, while we are in one place talking to people about what we represent, trying to find latent ability and calming anxieties, in a hundred other places, the Chancellor has Readers outside Houses of Masks denouncing us as heretics, morning, noon and night. Not to mention raising fears of Gorian's return.'
'It is the problem Order missionaries have faced for hundreds of cycles in new territories.'
'But this is Estorr. This is home,' said Ossacer.
'Not to the Ascendancy it isn't,' snapped Herine. 'No one said this would be easy. You have my support because I believe in you. What more do you want?'
'Legislation,' said Arducius.
'To do what? Force people to listen and agree with what you say? Make it illegal to disagree with Arducius and Ossacer? God-embrace-me, sometimes I wonder if you two have any sense at all. Have you really not analysed why it is you are struggling?'
A contemplative quiet fell. The two Ascendants looked at each other, something Herine found disconcerting given Ossacer's blindness. There was such passion in those eyes. It was so difficult to believe he really could not see except through the energy trails filling his mind.
'Hard work and belief are not enough,' she said. 'I've had reports on your efforts, of course I have. And no one can fault the hours you put in. But you're trying to change every mind in Estorr at the same time and you will not succeed.'
'It's not that,' said Arducius. 'The problem is that the Order undo all our efforts as soon as we move on. And they have muscle, threats and history as weapons we do not possess.'
Herine breathed in deep. She felt like laughing. 'Of all the people in the world, you should know the lengths the Order are prepared to go to maintain their hold on the citizens' religious hearts. And it doesn't matter that actually, you and I believe in the same God they worship. You are fighting the wrong battle out there. It won't work here like it does in some far-flung corner of Bahkir or Morasia.' She put a hand to her brow. 'Is it me or am I repeating myself here?'
'No, well, perhaps a little,' said Arducius. He smiled. 'And we are eternally grateful for your help, advice and support.'
'I should hope so,' said Herine. 'And you should remember that the Advocate is always right.'
'I never doubt it,' said Ossacer and Herine could see that he had missed the humour. Again.
'That's why you aren't in the cells as Felice demands every day. As do a growing number of my citizens.'
'So what is the Advocate's word about our tactics this morning?' asked Arducius, a twinkle in his eye.
'Undermine your enemy,' said Herine. 'Pull up the corner of the mosaic, don't try to break it in the middle. Do your research. Find the Readers and Speakers who sympathise. Speak to them quietly, bring them together. They are out there somewhere. And if they are scared, protect them. You have the Ascendancy guard. Almost a thousand Conquord professional soldiers. Use them. And next time you speak to the citizens, do it from a House of Masks, not from a fountain.'
Herine leant back in her chair watching them see how it all made sense. How it all seemed so simple. She had Jhered to thank for that. A man for whom most people's lives were unnecessarily complicated.
'You think we should have thought of this for ourselves,' said Ossacer.
Herine raised her eyebrows. 'I think the Academy is unstructured in its approach to everything but teaching. I think you don't use all the facilities and services the Conquord has for its favoured institutions. But I also think you are a very young organisation and running your operation in Westfallen is a world away from becoming a Conquord-wide organisation. You were right when you told me it would take generations. But if your enemy becomes your friend, you will find the path smoother and straighter. The Order has been operating that way for a long time. It's only Felice who believes suppression is a better way.'
'Wrong, isn't she?' said Arducius.
'Some people never learn,' said Herine. 'Don't count yourselves amongst them.'
Ossacer spread his hands suddenly. 'We should talk to Marshal Vasselis, shouldn't we?'
'Congratulations, you're thinking,' said Herine. 'But be careful when you talk to him. Remember what his service to the Ascendancy has cost him. He's not the man you remember from your youth.'
Arducius inclined his head. 'We did try to include him in the work of the Academy. He'd have been the perfect figurehead. He refused. As far as I know, he hasn't left Caraduk, barely left his villa in Cirandon, for years.'
'Well, he gets out a little more than that,' said Herine. 'He's still a functioning and excellent Marshal Defender. But he lost his heir and they can have no more children. He's broken.'
'Then perhaps we should leave him alone,' said Ossacer. 'Let him have peace.'
Herine shook her head. 'Don't do that. He's here in a few days and we're travelling to the Solastro Palace for the Senate meeting together. Talk to him then. Let him decide. He would be further damaged if he felt you thought him useless because of Kovan.'
Still that name brought a tear to the eye of the Ascendants. Another hero of the Conquord. Only seventeen when he gave his life to save Mirron and perhaps the whole Conquord with her. But Arvan Vasselis, his father, had found no glory or comfort in the manner of his death. It was Herine's most enduring sadness. A friend had been stolen from her and replaced with something hollow.
'My Advocate?'
'Yes ... Arducius. Sorry, miles away.'
'We know you didn't come here just to tell us where we're going wrong in Estorr. What do you need from us?'
There was suspicion in Ossacer's blind gaze. And knowledge in his brother's.
'You haven't taken any of the next generation out with you yet, have you?'
'Not blooded them, you mean?' said Ossacer.
'I don't much care which words you use. I'm asking if they've been out with you. If they've demonstrated abilities in public and under pressure.'
Herine stared at Ossacer, knowing he could read her mood, daring him to say more. He was no longer timid, that was for sure. Sometimes, she wished he still hid behind his disability. His eyes displayed a wash of bright colours, then settled to a cool blue.
'No, they haven't been with us. It's risky out there. And until we are certain they can handle the hate and the suspicion they won't come out.'
'Very laudable, and I agree absolutely,' said Herine. 'Until yesterday and this morning. And now I have changed my mind. The Conquord is readying for war, as you are aware. The Ascendancy must also make ready. We may well have need of you. It seems that not only was your friend Harban, the emotional Karku, speaking some sense, the Tsardon are attacking Gosland and Gestern.'
Ossacer's face had gone grey. 'And what exactly is it that you expect us to do, my Advocate?'
'Oh dear,' said Herine, a flush of frustration rushing through her. 'I saw this coming.'
'I'm sorry, I don't follow,' said Ossacer.
'Yes, you damn well do,' said Herine. 'And I expect you to do what the Conquord demands. What the general of your army demands, should you be in the field. And that, be assured, is where I expect you to be. After all, I should thi
nk a man who can bring down hillsides, cause hurricanes and raise tidal waves might be quite useful in a fight, don't you?'
'And we will undo everything we have striven so hard to achieve in the last ten years,' said Ossacer.
'Gorian's already doing that for you. We have to fight this threat.'
‘I will not conduct a Work that results in death and neither will any of the new generation,' said Ossacer.
'You and they will do as ordered by your commanding officer,' said Herine. She pushed herself to her feet and loomed over Ossacer, who did not flinch. 'People that refuse orders on the battlefield are executed.'
'So be it. But I will go to the embrace of God clear of conscience.'
'And burned,' she said. 'Their ashes scattered to the winds.'
'You cannot scare me, my Advocate. I will not change who I am.'
'Damn you, war changes everything for everyone.' Herine's shout bounced from the stone and glass of the Chancellery. 'Have you so short a memory that you forget that? You have already killed in battle and in doing so saved the Conquord. Your conscience is clear to do so again.'
She turned away and bit her tongue against saying more.
‘I think we should all take a breath,' said Arducius quietly. 'Tempers flare when our abilities are discussed in here as they do in the streets of Estorr. Ossacer, we all understand your position but even you might have to step away from it in the depths of war. And my Advocate, if I may, I suspect that you respect and even support Ossacer's stance.'
'Someone else who can read my damn mind,' muttered Herine. 'Am I such an open book?'
'My Advocate?'
She waved her hand. 'Never mind.'
'We will play our part in any conflict should it arise,' said Arducius. Ossacer opened his mouth and was hushed with a touch. 'What that part is will be decided at the time. As for the new generation, Herine, I don't know. They are untried and if war is as close as you think, there will be no time to school them.'
'You were untried and you were fourteen. Three years younger than the next five Ascendants.'
'And we are still paying the price,' said Arducius. 'We will never be free of the nightmares, the sound of the screams and the tumbling of rock. The sucking of water and the scream of wind. We have to live with what we have done. An individual soldier kills or is killed. We stand back and murder thousands.'
'Yes!' Herine smiled, aware the expression was inappropriate. 'And think how many Conquord citizens you save in so doing.'
'You would not think like that if the power was in your body,' said Ossacer. 'One step too far and we are no better than Gorian.'
'And I'm sure Gorian will exercise no restraint whatever.' Herine sucked her top lip. There was such passion in these young men. And such fear. She continued.
'I understand. I do. I do not envy you the weight upon your shoulders, the duty of care to those who follow you. But we all have responsibility to the Conquord and its citizens. Whether you feel it is a blessing or a curse, you have abilities that can make a significant, perhaps critical difference in times of war. I cannot ignore that.'
'As you cannot ignore the aftermath,' said Ossacer. 'I am offended by the assumption that the Ascendants are weapons first and foremost. We are not. We are people like you.'
'Wrong,' said Herine. She sat back down in her chair. 'Firstly, you are not like me or anyone else in this world. You are the first of a new breed of human beings, with all the glory and pain that comes with that. And second, it is your abilities that are the weapons, not you, Ossacer Westfallen. A farmer trains for war. He will be given a sarissa, bow or gladius, depending on his aptitude. That is his weapon.'
'I am not a soldier and I will not kill,' said Ossacer. 'And I will not allow my fellow Ascendants to be used so casually.'
'Allow? You are neither Mother of the Ascendancy nor are you Advocate. We will decide what is allowed and what is not.'
'I understand that we must defend ourselves against invaders. I understand the necessity for war. But I live to heal, not to kill.'
'Then be a battlefield surgeon, damn you.' Another shout, another echo. 'And stop wasting my time.' Herine stood and moved towards the door. 'I will say it one more time and you will deal with it in an appropriate way. Should war break out, you and the five will be despatched to the armies, there to do what your commanding officer demands. Failure to do so will result in your execution for cowardice or insubordination. And where will your precious Ascendancy and principles be then?'
She tore open the door and stalked away down the corridor, past the bust of Father Kessian.
'Live in the real world. See what I see.' She let her voice drop. 'Idealists. God deliver me from idealists.'
Roberto Del Aglios had long admitted to himself a certain selfish pleasure in coming to Gosland, despite the reason for his journey. He had sent fast messengers ahead of him and a large welcoming party was waiting for him on the main border crossing. A border crossing bristling with weaponry.
'I knew you wouldn't let me down,' he said quietly.
In all his years travelling to and from Sirrane, he hadn't travelled this way, always taking to the river further north and rowing under the grand arch he was now about to cross. It looked ordinary from the river. From here it was a spectacular and imposing statement of Conquord power.
Seated ten miles south of the Sirranean border, the Gorneon Bridge over the wide, sluggish River Triesk had been a gateway for Conquord legions marching to the invasion of Tsard. The gatehouse on the Tsardon bank of the river was carved with heroic figures of the past and rose forty feet at its highest. Ballistae poked from tower windows, battlements were manned with archers and the huge iron-bound gates, wide enough for a column fifteen men across, were closed against the enemy. Flags flew from six places and statues placed in alcoves adorned the structure, daring any Tsardon to attack.
Those gates rumbled open when Roberto approached. He was welcomed through with cheers and salutes which he returned with a humble nod. The span of the bridge rose in front of him. Behind it, the fortifications on the Gosland bank were formidable. Concrete and stone towers and a fortress that would produce a withering fire on an enemy attempting a crossing. Looming into the sky and glowering down, a barrier that only a fool would attempt to bring down.
It was enough alone to banish any lingering doubts that Roberto might have had about the chances of the small Tsardon force breaching the Conquord borders. Standing in front of the honour guard of shining legionaries were a trio that warmed his heart.
'Damn protocol,' said Roberto, sliding from his horse and striding quickly up the slope. He was aware he was grinning like a fool but more keenly he felt guilt that he had ignored them for so long.
'Hello Roberto.'
'Dahnishev, you sly bastard, what are you doing here?'
Roberto crushed his old friend, the man who had served as his surgeon for so many years on campaign, into a huge embrace. The Goslander miracle-worker. Still going strong.
'Hey, careful of an old man's bones,' grunted Dahnishev.
Roberto laughed. 'You will never grow old.'
And he didn't look it. He must have been pushing eighty and had the appearance of a man thirty years younger. A man Roberto's age. Tall, slender and with that sparkle of genius still in his eyes.
'Anyway. Heard you were coming. Thought you might want a check-up.'
'I may take you up on that,' said Roberto, breaking away. 'That Sirranean food is challenging.' He moved along the line.
'General Kell.' She proffered a hand but he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks. 'Dina, it has been too long.'
'For me also, Roberto. Wonderful to see you.'
'And finally, if it isn't Pavel Nunan.' The two men clasped hands and Roberto clapped him on the back. 'Fatherhood been good to you, General ?'
Nunan chuckled. 'Ask Dina. She's the one that sees me in action.'
'He had a lot to learn,' said Kell. 'He treats the three of them like a little l
egion. I'm surprised they aren't lined up here in front of you rather than in Estorr with their grandparents.'
'She exaggerates. They may have wooden swords but they also have horses and I can't think where the cavalry influence comes from.'
'A noble calling, and it would have been a pleasure to see them. Later perhaps. But talking of family, where is my little brother? Where is Adranis?'
'Not so little, I can assure you,' said Kell.
She turned and looked along the bridge to where the honour guard stood. She made a beckoning gesture and the lead horseman dismounted and marched towards them. Roberto's heart swelled. Adranis removed his impeccable plumed helmet and swept his cloak over one shoulder to reveal equally perfect armour. His bearing was assured, his pace even. Kell was right, he was not little. Adranis had grown into a powerful figure. Tall, black-haired and with a face that had surely broken hearts already. He kept his expression professionally neutral and came to a stop just behind the two generals. Kell glanced at him and raised her eyebrows.
'At ease, Master Del Aglios, for God's sake.'
Adranis glanced quickly left and right before handing his helmet to an aide and rushing forwards to embrace Roberto. He felt the air burst from his lungs and the emotion surge inside him.
'You make me so proud, Adranis. You honour the name of Del Aglios by the very beating of your heart.'
'Where have you been, Roberto?' Deep and melodic, Adranis's voice sounded in his ear. 'Is Sirrane really so enticing you could not break away until now? Until trouble?'
Roberto pushed back and looked into Adranis's eyes.
'Is that admonishment?' he asked, smiling.
'Maybe a little. I've missed you.'
'But I haven't missed news of you. Mother was right to give you to General Kell, I see. Twenty-seven and Master of Horse for the Bear Claws. You're some rider, I understand.'
A Shout for the Dead Page 16