The Light of Heaven tok-3

by David A. McIntee

  "Did Scarra give further information about Kell?" Erak asked.

  "Sadly not," Voivode admitted. "But I've communicated with the Preceptories in Gargas and Volonne, with the intent of shedding more light on the woman whom Scarra thought to be Kell's lover. They're not close to Fayence, of course, but they are our only other Preceptories in Pontaine, so…"

  "You're asking them about the Huntress?" Gabriella asked.

  "Indeed. It's early days, so we might yet hear of an actual person by that name — most likely a woman of fallen virtue, obviously — but it may be that Scarra himself was mistaken."

  "Or lying."

  "Perhaps," Voivode acknowledged, with a canny smile. "But hear on, Sister DeZantez. I've heard from our, shall we say, less official people in Fayence that there is also an actual place called the Golden Huntress. Apparently a house of ill-repute."

  "A brothel? That would make sense of Scarra's comment about the Huntress bringing Kell profit."

  "Indeed," Kesar said, taking up the story. "It seems this Golden Huntress is to be found somewhere north of Fayence. If it were in the Empire of Vos, we could simply send a force of Imperial troops under the command of the Swords to crush the place. Being in Pontaine, however, we shall have to be a little more circumspect. We don't want the Crown Prince in Gargas, or Lord Aristide in Fayence, to think we're starting a new war."

  "Perhaps if we had representation in the area of Fayence," Erak ventured.

  "We do," Kesar said, "The town of Solnos is about half way between Andon and Fayence. There is a moderately sized Faith church there, overseen by…" He looked at the skull-faced man. "Cabbert?"

  "Kurt Stoll," Cabbert supplied

  "Enlightened One Stoll has no Preceptory attached to his church," Voivode said, "But there is room for a number of soldiers."

  Kesar closed his eyes as if reading something written on the inside of his eyelids, then glanced at Cabbert and DeBarres.

  "It would be a shame to lose either of them from regular duties to such a detached assignment," DeBarres said, "but we do need to expand our influence in Pontaine. And as Gabriella is from Pontaine she will be a great asset."

  Kesar looked at Gabriella quizzically and she nodded. "I was born in Andon, but my parents are both originally from Scholten."

  "Very well. Go to Solnos and find the Golden Huntress and seek out Kell. Alive if possible."

  "You can form a small Preceptory of your own," Voivode added. "We could do with one in the area and this is a perfect chance to test the waters in this matter. Take a full complement of squires, sergeants and soldiers-at-arms with you. "

  Gabriella was so shocked that she could hardly speak. "Thank you, Eminence." She was going to be able to carry the Faith's laws to so many more people, in areas so far deprived of the light of the Lord Of All. This was the best day of her life.

  Outside, Gabriella looked up at the azure glow of Kerberos and listened to the sounds of the city around her. The chatter of voices, laughter, distant screams. Erak followed her out quickly. "Gabe!"

  "Well, that was interesting," she said. "I… I'm not sure what to make of our new careers."

  Erak took her hands in his. Gabriella felt the tension ease from her. Maybe it was just his touch. She didn't mind either way. "I was thinking…"

  "Now that's what I call breaking the habit of a lifetime."

  Erak laughed. "It happens sometimes. Proves I'm not a perfect soldier."

  "Nobody's perfect."

  He opened his mouth to try speaking two or three times, but without success. Gabriella sighed. "What's the problem?"

  "There's no problem." He looked at her.

  "If there's no problem, then why are you having such trouble saying whatever it is you want to say?"

  "I — You know I still haven't begun the quest for a child."

  "Neither have I." Gabriella didn't expect to say the words, and was surprised to hear them coming out of her mouth. "We could… You'd be a good…"

  "Father?"

  "I can't think of anyone better. We've served the Lord of All, and the Anointed Lord, in every way possible way. Except for one thing. Neither of us has had a child to keep the Faith."

  "Are you saying — "

  "I'm saying maybe we should because I've loved you for years and I don't think I could bear either having someone else's, or someone else having yours. When the time comes, we can take the Pledge, even at Solnos."

  His smile softened the hard edges of his features. "I think maybe we just did." He looked up at Kerberos and her eyes followed his. "Under the sight of the Lord Of All."

  Goran Kell woke and crossed the room he had taken in Turnitia. It was a private room in an old coaching inn, tucked away behind the great hill. Kell opened the window and looked out over the stables. Two of Chaga's men were there, alert and on guard. Kell was satisfied. He had paid for the best.

  As his servant dressed him in hard-wearing travelling robes, there was a knock at the door. The servant opened the door, admitting Chaga. The mercenary Captain's armour rattled as he marched in and gave a bow. "Word from the Empire, sir."

  "Go on."

  "The mystery assassin who so concerns you was caught and killed by the Faith."

  "Typical of them. Another burning, another soul supposedly cleansed — "

  "He was killed in combat, with the Swords of Dawn."

  "Ah." Kell was vaguely surprised, and felt a momentary respect for whoever the man was. "He had some honour, then."

  "There is worse news, and closer to us. Karel Scarra has been taken by the Faith, at his vineyard."

  "He went there?" Kell was amazed. "How stupid could the man be?"

  "The word is that he may have spoken before he was taken to Andon for execution."

  "Spoken to whom?"

  "Two Knights of the Swords. An Erak Brand and a Gabriella DeZantez."

  "It would be interesting to know how much he told them."

  "Do you require any further action, sir?" Chaga asked.

  "Prepare our mounts. We still have a long journey ahead of us."

  In the half-light that passed for night, Gabriella looked out over the city she had grown up in, for the first time in over a decade. She was standing on a terrace jutting out from the thick wall of the archive building that adjoined the cathedral and its Preceptory. A short wiry, woman with steely hair cut into a bob was there, and Gabriella approached her.

  "I always thought you'd end up here. I remember how much you hated the city."

  "The city stinks," Marta DeZantez said. "Too many people too close together… How can you rise up to be one with the Lord of All, when all those other lives are stuck to you? Like dough that's too thick."

  "That's father speaking."

  "Yes… It's funny how much the bakery has coloured my thinking. I'm glad I don't have to work there; the house smells of flour and warm bread enough as it is."

  Marta took a half step back, looking Gabriella up and down. "My daughter, a Sister of the Swords… I've never been prouder of you." She smiled. "Well, except every other day."

  Gabriella blushed. "I wish I could stay, but the Eminences — "

  "It's too short a visit," Marta sighed. "But the Lord's work is more important." She looked at Gabriella askance. "Is there something else? You look as if… I don't know, either there's something you need to say, or you're too far from the privy."

  Gabriella couldn't help but fidget somewhat. For all that she had fought and killed men, and been under threat of death twice in the past few weeks, she still couldn't help feeling terrified at the thought of telling her mother about she and Erak. She belatedly wondered if she could have brought Erak to her attention more often, and built up to the news. She knew there was no way, of course, but knowing and feeling weren't the same thing.

  "There's something I really should…" She felt herself blush. "I mean, I know I should have said something before — "

  "You're thinking of either taking the Pledge or the Binding, or both," M
arta said. She hesitated, regarding Gabriella for a moment. "No… Not thinking of. You've taken — "

  "The Pledge," Gabriella admitted.

  "You're my daughter, Gabriella, don't think I couldn't tell."

  "Erak and I have known each other since we first joined the Order. It just seemed such a natural way to go."

  "Erak?" Marta thought for a second. "Erak Brand, of the Order?"

  Gabriella wished she could tell what her mother was thinking. She probably could, if Marta wasn't deliberately keeping a poker face. She was good at it too, which wasn't surprising as Gabriella had herself learned the talent from her.

  "You know Erak."

  Marta couldn't hold her bland expression any longer. "Of course I do! I'm not a dullard, Gabriella, I don't have the memory sickness." Marta hugged her. "And, as it happens, I think you've made a good choice."

  "You do?"

  "He's a good man, and a soldier of the Lord, just as you are. It's always seemed to me that the two of you are well matched for each other."

  Flooded with relief, Gabriella embraced her mother. As always, it was something she did to say goodbye.

  It had been a tiring journey after the completion of a job in Vosburg, but Dai Batsen had finally returned to the lakeside home he had occupied for the past four years. It was a fisherman's stone cottage, on the grassy shores of a lake as close to the exact centre of Pontaine as a man could get. The interior was as harsh and uninviting as the stones on the outside of the building. Batsen lifted a wooden trapdoor in the floor of the tiny kitchen and descended a set of well-crafted wooden stairs into what had originally been a cellar. Now it was the ante-room to a warm and welcoming home.

  The wood furniture in the main room was immaculately polished, the chairs had padded seats. Once Batsen had put his coinage away and dumped his saddlebags in an anteroom, he lit a number of lamps. To his surprise, the lights didn't dispel the darkness in the centre of the room, but outlined it.

  Batsen immediately reached for the power he had spent years mastering, and tried to sweep away the shadow but it didn't dispel. Cautiously, he sat on a chair and regarded the darkness.

  It was a column of deep shadow, standing floor to ceiling. Batsen realised what it was after only a few moments.

  "Well," he said, "you knew where to find me. You must know what I do."

  "Yes," the voice came through loud and clear. "Please forgive this unusual intrusion, but I cannot spare the time to make such a long journey as would be needed to see you in person and I felt that, as a Shadowmage, you wouldn't be unduly alarmed by magical communication."

  "If you're hunting me, you just made a big mistake."

  Batsen could feel tendrils of cold thought probing at the corners of his mind and he quickly dispelled the touch

  "There are two warriors of the Swords of Dawn." The darkness said.

  "And you want them removed?"

  "Yes, because — "

  Batsen raised a hand. "I have no interest in why you want someone removed. I'm only interested in how much you're offering for the service, whether there are any special requirements and where to find the persons in question. It's safer for all concerned that way. Most of my contracts are for people who knew too much, so you understand why I don't want to become a man who knows too much."

  "I see what you mean. The target's names are Erak Brand and Gabriella DeZantez. We'll try to keep you updated on their location, but that may not always be possible. For now, they are preparing to go to a town called Solnos, in the lands controlled by Lord Aristide of Fayence."

  "It's hard to find someone who doesn't want to be found, outside of the cities."

  "Too much trouble?"

  "Merely more expensive." Batsen said.

  "No trouble. In any case, they'll have a base of sorts. There is a small church in the town of Solnos and both targets will be based there. They may be founding a Preceptory of the Order in the town. As to the fee — "

  "Negotiations about the fee are fairly unimportant. I get what I want, or you get someone else." Batsen paused. "I don't mean to sound rude, arrogant or greedy, but it's better to be honest about these things."

  "You come highly recommended and the price is unlikely to be an object."

  "Five hundred gold, plus ten more per week or part of a week as expenses. The five hundred to be payable in advance. Is that wildly fantastical?"

  "Highly expensive, but no, not fantastical."

  "Then consider your two problematic members of the Faith gone. As I mentioned before, if there are any special requirements, feel free to request them."

  "None," the voice said. "Use your judgement to remove them in whatever manner you deem most efficient. The important thing is that they die, not how."

  With that the strange black cloud shrank and, in a few moments, it was gone.

  "Impressive," Batsen murmured to himself. Then he lit a few more lamps and began to select the clothes and equipment he would need for the new mission.

  CHAPTER 8

  The village sat alone in the western savannah between the city of Fayence and the cliffs that dropped away to the sea far below. It was a long way from any major roads. There was no church here and no market square. Most of the modest houses surrounded a large corral, with a barn and stables next to it. A well stood on the other side of the corral.

  The sound of drums, warlike and filled with brutal passion, was in the air. It insinuated itself through the surrounding fields with liquid ease and sent small creatures scampering back to their hollowed lairs.

  A man ran between two of the houses, shooting frightened glances behind him. Suddenly, a figure leapt upon him from the shadows and they both rolled in the dust. Three more figures sprinted out and joined in the feast, ripping chunks of flesh from the man and consuming them hurriedly.

  Other figures ran through the streets, illuminated by the torches they carried. The creatures had leathery skin ridged with scales, red eyes, and lanky limbs with stringy muscles that, while thin, were as strong as iron. Their teeth were filed to points and their torsos were draped in belts holding crude knives. The screams that disturbed the night as the creatures smashed in doors and tore people from their beds were quickly silenced.

  Kratok-Chal watched his brethren hunt, then took his fill from the man whom he had brought down. It had been a long time since he had fed properly. Even the humans in the last little hamlet his tribe had passed through had been worthless. They had been no more than skin and bone, their animals no better.

  Kratok-Chal and his fellow Rabash weren't looking for prisoners or slaves this time. They were hungry and had been for some weeks. This kind of land was strange to them, but there was nowhere else that might offer the food and space they needed. They had tried venturing into the great Sardenne forest several Tendays ago, but that had been a mistake; a fatal mistake for more than half the tribes.

  Kratok-Chal shuddered at the thought of the things he had seen there. There were creatures in there that were far worse than men or Ogur, or even Rabash.

  The Sardenne would not be their salvation, and they couldn't return to their nesting grounds, so the chiefs had brought them to the savannah. Sources of food were scarcer here, but at least threats could be seen from further away. Nothing would ambush them and they could seek out the villages and towns that dotted the lands between the cities.

  The humans who lived in this village were taller than the Rabash blood and stronger over short periods, but the Rabash whom the humans called goblins were tougher, more built for stamina than speed or strength. A well-trained and very fit human could run for perhaps an hour at most but the average Rabash could keep up the same pace for three or four times as long.

  Kratok-Chal knew there were other humans in this land. It would be a good hunting ground, even if he felt strange being so far from the rocks he knew. Perhaps his kind had been done a favour, he considered, when they had been exiled and forced on this journey. He hadn't felt that way at the time, but Kratok-Chal
knew that there was a balance to life. It was a balance he looked forward to maintaining, because he knew it would fill the emptiness in his belly with the fullness of warm meat.

  Few humans used to come the territories of the Rabash and the most recent ones had come with fire and iron. Their homes had been destroyed and so they had been forced out of the mountains and into the human lands. It could be worse, Kratok-Chal considered, at least the humans here had no hostility in them, and they seemed to be in plentiful supply. This was a good hunting ground and the prey was more worthy.

  A few days' east of Andon, but still a couple of days' north of Fayence, Gabriella DeZantez was glad to see the end of a long ride and curious to see how her and Erak's destination looked. The pair were accompanied by a couple of dozen men-at-arms and a handful of squires and apprentices, as was common for Knights on the road. Since they had now been assigned to Solnos, and there was no Preceptory of the Swords there. The foot-soldiers would be assigned to duties at the church in town until called upon.

  The short column clattered across a sun-bleached but solid wooden bridge. The river it crossed was neither wide nor fast; it curled around the northern outskirts of town, caressing it with gentle waters. Beyond the town, an escarpment rose to the south before sloping away in the direction of Fayence.

  The town itself was a little smaller than Kalten and it sprawled across the savannah between river and escarpment. An archway stood over the approach from the bridge, but there was no wall around the town. The one and two-storey buildings seemed to be mostly made of adobe bricks, formed around a wooden framework. Tiny black window-spaces peeped out here and there from the blinding white plaster. Gabriella thought they were strangely like black eyes watching her and she was sure there were real eyes inside, doing exactly that. The thought amused her. A few of those eyes would be alarmed or hateful, but most would be curious and excited. As if proving her thought correct, several children emerged cautiously from the adobe houses and scuttled alongside them, admiring the horses and riders.

  A few children were playing stickball in the street and Gabriella couldn't help smiling. They were just who she was here to protect.