by David Hair
Ascendant’s Rite
Also by David Hair
Also by David Hair
THE MOONTIDE QUARTET
Mage’s Blood
Scarlet Tides
Unholy War
THE RETURN OF RAVANA
The Pyre
Title
Copyright
First published in Great Britain in 2015 by Jo Fletcher Books
Jo Fletcher Books
an imprint of
Quercus Publishing Ltd
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
An Hachette UK company
Copyright © 2015 David Hair
Maps © 2012 Emily Faccini
The moral right of David Hair to be
identified as the author of this work has been
asserted in accordance with the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopy, recording, or any
information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available
from the British Library
TPB ISBN 978 1 78087 207 0
EBOOK ISBN 978 1 78429 038 2
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, organizations, places and events are
either the product of the author’s imagination
or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or
locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my sister Robyn, dedicated nurse, amazing cook and cake-decorator, and the reason Crabtree & Evelyn shares are a good buy.
Robyn was delivered to my parent’s door in September 1966, just over a year after they took possession of me. The deliverer wasn’t a stork but a Te Puke doctor – it’s never been a secret to either of us that we were adopted, and it has never been a cause for drama or trauma. Under the wings of our adoptive parents’ inspirational partnership, we’ve shared all that ‘natural’ siblings share, by which I mean we’ve at various stages played and argued, competed and collaborated, hugged and harangued, fought and made up. As adoptive children, our siblings could have been anyone – I’m glad, Robyn, that mine is you.
Contents
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
Interlude
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
Epilogue
APPENDICES
Glossary
Dramatis Personae
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
PROLOGUE
The Vexations of Emperor Constant (Part Four)
Solarus Crystals
The Leviathan Bridge is the first piece of inanimate gnostic artifice that is entirely self-sustaining: it draws energy from the Sun and converts it to gnostic energy to sustain it against the immense forces of the ocean. The Sun’s energy is harvested by giant clusters of special fused crystals in the domes of five great towers. They, more than the Bridge itself, point the way forward for the next developments in the craft of magic.
ORDO COSTRUO ARCANUM, PONTUS, 877
Pallas, Rondelmar
Summer, 927
1 Year until the Moontide
A frightened falcon perched on the chandelier above and shrieked at the corpse in the middle of the Inner Council room. The counsellors just gaped, speechless. Gurvon Gyle pressed back into his chair, distancing himself from what he’d just seen. It was one thing to plot the sacrifice of an army; it was quite another to see the emperor sanctioning illegal use of the gnosis – in this case, the taking of a human soul and placing it into the body of a beast. Even here in Pallas, where the pure-blood magi-nobility ruled supreme and mere humans were little more than chattels, this was surely without precedent.
I’ve just seen a Souldrinker perform a soul-stealing, and in the emperor’s own Inner Council Chamber! I must always remember this moment . . . though Kore knows who I could ever tell.
His eyes moved from the bird to the man who’d just demonstrated this horror: the Souldrinker or ‘Dokken’ introduced as Delta, named for the Lantric brand on his forehead – though Delta appeared to be more pawn than perpetrator: it was the Dokken’s master, Ervyn Naxius, who’d truly done this. The old mage was cackling like a drunken grandfather in a Low Street tavern at the acclaim currently being heaped upon him. Gyle found his own hands applauding, his mouth spouting praise as if for a tourney victor, but his mind was reeling.
Beside him, Belonius Vult, his fellow conspirator, looked triumphant – as well he might: after all, this was his part of the plan for the conquest of Antiopia.
What else have you got up your sleeve, Bel?
Vult graciously accepted an appreciative nod from Mater-Imperia Lucia. The matronly former Empress – now a Living Saint – was effectively the ruler of the Rondian Empire; her opinion mattered even more than that of her son, Emperor Constant, who was staring into space, his sword-hand clenching and unclenching as if he might leap into the saddle and ride upon Antiopia this very instant. He might be an emperor, and in his mid-twenties, but few would deny – in private at least – that Constant had the demeanour of a spoilt squire.
The others present, some of the most powerful men in the Empire, also made great show of praising Naxius, though Gyle could detect wariness at all this acclaim being heaped upon another. Imperial Treasurer Calan Dubrayle, who’d sponsored Vult in bringing in Naxius, had the most reason to bask in the reflected glory. The great General Kaltus Korion clearly had his pleasure in anticipating new super-beasts for his armies tempered by seeing another’s stock rise so dramatically. And Tomas Betillon, Governor of Hebusalim, looked no better pleased: his smile was sour, his praise muted.
The only person present who wasn’t joining in the applause was Grand Prelate Dominius Wurther. The obese churchman lurched to his feet and denounced Naxius and his thrall in no uncertain terms. ‘My Lord Emperor, this is sacrilege! This abomination that Naxius has demonstrated is a violation of the Book of Kore! I must protest!’
Emperor Constant looked away, but he showed no sign of repentance, so the Grand Prelate turned to Lucia, raising his hands beseechingly. ‘Mater-Imperia, the Souldrinkers are our oldest enemies. This “Delta” must by our own law be put to death: his very existence is an affront to Kore. We must not allow ourselves to see virtue in this abomination.’
Lucia remained calm. ‘Dominius, you are forever telling us that Kore has a reason for all He does, and all He allows in this world, are you not? So does it not follow that the Dokken must be part of His plan?’
Wurther’s jowls wobbled. ‘Mater-Imperia, that is
one interpretation, but our theologists—’
‘Please, don’t let him bore us with theology,’ Betillon groaned.
‘Hear hear,’ Kaltus Korion agreed. ‘Since when has morality ever troubled you, you old windbag? The Church of Kore takes a percentage on every slave sold, as we all know. All you’re worried about is that these new creatures might cause you to miss out on your cut.’
‘Not all are as venal as you, Kaltus Korion! This deplorable proposal cannot be sanctioned – it is in every way a violation of Kore’s Law!’ Wurther pointed skywards to invoke Kore Himself. ‘I can quote you every psalm that forbids such gnosis! The Church cannot support this.’
Gurvon was mildly impressed. He’d always believed the churchman to be utterly self-serving, but this display hinted at something resembling a moral compass. He was surprised such a thing had survived decades in the upper echelons of the clergy.
‘I hear you, Dominius,’ Lucia replied evenly, ‘and I understand your reservations. Indeed, I am pleased you’ve voiced them. But I will remind you of the governing principle of this gathering: that what is agreed by the emperor becomes the will of us all, separately and collectively; we each of us champion my son’s will when we leave this room.’
‘But Mater-Imperia, there has to be limits – the Laws of Kore stand above us all!’
‘But we are the Blessed of Kore,’ Vult put in. ‘We’re the living expression of His will: so surely what we agree upon now must outweigh a book written long ago and with no concept of the choices and threats that face us now.’
Gurvon glanced at Vult. You could justify anything you like with that, Bel.
‘Not the “morality versus pragmatism” argument again,’ Dubrayle sighed. ‘Haven’t we done it to death yet?’
‘I don’t think you should go back over our old disagreements on my or Bel’s behalf,’ Gurvon drawled. As my father used to say: if you’re going to blow with the wind, hoist your mainsail.
Wurther threw him a dirty look, then sat down ponderously. ‘You all know I respect the collegial nature of these meetings,’ he grumbled. ‘Of course I’ll support the will of this group from the moment I leave this chamber, if it is the will of my Lord Emperor.’
‘I support this proposal absolutely,’ Constant declared, after a glance at his mother.
And so that’s that.
The Dokken, Delta, bowed to the emperor, then turned and left, calling the falcon to his hand as he went. Naxius took a seat while a pair of guards bustled in and removed the body of the thief, their faces impassive.
So Naxius stays . . . ? Gurvon wasn’t happy with that; this plan was his and Vult’s; he didn’t want that old snake stealing their glory.
‘Make yourself comfortable, Magister Naxius,’ Lucia said drily. ‘You have been apprised of our intentions concerning Javon and the Duke of Argundy?’
‘I have been briefed by Governor Vult, your Holiness,’ Naxius replied obsequiously. ‘I commend his plan wholeheartedly.’
Kaltus Korion raised a hand. ‘A moment. What is he doing here? I have always held that a traitor is a traitor, even if that treachery benefits the empire. How can we trust him?’
Constant went to reply, but had no ready answer and as he stammered into silence Belonius Vult stepped in. ‘Magister Naxius’ knowledge of the Leviathan Bridge was vital. Gurvon found him, and I made the approach.’
‘And that is enough for me,’ Lucia said firmly, and the moment passed.
I don’t like the man, but involving Naxius was unavoidable, Gurvon reflected. The plan required someone who knew the workings of the Bridge intimately but who hated the Ordo Costruo, and they’d not found anyone who filled those criteria who was not also committed to the East – except for Ervyn Naxius.
Twenty-three years ago, in 904, as the Leviathan Bridge rose from the sea, Constant’s father Magnus had marched his armies across it to plunder Antiopia. Antonin Meiros, the founder of the Ordo Costruo, could have destroyed the Bridge then, but he’d hesitated and the moment was lost – for this, Meiros was reviled in the East. But few knew that Ervyn Naxius had been behind the founder’s confusion.
Naxius was a gnostic researcher, once a humane man, but his centuries of research into the extreme possibilities of the gnosis had eroded his empathy; he had long since stopped paying any attention to the constraints of morality. He had fallen out with Meiros and the Order, and the First Crusade had presented him with an opportunity to gain a patron with almost bottomless resources. He threw in his lot with the emperor, misinformed Meiros about the troop build-up outside Pontus, then betrayed the Order to Magnus’ Imperial Magi, enabling them to seize control of the Bridge. By the time Meiros had worked out what was happening, it was largely too late: the Crusade was proceeding, his reputation was destroyed and control of his Bridge was lost.
Naxius got his reward: Imperial approval to research without constraint. Gurvon had come across his handiwork during the Noros Revolt – some particularly vicious spells hidden in trinkets and talismans – and after the Revolt, he’d tracked down the source of these devices. The trail led in the end to Naxius’ secret base, and eventually to this moment.
Gurvon turned his attention back to Vult, who was saying, ‘Let’s discuss the final part of our strategy. Provided all runs to plan, we’ll have control of Javon and its resources, which will mean we’ll be able to provision General Korion’s armies in the field well beyond the end of the Moontide. Duke Echor of Argundy will be severely weakened, leaving him no choice but to retreat. Our new gnosis-beasts will ensure battlefield supremacy. So all that remains is to deal with the Bridge itself.’
Everyone sat up a little at his words. Though the Pallas Imperial Magi hated the Leviathan Bridge, the wider gnostic community were divided on the subject. Through the Bridge, the Merchant Guild had become fabulously wealthy, buying land, status and magi spouses, much to the annoyance of the Crown. Imperial control of the Bridge had not changed this: the boom-bust nature of the Moontide economy – two years of harvest and ten years of waiting – was worse than ever.
‘We all know that the Second Crusade was a financial failure,’ Vult went on. ‘I understand this group debated whether to destroy the Bridge after that crusade?’
‘The Bridge is a necessary evil,’ Betillon growled. Hebusalim was the greatest city in western Antiopia, and his governorship had been immensely enriching. ‘Destroying it would be cutting our own throats.’
Cutting yours, anyway, Gurvon thought.
Vult sailed on serenely, ignoring the choppy undercurrents. ‘The objections to the destruction of the Bridge still apply. Though the Crusades grow more costly each Moontide, with less reward, they still paralyse trade, which hurts the merchants far more than the Crown. The Crusades allow us to dominate and weaken Antiopia. It isn’t in our interests to let dangerous men like Rashid Mubarak grow more powerful.’
‘Exactly,’ Korion put in. ‘We must keep our foot on their throats.’
‘Quite,’ said Vult, ‘and thanks to Magister Naxius and his intimate knowledge of the Bridge, we have a new solution to propose.’
‘Which is?’ Betillon asked impatiently.
‘Are you familiar with the concept that Urte is made up of massive landmasses called tectonic plates, a bit like an egg with a cracked shell?’ He looked around, saw nodding heads and continued, ‘And you know that the Leviathan Bridge is built upon an undersea ridge that runs from Pontus to the coast of Dhassa, yes? But what you might not realise is that the ridge is the remains of an isthmus that once linked Yuros and Antiopia. Well, the Ordo Costruo have studied the drowned isthmus. They believe that it was swept beneath the sea no more than two thousand years ago, when it was struck by a meteor, causing massive earthquakes and floods, something that is reflected in the mythology of both Dhassa and Sydia. The impact caused the isthmus to collapse into the sea and separated the two continents.’
‘An Act of Kore,’ Grand Prelate Wurther commented devoutly.
‘Perhaps,�
�� Vult agreed, ‘but it is also an inconvenience. Rondelmar has the power to subjugate all of Antiopia, but the Bridge is open for only two years in twelve, and we don’t have enough windships to supply an occupying army that is large enough to subdue the Noorish races, who outnumber us vastly. We can hold Hebusalim, and that is all. So you can see that it would be far better if the isthmus were to rise once more from the sea, enabling permanent access and occupation. My Lord Emperor would then be able to seize Antiopia and rule the known world.’
‘You want to haul the isthmus up from the ocean depths?’ Korion scoffed. ‘You’re mad! An Earth mage can lift a boulder: he can’t lift mountains from beneath the ocean! You could assemble every mage on Urte and not have enough power to do such a thing—’
‘On the contrary,’ Naxius interrupted, his creaking voice oozing smugness, ‘we do have such power. The Bridge itself has that power.’
‘The Bridge? It’s just a lump of stone—’
‘Actually, General, the Leviathan Bridge is a repository for the greatest reservoir of gnostic power ever created,’ Naxius replied. ‘The five towers are each topped with massive clusters of the same crystal that you saw Delta use a few moments ago. They convert the energy of light, which we call solarus, to gnostic energy. That energy is required to keep the Bridge intact whilst it is under the ocean – if released, it could raze a city.’
Korion no longer looked dismissive. ‘Is this true?’
‘Everything we know supports it,’ Vult replied.
‘Then why aren’t we building weapons using solarus crystals?’ the general demanded.
Gurvon glanced at Dubrayle and Betillon, who were probably wondering how solarus could be used to make money. Wurther was likely speculating whether he could cook with it.
‘It’s a matter of logistics,’ Vult replied. ‘The crystals are only effective for short bursts unless clustered in masses too large to transport – on top of that, the materials are complex and rare, and using them is dangerous and debilitating – long-term use can be fatal without protection.’
‘Magister Vult is correct,’ Naxius agreed, ‘but the solarus energy can be unlocked. The nexus where the power is gathered, stored and distributed is Midpoint Tower, halfway along the Bridge. It’s controlled from thrones in each of the five Bridge towers. These are manned by senior pure-bloods of the Ordo Costruo, ensuring the flow of energy, converting solarus to Earth-gnosis, is maintained. Without it, the Bridge would be destroyed whilst it is submerged. It requires training and great power to control and maintain the flows – I myself have performed this duty,’ he added, preening.