"There's also no problem for them to get out, individually if not in bulk. And that isn't good horse country, which means no cavalry charges. It's going to be our foot patrols versus theirs. Guerrilla warfare."
"Somewhere in there is a force that kicked the goblins out of their homes. That's the threat that immediately concerns me." Kesar said.
"Eminence," Gabriella interrupted. "Might I suggest that Crowe and I continue our scouting mission by going into Freedom."
"Into the city?"
"There are two reasons, Eminence. Firstly, we need to know how many heretics, mercenaries and sinners are populating the area, and especially how serious a military force they are."
"And secondly?"
"Goran Kell. I've been through a lot to get him. He has, by proxy assassins, attempted to kill an Eminence, attempted to kill me and succeeded in killing Erak Brand. You yourself tasked me with finding him."
"So I did. So be it, but, Sister DeZantez?"
"Yes, Eminence?"
"Make sure you are back here, at this camp, by midmorning of the day after tomorrow. This is my will, and the Anointed Lord's will and God's will."
"As the Lord wills, so shall it be, Eminence."
At Crowe's suggestion, Gabriella left her Faith surplice behind and took a plain, nondescript cloak. "You ready for a bit of Freedom, pet?"
"Are you?"
"I'm used to it. You never know, you might get to like it."
She didn't answer, but simply rode towards the ridge of peaks that cut off the valley from Freedom. She and Crowe found themselves in a deep gash in the rock, which then widened again after a couple of miles' journey.
At the end, a gatehouse was set up on the side nearest to Crowe and Gabriella.
"Hello, they have some soldiers here." Crowe said.
"Not as many as you'd expect. They're mercenaries, so perhaps whoever hired them couldn't afford more." Gabriella squinted at the tabards worn by the nearest soldiers. "Three different companies. Do you recognise any of their colours?"
"One of them is from Mandrian's Hands…" He broke off. "Yeah, well. Mandrian was always a third-rate ponce."
"So his company wasn't an elite unit?"
Crowe barked a laugh. "Mandrian's bunch of losers, a couple of wannabe companies I've never heard of, and what's left of the Free Company. You can probably imagine how much of a force they make up."
"The Free Company, as in the ninety per cent slaughtered by the Anointed Lord in the last war Free Company?" Gabriella couldn't believe her ears. A few defeated old men were hardly the sort of force she would have expected to be commissioned to protect such a large city as this.
"That's the one."
"And the Hands fought on the Faith's side… along with Joachim Foll."
"The assassin who replaced Kell's assassin?"
"Interesting, isn't it?
"Welcome, friends," one of the guards called out. "Pass through, and welcome to Freedom!"
Gabriella and Crowe exchanged a disbelieving glance and did as they were bid.
"Why the midmorning after tomorrow?" DeBarres asked suddenly. He was still in Kesar's tent, listening to the bustle of activity outside. The troops were fortifying their camp.
"I'm sorry?"
"You gave a very specific time limit for Gabriella to return. I wondered why?"
Kesar took a deep breath. "What I am about to tell you is known only to Eminences and above, but you will have to know because you will witness it. Beyond the valley and the gatehouse, there is a citadel constructed — " He stopped himself and pursed his lips, considering. "No, constructed is not entirely the right word. Carved into the mountainside might be more accurate. It may be Dwarven or Elven, but no-one is really certain. Our Inquisitors have followed several small groups of Brotherhood factions to that valley."
"You knew about this before?"
Kesar didn't react to the question. "It's quite clear that this is where the sinners who have vanished from the western cities of Pontaine have gone. They can only be building a power base."
"The Brotherhood never had enough manpower for an army," DeBarres said dismissively.
"But with other whoremongers, gamblers, out-of-work mercenaries… Imagine if they could indoctrinate so many people. Convert them. How effectively can we block the valley?" Kesar asked.
"Block it?" DeBarres was baffled. If there was to be a fight, he needed to be able to put forces into it. "It's our only access to — "
"It is also their only exit."
DeBarres thought he saw where Kesar was going. "It's their only mass exit, but you can bet your Eminent ring that there are animal and goblin trails all around and through smaller cuttings. If you're thinking of laying siege, I already told you it'd be a dubious idea, for that very reason."
"You're questioning my authority, Raul?" Kesar's voice was mild, but DeBarres wasn't fooled.
"I'm questioning your tactical and strategic experience," DeBarres corrected him. "A siege would necessitate making sure they can't get food in, or send messages for reinforcements. Magical communications aside, they wouldn't have much problem getting runners or small groups out, carrying supplies in small quantities." DeBarres sighed. "If that's what you want I'll do it, but you'll be committing the whole of the Swords to a siege that might last longer than the last war between Pontaine and Vos."
Kesar smiled. "What if I were to tell you that the siege will last no more than two days?"
"I'd wonder what the point of it would be. We wouldn't even be fully emplaced that quickly."
"We do not need to be," Kesar reassured him. "It is not my intention to begin a long siege in the area. The Swords need only block any attempt the Brotherhood forces make to escape the area."
"If we can have an elemental mage pull an embankment up at the narrowest point of the valley, it'll slow any crowds right down and hem them in. Then we can use the plain at this end as a killing ground, using our people as cavalry to ride down anyone who comes over."
"Good enough."
CHAPTER 17
Guards were patrolling everywhere beyond the gateway, while civilians were hard at work, fetching and carrying.
The Glass Mountain rose from what Gabriella could imagine as the palm of a hand made of mountains; five towering peaks surrounded the Glass Mountain in a semicircle to the south and east. Wide terraces were cut into the lower slopes of these mountains. The terraces were clearly ancient and edged with walls formed from the living rock. The vertical faces were all intricately carved with monstrous bas-reliefs, while huge triangular doorways gazed blackly at each other across the valley.
Markets had been set up on the lowermost terraces along with gardens. A little higher, tents and yurts housed people. Dancers were performing on several terraces, while food and drink were consumed on others.
Surrounded by the five other peaks, the Glass Mountain itself was even more impressive. She looked up, beyond the terraces and towards the clouds.
"Lord preserve us."
The mountain paled as it stretched above, white and semi-translucent in places and Gabriella pulled her cloak around herself almost instinctively. She shivered, an unconscious act that had nothing to do with the temperature. The mountain simply shone.
Terraces were cut into every side of its lower slopes and crystalline staircases swept up and down its frosted surfaces, connecting different levels. Gabriella was astounded, but Crowe seemed to be utterly dumbstruck.
"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Gabriella asked him.
"Dez, we have to get out of here now. And we have to get everyone else here as far away as we possibly can."
"Is this to do with the Isle of the Star?"
"Yes." There was a tremble to his voice. "We should never have come here."
She thought long and hard. Perhaps this was the time she had been waiting for. Perhaps it was time to push him where he needed to go. She dismounted, and held out a hand to help him to do the same. They walked their horses to a hi
tching post and Gabriella looked around for some place private. There was a makeshift soup kitchen on a nearby terrace and she led him to it. They bought stew and bread and sat on upturned barrels as far as possible from any eavesdroppers.
"You didn't have to come here. You could have left a hundred times since the meeting with Sandor Feyn."
"Maybe I've got a crush on you."
She shook her head. "I'd see that in your eyes and I don't."
Crowe hesitated. "Dez… You may have noticed that I've got no love for the Faith."
"I noticed, yes. I'm sure there must be a cure."
"Heh. One thing to remember is that I've no love for the Brotherhood either. They got a lot of good men killed on the Belle and they've made a lot of people's lives a misery."
"The Brotherhood is very good at that."
"So is the Faith, lass. So is the Faith."
"The Faith doesn't cause misery. It fights it."
Crowe fidgeted. "Some of you do, all right?" He paused. "Somehow, what happened on the Isle and what's happening here — hell, what's happened in my whole life the past few bloody years — is tied up with the Brotherhood and with the Faith. I owe the Brotherhood, probably more than I owe the Faith."
"Owe them what?"
"I owe them for Margrave and the Belle. Hell, I even owe them that for the men I killed on the Vigilant."
"It's rare for someone to hate the Faith and the Brotherhood so… equally."
"Really? Then I guess I'm not as common a man as my manner probably suggests."
"Oh, no, don't worry about that." Gabriella reassured him. "You are."
"Nice one, God-girl."
"I dread to think who's footsteps you follow in. Maybe your father's"
"He was a priest in the Brotherhood." Crowe scowled, clearly unhappy with the direction the conversation was taking. "If he was still alive, I'm sure he'd disown me. You're probably taught all sorts of propaganda about what the Brotherhood is like, Dez. I bet it's all vile and full of tales about misogynistic brutes who like to see themselves as the Lord's favourites."
"Some of it."
"Most of the Brotherhood brothers I've met are no different than most of your comrades I've met and, going by some of Makennon's exploits, they might have a point in their opposition to the Faith."
Gabriella felt the anger rise within her. "The Anointed Lord is a great woman!"
"You may say that, and it might even be true, but I can't really be the judge of it. Sometimes the misogynistic brute image of the Brotherhood is true, though. Enough times to — Well, when it's your father, the once is enough."
Whatever was crouching in his memories, slowly poisoning him, was surely about to show itself here.
"My father saw my mother as nothing more than breeding stock. He wanted to have sons for the Brotherhood." He paused. "Do they tell you that at your Faith seminary? The Brotherhood have a Pledge too, but theirs is to have at least one son, not exactly one child. I was the first, of course, and Dad was delighted. Then they had a daughter and Dad wasn't the least bit interested. He wanted more sons, who'd grow up to be Brothers. My mother wasn't having any of it and she liked to go to the Faith church, because there were women there and there had been female Anointed Lords."
"Your father didn't like that?"
"He didn't know about her going to the Faith church. He'd probably have killed her for it. But he didn't like having a daughter instead of another son. He used to beat my mother and finally managed to do it to the degree that she couldn't have any more children."
Gabriella shivered, not sure she wanted to hear the rest of the tale. She knew it wasn't going to have a happy ending. Then again, if listening helped get Crowe on good terms with the Lord of All and the Final Faith, then it was a worthy act.
"So, he knew he wasn't going to be bringing up any more little Brothers. As far as he was concerned that meant mum was no more use to him. Neither was his daughter, so he sacrificed her for the cause." He paused, catching Gabriella's expression. "Not literally, love. He gave her up to some bloke who's wife was barren. And that bloke beat her to death in a drunken stupor because she wouldn't stay quiet enough for his liking. She was about fourteen — " His voice gave out and he took a deep swallow, blinking away the tears.
"Only fourteen years old," Gabriella echoed, aghast. "I… Don't know what to say, Crowe."
He shook the tears from his eyes. "No. Not years. Fourteen months. Fourteen months old. She'd barely even had time to learn to recognise her own name."
"Anyway, that was the last straw for my mother. She spoke to someone at the church. A Confessor, I suppose. She shopped my father for being a priest in the Brotherhood, and you can guess what happened next." Gabriella nodded. "The Swords paid a visit and took him away for morality crimes."
"They cleansed him." She wasn't asking a question; it was the standard fate for priests of the Brotherhood. The price they paid for twisting the religion of the Lord Of All.
"Yeah, Dez, and they burned him and all. And I can't say he didn't have it coming." He shrugged. "That's not what I've got against the Faith. Dad made out that my mother had done more to hide his affiliations than she had. And the Confessors believed it and they burned her in another gibbet right next to him. That was her reward from the Final Faith."
Gabriella looked at the ground between her feet. She didn't want to meet his eyes until she knew what she could say to him. She certainly didn't want him to see the emotions that were going across her face right now.
"Like I said, the Lord might be all powerful, but the people in the Faith? They screw things up just as much as the rest of us. Only they're in a position to do more damage to the rest of us with those mistakes."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It made me the man I am today. Besides, it wasn't you who did it. The Confessor who burned her died in the war."
"Did you… Were you — "
"Involved in that?" he finished for her. "Revenge would have been… interesting. But no, a mercenary company from somewhere in Pontaine managed that one all by themselves. I didn't even get that satisfaction." He looked down for a moment, then visibly forced himself to cheer up. "All right, my little God-girl. What say we pitch a tent and settle in to Freedom?
CHAPTER 18
Crowe stretched and looked up as the last tent peg was finally secured. They had set up their canvas against a rock wall, so there was only one approach to their position. The Glass Mountain loomed above them, proud and impossible to ignore or dismiss as a fevered memory. Absently, Crowe rubbed at the scarring on his face.
"Newcomers!" a woman called. Crowe started and looked round. The woman was wearing casual trews and robes in rich greens and blues.
"Welcome to Freedom."
"I… Thank you."
The woman laughed. "Listen to you! So stiff! I'm sorry, I don't mean to mock. We've all gone through it."
"Through what?"
"The doubting stage. You come here, you think 'hey, I can do what I like, without worrying about the Confessors or anyone.' Then you think 'No, it can't be true,' and you daren't do anything in case a troop of the Swords leap out of hiding and drag you away."
"Yes… Something like that."
"It's natural. It'll pass, believe me.
"So, this is Freedom?"
"Indeed, there's no Empire here, no Kingdom, no Duchies."
"No Faith?" Crowe looked sideways at Gabriella.
The woman shrugged. "Everyone here believes in the same God. We celebrate the Tenthday. But there are no impositions here; no false superiority."
"No Enlightened Ones then," Crowe said cheerfully. "My kind of place. What about Brotherhood priests?"
"One or two, but they know better than to insist that their way is best. There's no place for that in Freedom. Kell has shown us a better life."
"It sounds as nice as we were led to believe. A damn shame, though. That it needs hired mercenaries to guard it."
"Hired? We have hired no mercenaries."
"The soldiers on the gates — "
She laughed and it was quite a musical sound. Crowe wondered what other sounds she might make under interesting circumstances, and decided he would like to find out. "Are volunteers. All have come to Freedom to live out their lives in peace, without interference. Some who had been warriors outside have volunteered to donate their time and experience to protect the city in case of need." The woman looked across at someone who had beckoned to her. "I have to go, but welcome again."
"Thanks." Crowe could feel his smile freeze as she left. He turned to Gabriella after the woman was out of sight. "Let me get this straight; the city's whole force is made up of a few retired ex-mercenaries who couldn't get employed anywhere else, or who've had their arses handed to them on a plate often enough that they've taken the hint and quit?"
"Pretty much. It's madness."
"It's not much bloody use, is it? A class from your seminary could probably take this place without too much trouble. This place is a rat-trap and I can't believe they drove the goblins out."
"Neither can I, to be honest," she admitted.
"What did you expect to find here?"
"For one thing, a lot of whores and whoremongers, gamblers and drunkards."
"We don't seem to be short of those," Crowe said admiringly, watching a man stagger past on a lower terrace with a painted tart on each arm. This sort of thing seemed normal here. The girls wore little, the air smelled of Dreamweed and booze, and there seemed to be very little authority.
"And Goran Kell."
She pointed up to the staircases that were cut into the crystalline face of the peak itself. "If these terraces and tunnels really are Dwarven there may be a wider complex inside the mountain."
"Even if they're not, it's still a reasonable assumption. There wouldn't be openings otherwise." His brows knotted. "But what about the other terraces on the mountains facing this one? Isn't it as likely he'd hole up there?"
"Somehow I doubt it. But tomorrow we'll investigate them all just the same."
"Yeah, let's do that," he urged. "That's a much better idea."
Gabriella could see that something was troubling Crowe; there was a frantic look in his eyes that was unmistakable. It was obviously something to do with what had happened on the Isle of the Star.
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