'Lose it, devil boy,' said a voice. The point pushed harder, breaking the skin. 'Or sentence is carried out here and now.'
Arducius let the Work dissipate. The howling subsided. The other soldier got up, dusted down his skirts and breastplate, rearranged his Armour of God cloak and walked towards him. Arducius held his head high.
'You come with us. The Chancellor wants to see you. We'll come back for the brats.' The soldier stood right in front of him. He was a centurion. There was blood on his gladius. 'Very impressive trick. Pity it'll be your last, eh?'
it won't be, and you'll never know it's coming,' said Arducius. 'Murderer.'
The man frowned and took off his helmet. He was greying and short-haired, eyes hard and full of hate.
‘I don't recall asking you to speak, devil boy.'
His helmet connected with the side of Arducius's head. He was conscious long enough to fear for his bones when he hit the ground.
When Arducius opened his eyes it was to see Ossacer's face looking above him. There were hands on his head and a throbbing pain that dissipated quickly. He smiled but Ossacer's expression bade him drop it.
'Don't,' he said quietly. 'Had to fix you, but pretend you're hurt, all right? They'd kill me if they knew what I'd done.'
Arducius frowned. He felt fine. A blow to his head that Ossacer had plainly eased but apart from that. He looked down his body. His toga was smeared red. He started.
'Don't worry, Ardu. It isn't yours. You fell on a victim of our glorious Chancellor.' Ossacer raised his eyebrows. 'Broke your arm, dear brother. And a couple of fingers. You really should let me investigate how to fix that brittleness.'
Arducius shook his head. 'Keeps me careful.'
Memory swam back into his mind.
'A bit late now, anyway. You didn't make it to the safe room either? Where are we?'
'Chancellery,' said Ossacer. 'Why don't you sit up. Remember your head hurts.'
Arducius was lying on a recliner in front of the cold fireplace. He put an arm on its back and helped himself up, Ossacer's hands on his shoulders pushing him. The Chancellery was ablaze with light. And it was crowded. Arducius's heart fell.
The eleventh-strand trio were there, sitting on a recliner at right angles to his, staring at their feet. Two of the tenth strand as well, Cygalius who was in no condition to run and big Bryn, named for the old dear departed blacksmith of Westfallen and just as strong. No doubt he had stayed with his brother. Brave but foolish, but still he stood over the prone Cygalius, daring anyone to try and hurt him. Andreas and Meera were with them too, sitting on high-backed chairs pushed together so Meera could put an arm round the old man's shoulders.
All of them were surrounded by Armour of God soldiers. They ringed the Chancellery and had bows or swords ready. They stood at a safe distance and they watched. Ossacer and Arducius kept their voices low.
'What about the others?' asked Arducius.
'You know more than me,' said Ossacer.
'The little ones made it. I didn't see anyone else.'
'Let's hope the rest of the tenth made it down there too. Haven't seen Hesther either. If she's made it, we still have some hope.'
'They know where the twelfth went,' said Arducius. 'They saw when they caught me.'
'There's still time,' said Ossacer. 'We're never helpless.'
Arducius nodded at the watchful guards. 'Yes but we can't beat this many. Not you, me and Bryn together.'
'And you're wondering why we aren't already dead.'
'The thought had occurred.'
‘I think we have the Chancellor to thank for that. We're public enemies, don't forget. She'll want to make the execution a piece of theatre.'
'That is not a comforting image.'
'No but it does give us more opportunity.'
The door to the Chancellery opened. Felice Koroyan walked in.
'Act one?' said Arducius.
Ossacer nodded.
The Chancellor walked slowly around her captives, appraising each of them in turn and completing her circuit in front of Ossacer and Arducius.
'Well, Ossacer, you said you wanted to take tea with me in the Chancellery and now it seems we have our opportunity. Not quite as you envisaged, I expect, but it really is the best I can do.' She smiled indulgently and cast her gaze quickly around the room. ‘I missed this place. One in which to entertain, to contemplate matters of faith and to discuss the propagation of the Omniscient among the peoples of the Conquord. And you left it just as I left it. How kind.'
'Like I also said, we are but tenants. We were always happy to return your buildings to you and join you under the grace of God,' replied Ossacer.
Koroyan's expression took on disgust. 'You will join no one under the grace of God the Omniscient. Whatever foul idols you worship have no place here. And your presence has tainted this place. I shall probably have to knock it down to be free of the filth of your habitation.'
She gestured back down the corridor through the doors. The bust of Ardol Kessian lay smashed on the floor, ‘I have already begun the process.'
'Did you see yours?' asked Bryn, turning heads. 'Hesther accidentally shoved it off its stand and we thought we'd leave it there. It looks far better without a nose, don't you think?'
The Chancellor had tensed but she didn't move. 'Have your fun, little boy. But remember that I will survive for the sculptor to remake my likeness. All that will be left of you, your Academy and your whole sick history will be in the memories of the few we will hunt to extinction. You are finished. Your pyres are built outside in the courtyard. The executioner's block awaits you before the flames carry your bodies to ashes.
'The late Senator Aurelius was wrong, I am afraid. There are many ways for heretics to die. Yours shall be in front of the city when dawn lights the day and the Omniscient shines upon me and the faithful.'
Arducius didn't even feel scared and he knew why. Instead, an all-pervading sadness and waste obscured everything else for him. He sighed and rubbed at his temple where Ossacer hadn't quite removed all the pain and bruising.
'The wheel turns full circle, doesn't it, Felice?' he said.
She narrowed her eyes. She always did when he used her first name.
'All our lives are a cycle, Arducius.'
'And you still choose force and murder to achieve your ends when all you ever had to do was listen and understand. You will murder us too but you should do so knowing we were never a threat to your authority. We grew up loving you. It's what the faithful do.'
'Perhaps neither of us ever changes our methods,' said Koroyan, her voice gentle, almost friendly. 'You still peddle your lies. Lies that are so convincing, so plausible that I almost believe them myself. But enough of this idle chatter. Our time for debate is done. Tell me, where are your other bastard creations and Hesther Naravny, mother of all this evil?'
Arducius was confused. 'Surely you know?'
'Clearly not,' snapped the Chancellor. 'We know some of the brats went down to the cellars and I know there is no way out of there. But we cannot find them just at present. I will know where they are.'
'Not from me,' said Arducius. 'Not from any of us.'
'Don't make me hurt you.'
Arducius laughed in her face, enjoying the fury that rose there.
'You cannot hurt an Ascendant like that. Do you not know we can all dampen our pain reflex and any of us can do the same for the Echelon and you'd never know we were doing it. Threaten something real. We are already going to die, after all.'
Koroyan shrugged. 'Very well.' Her eyes scanned the room briefly, falling on Ikedemus, an eleventh-strander. A Pain Teller in the mould of Ossacer. 'That one.'
Ikedemus yelped as he was hauled backwards from the recliner. The soldier, a massive man with huge arms, wrapped him under the neck and held him off the ground. Ikedemus kicked again and again but to no effect. Koroyan walked towards him, drawing a long slim-bladed knife from his belt. He kicked and struggled harder, crying out for help.
'None can come,' said Koroyan. 'Now you know where they are, don't you? Tell me and I will sheathe my knife.'
'Say nothing, Ikedemus,' said Ossacer. 'Keep calm, you'll be all right.'
'Hurt him and I hurt you,' warned Arducius.
Two dozen bows were flexed the next instant.
'I don't think so. One move and you all die right here, right now.'
'That might just be preferable,' said Arducius.
'If you think so, move on me,' Koroyan turned back to Ikedemus who had calmed and who returned her stare evenly. 'Now. Ikedemus. One more chance. Where are they?'
She toyed with the knife in front of his face. The boy said nothing. The Chancellor blew out her cheeks and shook her head. She had lost none of her speed and accuracy with the knife. She put one hand hard on the boy's right leg just above the knee and slashed the blade very deep right at the top of his thigh. He jerked with the pain. Blood quickly stained his toga and pulsed from the gash.
'Femoral artery, isn't it Ossacer?' she said. 'Watch him bleed to death. Or tell me what I want to know and I will let you fix him for the pyre.'
Ikedemus was trembling and quaking. He was jerking in the grip of the soldier, tears falling down his face. His mouth opened, imploring them to help but he would not cry out. Ossacer stood up.
'Calm, Ikedemus. You know what to do but you must be calm.'
'Stop this charade, Felice,' said Arducius. 'It'll get you nowhere.'
'I disagree,' said Koroyan. 'He's just the first, believe me.'
'It will take you the rest of the night,' said Arducius.
‘I have all the time I need.'
Arducius smiled. 'You just don't know what you're dealing with.'
Koroyan followed his gaze. Ikedemus had stopped struggling. His eyes were closed. The blood had stopped flowing. Koroyan grabbed away his toga. The cut was still there but looked healthy and days healed. Arducius saw her tense. She stepped back a pace.
'Try and stem this, you Godless little bastard!'
She plunged the knife into Ikedemus's chest with such force that the blade went straight through his heart and out of his back, its point screaming on the soldier's breastplate. The soldier dropped the boy, and jumped back, staring at the Chancellor. Ikedemus slumped to the floor. Blood flushed from the wound. He spasmed and was still.
The Chancellor turned back to Arducius. Her eyes were wild, lost in fury.
'Tell me where they are or as God surrounds me, I will do to each of you what I did to that little brat.'
'This has gone far enough,' said Andreas Koll.
Arducius spun round, still numb from what he had just witnessed. Andreas was standing, supported by Meera. He had tears on his cheeks and his face was terribly pale. The memories of a decade ago on the forum oratory in Westfallen tumbled through Arducius's mind. That time it had been Father Kessian who spoke. Another frail old man. And if Koroyan preyed on Andreas too, she would not escape him. Not this time.
'Yes, I quite agree,' said the Chancellor, knife still held to stab, her breath coming in gasps.
'Even your own people struggle with what you have just done. You have just murdered a twelve-year-old boy.'
'I passed sentence on a heretic,' she said quickly. 'And all my people know that.'
She looked around the Chancellery and Arducius could see her emotions begin to drain. Andreas was right. Bows had been lowered, sword points too. Armour of God soldiers were staring at her or at poor Ikedemus lying in a pool of his own blood. Far from help now but far from pain and fear also.
Koroyan glared at her soldiers.
'Remember your God and your enemy. Remember the price of our failure.'
Ossacer had slumped back down on to the recliner. He had his head in his hands. Arducius knew why but no one could blame him, not for this. Bryn looked ready to pounce but Meera had a free hand and it grasped one of his, keeping him in check.
'What now, Felice?' asked Arducius. 'Who's next. Me? Ossie? Someone more helpless is normally your style, isn't it?'
Meera hissed at him to be quiet. He couldn't see the point. It struck him then that, famously, Arvan Vasselis once deserted Westfallen rather than defend it against overwhelming numbers of the Armour of God. He had saved the whole village by doing it because he believed heroism was not necessarily about dying for a cause but in making the right decisions that brought your people new hope. Arducius hadn't understood when first he read about it. Now, though, he did. He nodded at Meera and mouthed an apology.
Koroyan was on the move. She walked past Arducius and Ossacer and stood by Cygalius. Putting the knife point to his throat.
'This helpless enough for you, Arducius?'
Bryn growled and shook off Meera's hand.
'Threatening your best friend, am I?' Koroyan smiled sweetly. 'Then tell me what I want to know or watch him judder and die like the other one.'
'Bryn,' said Arducius sharply. 'Don't say a word.' 'If you touch him .. .'
'Yes I know, Bryn, you'll hurt me. But not as much as the arrows will hurt you. Last chance.' She pressed the knifepoint in. Blood ran down Cygalius's neck. The unconscious boy swallowed reflexively.
'Felice, Andreas is right. Stop it now,' said Arducius. 'What do you want us to prove? That we are all willing to die to keep our friends safe? We will do it. And all you get is more blood on your hands. More enemies.'
Koroyan turned her head to Arducius and he could see that the burning was back in her eyes.
'I will tear this place apart brick by brick to find them. If you are alive or dead to see me do it makes no difference to me.'
'Think, Felice. Think what you are doing. You, Felice Koroyan, Chancellor of the Order of Omniscience. A woman more steeped in faith and love for this earth than any other that draws breath. And you are holding a knife to the throat of an unconscious youth. Heretic or not in your eyes, he remains just that. If you must execute him at dawn with us all, then you must. Verdict has been given, sentence has been passed. We all live on borrowed time in here. But for now, show him the mercy of the Omniscient. Don't murder him where he lies.'
Arducius thought she might remove the knife. Her mouth moved a little, gauging his words. The corners of her eyes twitched ever so slightly. Her face softened. Silence grew in the Chancellery, allowing the sounds of shouting to reach them from outside on the courtyard. Pyre-builders about their task.
Koroyan rammed the knife home. Blood spurted from Cygalius's throat. Meera screamed. Ossacer was shouting 'No!' and Andreas fell back in his chair, a trail of blood on his face. He was blinking, gone in shock. Bryn launched himself at the Chancellor. There was the multiple sound of bowstrings. Bryn was struck three times, his body tossed in the air and dumped on top of Cygalius. The Chancellery descended into shouts and threats. The doors thundered open. Bright light washed in. Heat followed. The Armour of God soldiers bunched and moved away.
Arducius turned. Mirron was aflame. She stood behind a huge figure that was thrown into shadow, her whole body spitting fire. Gouts churned from her fingertips, licking out at the soldiers, pushing them further and further away. Beside him, Felice Koroyan straightened and dropped the knife. The figure spoke.
'What in the name of my God the Omniscient, and my mistress the Advocate, is happening on the Hill?'
He walked out of the shadow and into the light.
Chapter Forty-Two
859th cycle of God, 41st day of Genasrise
'Anyone so much as touches a weapon, burn them, Mirron.' 'It would be my pleasure.'
Gatherers and Ascendancy guards were sprinting down the corridor towards them. Paul Jhered marched deeper into the room. His gladius was out. He grabbed the nearest soldier by the throat and held his sword at eye level.
'Want to threaten me? Drop your damn weapon.'
The blade clattered on the ground. Jhered moved on.
'You? Or you?'
He paced in front of them, his presence utterly overwhelming. He seemed even taller than before,
bigger somehow. His face held that dreadful calm of the man entirely prepared to back up his words with action.
'Any of you want to take me on? Didn't think so. Drop them. All of them.'
Weapons clattered down on the marble. Jhered turned from them. Arducius wasn't sure if they were more scared of him or of Mirron who stood naked and glaring at them through the flames that covered her. She looked so powerful, so beautiful. Gatherer cloaks swarmed into the room. When every weapon was down, she let the Work drop. An Ascendancy guard covered her with a cloak.
Arducius watched Jhered pace into the centre of the Chancellery. He took in everything. Andreas and Meera, who were hugging each other. Ossacer, who was coughing as if his lungs would explode. The bodies of Ikedemus, Cygalius and Bryn. The terrified eleventh-stranders, just two of them now, standing in expanding puddles and stained togas.
And lastly at Felice Koroyan.
Jhered towered over her, his eyes piercing her, reaching the darkest recesses of her being. His stare was unwavering and he held it until it was Felice who flinched and looked away.
'What have you done, Felice?' he whispered, ‘I see it but I don't believe it.'
'These people are convicted heretics—' began a soldier. Jhered turned and pointed his sword. 'Shut. Up.' ‘I am carrying out sentence,' said Koroyan.
Jhered sighed. He sheathed his gladius, it was clean and free of blood, took off a glove and dug in the corners of his eyes with thumb and forefinger.
'Didn't remember I was due back, did you? If the weather had been with us, I'd have been in port a day ago.' He was standing so close to Koroyan she could go nowhere, backed as she was against a recliner. 'Perhaps the Omniscient delayed me so I could witness this ... whatever it is. Murder? Treachery? This is no sentence for heresy I am aware of.'
'There was a trial yesterday,' said Koroyan, finding a little courage. 'The Ascendants and the whole Academy were found guilty of heresy and sentenced accordingly.'
A Shout for the Dead Page 42