by Colin Tabor
A knock sounded at my door.
I turned. “Yes?”
It was Sef. “We’ve just heard news from our returning people.”
He meant the packs of Kavists who’d crossed the river.
“What news?”
He strode in wanting to be close.
I grew worried. “Pedro and Maria?”
“No.”
I sighed with relief. “What then?”
“Juvela, it’s you! The Inquisitor has declared you responsible along with Kurgar for the woe that has taken the city. He’s demanded your head and body to be salted and burnt separately.”
I laughed. What a fool Anton was. He was as lost at finding the real power behind the city’s troubles as I was, so now he looked for excuses.
Well, that did it. Even with my emerging power, it‘d now be a needless risk to walk Loyalist streets – unless I had a definite location for my family. He’d confined me to Newbank, as the districts of the new saints were already unsafe for me. I thought about it for a moment; in truth, with the growing number of people moving between Newbank and the city, I wasn’t even safe here.
I sighed.
Sef asked, “Are you alright?”
“Compared to Ossard, I’m fine.”
He gave me a weak smile.
I said, “I want to see Kurgar.”
“We should wait until morning.”
He was right, but how many more mornings did the city have? “I suppose it can wait. Sorry Sef, I’m exhausted and not thinking clearly. I must get something to eat and some sleep.”
He nodded. “What do you want to see him for?”
“I should share what Felmaradis has told me.”
“He’ll laugh at you, as any Flet would – taking advice from a Lae Velsanan.”
“Would you?”
Instead of answering, he said, “You’d be better off asking Kurgar for protection, for a secure place to stay. This house is too open and well known.”
“I’d not thought about it.” And I hadn’t.
“You know, Kurgar has authority over the Guild’s buildings and also owns several himself. He even has an unused tower, its five levels high and defendable.”
“A tower?”
“It’s in the middle of Newbank’s slums, it was part of the old city wall.”
I still felt safe with Sef, like a child in the arms of its father. “I think I’m alright here, there are scores of people downstairs.”
“Juvela, it’s not just the Inquisitor’s declaration you need worry about, remember you carry a divine mark.”
As if I could forget.
“I’ll think about it. Perhaps it is a good idea.”
He turned for the door. “I’ll have some supper sent up and then you should rest.”
“Yes, thanks, Sef.”
He left, closing the door behind him.
I turned back to look out upon a city dotted with fires and haunted by the rising tones of Schoperde’s long and sad song. While it wasn’t being sung as strongly as it had been in earlier days, it still rose to be heard.
Food came quickly. I was so tired that I barely remembered eating it before lying down. In my bed I embraced a pillow while thinking of Pedro and then all but passed out.
I rose early to use the celestial to search the opposite shore for the souls of my family. I stayed there standing on the balcony in the crisp grey before dawn. My perception wandered every street, every alley, and even drifted through the sewers.
I didn’t find them.
When Sef came I’d been crying for a good while, so long in fact that my eyes glared red-rimmed and sore. He didn’t have to ask why.
I said, “Could they’ve been taken out of Ossard?”
“No, they’re here. They need to be for the ritual.”
I wiped at my tears. “Of course.”
He nodded. “We’ll find them, it’s not too late. They’ll be shielded by magic, something strong that they can’t be seen through.”
“You’re right.”
He offered a smile. “I know this hurts and that you suffer, but remember there are always others who’ve endured more.”
“Like poor Marco.”
“Yes, and Baruna, they’ve both had to walk hard roads.”
He was right. In comparison I was lucky, at least for my loved ones there was still hope. And that thought sparked another. “And you, Sef, what of you? I know you’ve suffered in the past, but you’ve never spoken of it.”
He paled, seeing me regret my prying.
“I’m sorry, you needn’t speak of it.”
He shook his head. “No, I know I needn’t, but I will.” And he paused as he gathered himself, “I was a priest of Kave tending to the needs of his warriors where the lakelands, forests, and plains meet. It was a calling I’d not looked for, but earned after the siege of my home village.
“I grew up there, a small place called Kaumhurst. I’d been a farmer and carpenter, and even married…”
“Married!”
He smiled at my surprise. “With a daughter as well.”
And in an instant, the hardness of the man I knew melted.
“In Fletland it’s everyone’s duty to defend their village from raiders and bandits through service to their local militia. It was the only time I handled weapons, something I’d never felt comfortable with.
“One day Kaumhurst was besieged. They’d been seen coming through the dark before dawn, a gang of brigands crossing our fields. They were brazen, carrying torches and their battle colours high, some of them were even singing and blowing on field horns. By the time they arrived our village was roused and ready behind our stockade, and then began the strangest siege I’ve ever heard of.
“It started as a standoff, with them making little in the way of demands. On occasion they’d call out insults and fire off arrows. We had enough food and water so we were content to wait. To be honest, we were bemused about the way they’d gone about it: They drank as they sat about a bonfire, singing through each night, they seemed more intent on enjoying themselves. It was the strangest thing we’d seen, and not the kind of raid any of us had ever heard of.
“Others came to join them – and that was the only thing that worried us. Their numbers grew from two dozen to four score before…” and then his words trailed away.
I said, “You don’t have to go on, Sef, I can see your pain.” And I could imagine the outcome; of a final battle and the death of his family.
He shook his head. “I’m alright, and I’ll finish what I’ve begun.
“As you can imagine, we were getting more anxious as their numbers grew – and them more foolhardy. They taunted us by firing arrows, building greater bonfires, and holding nightlong feasts that served up our own livestock.
“Then came a long day of argument that divided the village as our patience ran out. We couldn’t agree on action, yet it would only take one more incident to make blood flow. Sure enough, the fools gave it to us: That dusk the bandits took flaming brands from their bonfires and began torching our fields.
“We let two bands of archers out to catch our foes by surprise. Still, they’d come for a fight, so after some success we were forced back to our stockade and back inside.
“It was a tense night, one that dragged on only to be broken by taunts. It also seemed that their numbers still grew, for we saw two more groups marked by torchlight crossing our smouldering fields. Lost in the dark of night and drifts of eye-watering smoke it was hard to follow all that went on, but one thing I couldn’t miss was my wife, Anja, hit by an arrow.
“It was just a soft thud and then her ragged gasp. She fell to her knees, and so did I as I took her into my arms. She was in a bad way with too much blood running from her chest. I was scared. I just knew that she was going to die.
“My mother came forward, cradling our infant daughter, and all the while Anja knelt there, held by me, trying to take her last breath.
“Horns sounded and the cries of
bandits. Someone yelled a warning from the top of the stockade as flaming arrows began to rain down to land in dirt, thatched roofs, and flesh. Fires sprang up to throw everything into a ruddy light, including my beloved’s ruin.
“There and then I knew my family and home were doomed, but I wouldn’t have it. I stood and roared my grief, vowing to give my soul and service to Kave if he’d bless me with the strength to save all that I held dear.
“Like a falling star, something hit me, aglow and full of power. It landed with so much force that it blasted the nearest part of the stockade apart. I emerged enraged and by Kave’s blessing berserk.” Sef shook his head in disgust.
“I awoke surrounded by countless bandits dead and covered in blood and gore. The scene was lit in amber, tinted by smoke and the rising sun of the new day. As I’d offered, I’d saved the village and my loved ones, and all for the cost of my soul.
“I was hailed a hero, a true man of Kave, and held in such esteem that I became his priest to serve the local Kavist patrols. And in all this I served the interests of everybody but myself.”
His words made me wonder; how could such a thing happen? The giving of yourself to one you didn’t hold faith in?
He nodded at my unspoken question, something I suspected he’d asked himself time and time again. “It didn’t matter because it all came to nought. That strange gathering of brigands happened once more a year and a day later. They again taunted the village, but this time when they began their attack they made sure that they laid waste to everything.” He looked me in the eye, his gaze cold and hard. “My village, mother, wife and our daughter are all gone and dead. I survived because they wanted to leave me to suffer. That was their revenge, not just the deaths of those I loved, but for me to survive them.
“I was so angry with Kave for allowing such a thing that I walked away from my duties and sought the peace of Ossard. I’ve barely served him since, and in truth there’s still a reckoning to come between us.”
I didn’t know what to say.
He laughed at my silence. “Not your average tale, it’s true. And that’s the short version. Maybe I’ll tell you more of it when we’re sitting about a fire in Marco’s ruins.”
I remained silent.
He joked, “Come now, so I’m not on speaking terms with my god, worse things can happen.”
Finally, I said, “I had no idea you harboured such pain.”
He stilled his laughter, giving me a quick nod of thanks. “That’s all for now, that’s what happened, but now we need to worry about today.”
It was my turn to nod.
He asked, “Do you still want to go and tell Kurgar about your chat with the Lae Velsanan, this Felmaradis?”
“Yes, perhaps he’ll laugh at me, but he should know in any case.”
“And what about your people downstairs? They can’t all go, and I doubt they’d even let the Heletians amongst them in.”
“Marco and Baruna can come with us, the others will have to stay.” I paused, considering. “Perhaps we should take a few more just for appearances.”
“Appearances?”
“If we take two more, Flets, it might put any fears about Marco and Baruna to rest.”
Sef offered, “Perhaps, but we could just leave them all behind and be done with it.”
“True, but maybe it’s not a bad idea to give the Guild a sense of what’s happening here. It might help add weight to my opinion.”
“Alright, but who?”
“I don’t know. Marco and Baruna will be familiar with some, they can pick two.”
“I’ll go down and get them organised. That’ll give you a moment to get ready.”
After changing and soothing my red eyes with cool water, I made my way downstairs. It was crowded, more so than the night before, the kitchen bustling as it served up a porridge breakfast. Sef greeted me at the bottom of the steps and grinned at my surprise. Simply, I asked, “How many?”
“Enough, the courtyard is full so they now gather in the street.”
My smile dropped, replaced by an embarrassed blush. “The street?”
He nodded. “You should look, but compose yourself.”
“Tell me, how many?”
“I think we’ve a hundred in the house and maybe that again in the courtyard and stable…”
“Stop it, Sef, how many?”
“And well over a hundred in the street, perhaps closer to two. They just keep coming, but ask for nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Well, nothing but to see you.”
“What?”
“They’re looking for the lady who saved so many in the square. They’re calling you their Lady of Hope, and the rose that blooms from Ossard’s despair.” He paused, “They gain comfort in just being here.” His voice softened, “We all do.”
I turned from him to see the people in my home continue their bustle, yet slow and look my way. Standing in the shadows at the base of the stairs my blush only deepened. It was hard to believe.
So much was changing…
Despite my awkwardness I smiled, a small thing that grew. Those around me took it as my acceptance of them, and from it their own smiles were sown. The air tingled with their relief. Strangely, their feelings gave me succour, it coming to me as a rising high.
After a long moment of basking in that feeling it began to fade. It took me a while, but I soon realised that it wasn’t because they tired of me; I’d just grown used to it. I needed something stronger to attain the same feeling.
I needed more of them!
One taste of their gifted power – their faith – and I was hooked. I could now understand why the gods thirsted for being followed: It wasn’t about ego, morals, or even perhaps power for power’s sake, it was for the high built of the elation it generated.
It also explained why they hungered for Ossard’s chaos and the soul harvest it promised. If something as simple as faith gave the gods a rush, what would the consumption of a soul feel like? What about a dozen, or a hundred, or even a thousand? I shuddered.
Were the gods addicted to it?
Of course they were!
In a hoarse voice I said, “Take me, I need to see them.”
Sef nodded, but my hungry tone aroused his concern.
He led me through the crowded room to the entry hall, all the way clearing people from my path. They looked to me offering their devotion with their souls and their hope with their hearts.
They trusted me.
Adrenalin coursed through my body while my mind burnt through thoughts and emotions as my soul lifted itself to a higher state. I sucked in their offered faith like a whirlpool guzzling at water. I forced my steps on, but celebrated every stride, and each revealed yet another soul that wanted to nourish me.
I was elated, but also struggling to come to terms with the feeling.
When we reached the door, Sef asked, “Are you alright?”
My voice rumbled, “Yes.”
He looked to me with anxious eyes.
I reached out and touched his shoulder to let some of my gathering power flow.
He gasped as his eyes opened wide in wonder.
“Sef, the door.”
“Of course.” And he opened it.
The street spread before us packed full of people sitting on the cobbles even at this early hour. They stilled their hushed conversations, hundreds of them, a mix of Flets and Heletians, men and women, and from across the ages, as they turned at the door’s sound. The morning air hung cool about them as the smoke-stained sky spread gold above, and there, like magically sprouting from Spring’s garden, they all rose together as one.
I stepped out to be amongst them, seeing their faces light up, and with each smile my soul fed and grew. Some of them called out or reached for me, but all of them unknowingly touched me. And now I knew what I had to do.
Hope was here!
Aligned to me they’d sought me out.
Hope was here!
And my s
oul buzzed as I drank in their offered power.
Hope was here!
And something strained in the celestial; the last of the bindings that held me. They stretched as I grew stronger, my rising power making my soul flex, until, in one amazing moment, they finally gave way.
Hope was here!
And in that other world, a ring of power rushed out to swamp the souls gathered nearby. It surged so strongly that it also manifested itself in the real world as a green mist laced with sparks of gold.
It was a blessing…
My blessing.
And as it touched them I could see their faces light up.
Hope was here!
Hope had arrived in Ossard!
I couldn’t deny it:
I was a god!
Sef whispered, “You must speak to them.”
I stepped forward and gestured for those near me to sit so those behind could see. “I am Juvela Liberigo and I welcome you to my home.”
Some of them cheered while others clapped, but most just sighed with relief. Someone called out, “Thank you, Lady of Hope!”
I went on, “There’s little room left inside, yet you are welcome to it all the same – and to join us when we move.”
A man called out, “Where are we going, Sweet Lady?”
Sef shook his head a fraction to indicate the need for discretion.
“Our destination is one that welcomes peace.”
A woman asked, “How can we help?”
“Spend the day gathering what you can, for we’ll have to leave the city and travel on open roads. You’ll need food, blankets, good shoes, and clothes to protect against the coming of winter.” I smiled. “And deep reserves of cheer.”
A young woman queried, “I’ve a young babe, and you wish to lead us from the safety of the city?”
“The city is no longer safe with only worse to come. We seek a place of hope and compassion where there’s a chance for survival.”
A voice called, “Does such a place exist?”
“Yes, a sanctuary, a place of warmth and comfort. It’s free from the new saints and cultists, and even the Inquisition.”
“Won’t we just be running?” another asked.
“To stay will see us feed these diabolical flames. We must survive them, and watch for a chance to return and help heal the city.”