The Ossard Series (Books 1-3): The Fall of Ossard, Ossard's Hope, and Ossard's Shadow.
Page 68
The Inquisitor lay back, staring up into the overcast sky, yet there was nothing beneath to support him. Out of his confusion, he realised that it was a flagpole that had got him through, not a lance, seeing him impaled on its bloody shaft above the rooftops.
All as the city beneath awoke to a new day.
Birds flew about, in particular a black crow that seemed completely unafraid, for Baltimora’s wound – the wound the ill-fated Ossard campaign had delivered him – so weakened him, that now, in his last moments, he was unable to defend himself.
The crow, curious and hungry, came to land on his shoulder seeking a closer look. Its beak loomed sharp and ominous...
Baltimora stood, followed by those seated with him. “You are truly dull-witted if you can’t recognise the power of the Inquisition. So be it. We will retake the city without your aid – and when done come to shatter these ancient walls, before putting you and your followers to the sword.”
I smiled at him, but it was a sad thing. “No, you won’t. Your campaign will fail, leaving you to die of a mortal wound that will finally claim you back in the Holy City of Baimiopia at your church’s heart.”
He froze for a moment, pale and wary.
On impulse, I added, “Not at your church’s heart, but above it.”
He hissed, “Witchery!”
His reaction told me that he knew something of his coming fate. Trusting my vision, I continued, “You’ll need to watch for the black bird, for he’ll come too close when you can no longer fend him away.”
“Witch Queen, you are doomed!” With fast and heavy steps he made for the beach. All with him followed, the Sankto Glavos waiting for the last of them before they too joined the Inquisition’s retreat.
Beside me, Pedro let out a tightly held breath. Further along the bench, Silva cursed. I relaxed as I stood after their departure, and then turned to face my people. Many of them were looking to me with surprise and confusion, even a few – like Silva – with anger.
“Those of you wishing to take part in their campaign, don’t fret, for they’ll return. Our negotiations haven’t finished.”
Pedro gasped. “But what a start!”
“They’ll be back.”
“How can you know?” Silva demanded, finally getting past his fury.
“Because I’ve spoken the truth and Baltimora knows it. They’re doomed if they try and take Ossard alone, and while their chances are still not great if they take our aid, they do at least improve.”
Baruna asked, “It’s true then; they’ll fail without us?”
“Yes, and Baltimora knows it. I’m not sure if that’s because he’s seen it himself or had it foretold by a seer of the Church. Regardless, he knows enough of his final passing to know that it follows failure in Ossard. For him to avoid it, to survive a mortal wound that he hasn’t yet received, he needs every advantage he can get. That includes using our volunteers. We’re his only means of not just success, but survival.”
Pedro grumbled, “We wouldn’t fail.”
I wasn’t going to soften the truth. “They’ll fail without you for certain. With you, they’ve got a slim chance.”
Silva snapped, “It’s the chance we have to take to win back our home!”
I looked to him, but had nothing to say.
Pedro asked, “Shall we go back inside?”
“No, let’s wait until they leave the beach. They may yet return.”
And so we talked while the Inquisition’s delegation stood by their boats. We tried not to stare, but it was obvious that Inquisitor Louis was being verbally battered for more information by the most senior amongst their delegation.
We continued to wait.
Silva had calmed some when he offered, “Perhaps I should go and speak to them as the former Lord of Ossard and a different face?”
It wasn’t a bad idea. “Silva, are you so certain that you want to throw your lot in with them? Even if you win the city, they may not release you to do what you will; worse still, there’s a good chance they’ll betray you.”
“The threat you represent will keep them honest.”
“It may not. Regardless, I mightn’t be in a position to give you any aid.” And that was the truth, for the last thing I wanted to do was to try and use the celestial.
Silva seemed at a loss, but Pedro spoke up instead, “We want our homes back, our lives – our old lives – and we want to retake what it was that made us what we are!”
I asked, “Is Ossard worth dying for?”
“It’s who we are!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps it was who we were.”
His face flushed red. “Ossard was a great city, rich and prosperous, and peaceful, too.”
“But now it’s fallen and what was once there is no more. You can’t retake it and expect it to be the same.”
“Damn it! Was it so bad a place that it’s not worth trying to save?”
“Pedro, I’m sure for you it was a wonderful place, but for the bulk of its citizens who lived in the squalor of the slums with poverty and disease, or for the Flets who also suffered at the hands of bigots, it was not quite so wondrous.”
He just shook his head.
Angela looked to me with sympathy in her eyes. “There was good in the city, like any city I suppose, balanced against the bad.”
I nodded. “Yes, but I don’t think we need to recreate it. What we need to do is build something better.”
She agreed, “Yes, something better.”
A voice sounded from nearby, “Juvela?” It was Inquisitor Louis returned with a banner-carrying Sankto Glavos by his side.
I turned to face him. “Good morning, Louis.”
He blanched at my casual use of his name in front of the holy knight, but went on, “Inquisitor Baltimora is perturbed by your view.”
Or more correctly, I suspected, of my vision of his coming death. “What does he want?”
“In truth, he wants your help.”
Beside him, the Sankto Glavos’ manner stiffened, but the knight’s stern face remained still.
“I know he does, and he’ll have what my people are prepared to give, but I’ll not go beyond that. I also know that should Ossard be taken that his next target will be me.”
“He can’t free Ossard without your help.”
“I know he can’t, but neither is it guaranteed with it.”
“He doesn’t just want your volunteers, but you and the others. He wants to assemble a force large enough to make victory a certainty.”
“Most of my people aren’t trained or equipped to fight. Of those who are, you already have most as volunteers. Don’t ask for any more; I’ll not send an army of seamstresses, stable boys, merchants, waitresses and widows to fight against cultists, not if they’re not moved to.”
“But what of you?”
I looked across at the gathered inquisitors on the beach. Most of them stood there watching us, including Baltimora. It was pointless; I needed to talk to Baltimora, and in private. “Have your senior return here. He may bring his two knights to guard his person, and I’ll likewise send my own people away.”
“I will ask him.”
“Tell him, for there’s no other way.”
Louis nodded, and with a slight bow turned back to the beach.
Silva asked, “Will he agree?”
“Yes, he has no choice.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“He knows he needs me more than I need him. More importantly, he also knows that I’m not frightened of him. He has no leverage.”
The two Sankto Glavos began to make their way over, Inquisitor Baltimora following in their wake.
I turned to my people. “All of you, except Angela and mother, I want you to go back to the gate and wait for me there.”
Led by Baruna they did, with Pedro and Silva grumbling.
To my mother and Angela, I said, “Please, stay where you are with my colours as an honour guard.” They both smiled as the breeze stirred their green and
blue banners.
I turned and called to Inquisitor Baltimora, “I’ve a guard of two.”
He gave a nod, but wasn’t amused.
Again, he took the space opposite me, standing in front of the bench. The Sankto Glavos returned to attention at each end, a pose mimicked by my own matronly sentinels.
After a moment, he asked, “You wish to speak?”
I shook my head, disappointed to hear him begin like that. “I wish to talk honestly and openly, to smooth the way between us.”
“What do you know of the black bird?”
“I know that without our aid you’ll soon endure an unnatural death, one delivered by a mortal chest wound. It’ll be sourced here in heretical Ossard, but come to bloom under overcast skies where your only company will be the spire birds of Holy Baimiopia.”
“You saw this?”
“Yes, just now.”
“This future, this witchified conspiracy, it must be changed!”
“It’s not in my power to do such a thing.”
“Why will you not fight against the cultists?”
“I can’t help.”
“Why not?”
“I’d be useless: I can’t wield a sword, nor use my real strengths.”
“The truth is that you won’t fight fellow heretics!”
“No, that’s not what this is about. I’m not ready to take on something the size of Ossard, and I’ll not leave my people behind unprotected just to go and try.”
He looked to me. “But you’ll let these volunteers leave your community and fight, even your husband?”
“If they wish.”
“And leave them in the control of mine and me?”
“It’s a choice for them to make.”
“And not you, their leader?”
I shook my head. “For some of my people this is important enough to spend their lives. I happen to agree with them, I just disagree on the timing.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I think there’ll be a better time when I can help, where I can bring Kurgar’s whole regime crashing down. It’s just not now.”
“What of Anton, the renegade you’ve managed to convert?”
“He’s not here.”
“And you had no part in his escape?”
“Me, no, but I knew his friend, Sef. He was going to try and free him. I knew of that.”
He frowned. “You think that if I fail as foreshadowed, that your people will be safe?”
“Perhaps. The hope had crossed my mind.”
“You are wrong.”
“Why?”
“For I heard, as strange as it was to do, that you’ve made an alliance with the Fifth and Final Dominion.”
“They’ve visited us, that’s true.”
“And that’s all you have to say?”
It was time to throw out some bait. “If your campaign fails, they will come and take the city. That’s certain.”
“Yes, they will. But afterwards, do you think they will let you be?”
I just looked to him, for in truth, I hadn’t given it much thought.
“Like the Inquisition, they will come wielding their righteous wrath as surely as their mighty swords. After they’ve taken the city, they will look for any other corruption that needs to be dealt with – and they will look both within and without Ossard’s doomed walls.”
“They have no need to fear us.”
“But they will, for aside from being middlings and Flets, you and yours are also of the faith that their own priesthood wages a war against as much as does our own. You might not be of the Horned God, but they will still recognise you as adherents to the first of faiths, that which they call Pordanamae. In the end you will still be doomed.”
His words made sense, too much if truth be known, yet I found it hard to think of Felmaradis having a hand in such a thing. Still, it was a matter to consider, for it wouldn’t be Fel leading the campaign. “There may be problems to come, that’s true, but I think it unlikely that you’ll be around to see them.”
His grin vanished. Staring deep into my eyes, he snapped, “We will take your volunteers and use them in accordance with our plan. After our victory, I will return here to deal with what lies between us.”
I nodded.
“I return to the Black Fleet. Have your husband and his father deal with Inquisitor Louis.” He then turned and strode off for the beach.
The Sankto Glavos lifted their banners and followed.
-
Over the following days, Pedro and Silva discussed with Inquisitor Louis all that needed to be known and done. Then I was faced with the reality that we were about to lose one in ten of our number to the Inquisition, at least for a time, if not forever.
In the end, most of the volunteers stayed true to their word and remained given to their cause. It meant that a good proportion of our young men were preparing to march away. Of course, what weighed most heavily on me was the coming departure of my husband.
Chapter 28
-
Two Fingers and a Thumb
-
They were in their cabin, part of the sterncastle, seeing them high above the waterline at the back of the Lae Velsanan ship. Sef watched Anton, as they both lay on their respective bunks, the former inquisitor having taken to rubbing the fingers of his good hand along the palm of his wounded one. Such a sight was a change from another new habit, one usually played out on deck; of one-handed blade juggling.
All of it worried Sef.
Still, he could understand that this time had always been going to come. What it marked was the beginning of Anton’s acceptance of his maiming.
Sef said, “Watch yourself, you don’t want to ruin the healing.”
Anton smiled. “No, you’re right.” And then he put his hands down across his chest.
Sef asked, “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing, I’m just trying to get used to it.”
Sef’s voice softened, “And are you?”
“I suppose, or as used to it as can be expected.”
“You make me nervous when you start playing with your blade.”
“Don’t be.”
“Are you worried?”
“Of course I am, I’ve been crippled!”
Sef sighed. “You’re not crippled!”
“Stop it, Sef. Of course I am! But I’ll agree I’m not useless.”
Sef sat up, looking to his friend. “Do you think you can still fight, I mean, if not to attack, to at least defend?”
Anton looked thoughtful as he stared up from his bunk to the ceiling. “I’m not sure how well. I think I’ll be okay. I suppose it depends how skilled my opponent is and what kind of steel they’re wielding. I mean, let’s be realistic, I was never much of a swordsman.”
“Do you have any other fears over the journey we need to make?”
“No more than I’d have if I still had two good hands.”
Sef nodded, and then, not for the first time, his eyes were snagged by the smooth detail of the interior of the cabin.
A carved rail ran along the wall at waist height, but aside from that most of the timber flowed smooth to follow its undulating grains. Sef knew it had to have been shaped, but not by a carpenter. He suspected he was looking at the work of a mage of the Cabal.
“Sef, what’re you thinking about?”
He smiled. “Whimsy, I suppose: Just the strangeness of the ship.”
“It’s certainly different; from its thick hull to its lack of seams. Did you know the ship is shaped by elemental magic, not built?”
“Elemental magic, but it’s made of wood?”
“The Lae Velsanans think wood an element, and seeing as they can do what they have with it, I suppose they must be right.”
Sef shook his head in disbelief. “It’s a wonder. I’d love to see below deck, but they’ve been very careful to restrict us to the main deck and sterncastle.”
“Yes, they clearly have some secrets.”
“Did you see anything?”
“From one of the more central hatches I could see that there’s a large sphere under the deck, sitting beneath the three main masts. It looked to be so big that its bulk must run through at least two decks.”
“Interesting. I’ve asked some crew about going below deck, but they’ve all politely refused. Perhaps the sphere has something to do with the sloping masts?”
“Maybe. I’ve also noticed how tightly the ship can move, particularly in turning. It’s beyond what I think a ship can be. “
“It has secrets, that’s for certain.”
Sef nodded. “And secrets they aim to keep.”
Anton didn’t answer, seeing Sef turn to look: His friend had started rubbing his palm again, his eyes unfocussed as his mind took him elsewhere.
Chapter 29
-
The Parting
-
It was late at night when Pedro returned to our room. I was sitting on our bed, looking to Maria where she slept in her alcove, while lost in thoughts of gloom.
I knew he’d spent the day with his father, working to equip and organise their volunteers. There’d been talk of some of their number pulling out, such gossip coming to me as the news sank in that I didn’t back their endeavour. Rumours had also sounded of arguments and even a couple of fights about the halls of our ruin.
So, I sat there thinking of all that might have been: Of our community united, of our people working together to not just survive, but thrive, and of Pedro and I in a marriage built of love and peace.
What wishful thinking.
Maria slept quietly, an oasis amidst the turmoil in my heart, yet it wasn’t enough of a salve. I’d been dreading his arrival.
He walked in and dropped a sack by the wall before turning to speak. “There’s still much to do, but we’ll be ready to leave the day after tomorrow.”
Less than two days...
I said, “You’ll die if you go.”
“No, we won’t.”
“On this path, I can’t protect you.”