There was movement to either side; Gabriella was now standing in a knot of the robed soldiers. Four of them. The bowman collapsed in a writhing, screaming heap and a sword was swung at Gabriella's head from the right.
Gabriella ducked, cutting at the man's wrist with her left hand sword. She reversed the sword in her right fist, slamming it up into the attacker's throat. Then the man was down, Gabriella flicking the blood off her sword and into the faces of the other enemies, who flinched.
Crowe leaped down, drawing into two of the soldiers with a flurry of cuts and blows. Gabriella blocked a series of lightning-fast cuts from the man still facing her, then pushed, not cutting or stabbing, but simply shoving his enemy back by brute force. The man's sword was knocked aside and Gabriella stepped forward, slamming her shoulder into the enemy's chest. The man, knocked off balance, started to fall. Gabriella slipped in the offal spilling from the bowman and crashed to the floor on top of him. Both her swords clattered aside.
Gabriella knelt astride her fallen foe and punched, then again, and again. Grunts exploded out of Gabriella's chest in time to the flashes of pain from her knuckles as she beat the soldier down. With each punch, the soldier's bare head smacked back into the floor.
"Dez!" a voice called, "Dez!" There was a pause. "Gabriella!"
It was Crowe. Gabriella looked up, startled by his use of her proper name. Crowe was the only man left standing in the hall. "He's dead, all right? That slab of meat you're trying to drive into the floor is not going to get up again."
Gabriella looked at the soldier she had been punching. The man had not moved even though the punches had stopped. Blood was pooling under his head. His face looked like it was wearing a mask of stewing meat. The anger that burned between her ribs and under her shoulder-blades was not subsiding. It was boiling the breath in her lungs and rushing in her ears. "He was..." Gabriella didn't know what he was now. A dead opponent and no more. That was all that mattered; that was all that could matter.
Gabriella let go of the corpse, scooped up her swords and stood.
"His name was Pett Wynn. He was a Knight of the Order of the Swords of Dawn from Oweilau." She pointed to another body, without looking round. "Johan Kroun. Knight of the Order of the Swords of Dawn from Malmkrug. You get the idea."
Crowe looked dazed. "These were members of the Swords? What -"
"Not were. Still are. Kell's bodyguards are a team of the Swords." Her voice was very small. She felt as dazed as Crowe looked. A door clattered then and she reached through it and hauled out the last face she expected to see here, short of the Anointed Lord herself.
It was Brother Markus, who had once guarded a crossroads right outside Joachim the assassin's escape route. He looked different in his mercenary garb and she supposed she had too, when she had worn Kannis' company's gear to slip into Turnitia.
"Sister DeZantez... This isn't what it looks like!"
"Isn't it? What in the Pits is it, then? A meeting to plan a surprise party for the Anointed Lord's birthday? Well, my lad, what shall the charges be? Apostasy, heresy?"
"What are you talking about?" Markus demanded, his voice shaking as much as his bones, he was so terrified.
"You and your friends, playing bodyguard for a ranking member of a proscribed heretical sect. One who, as it happens, was involved in the assassination attempt on an Eminence of the Final Faith!"
"What about you yourself?"
"What? Me?!" She was outraged at his retort.
"Why are you here, then? If you are on duty, why aren't you in the garb of the Order?" Markus sidled closer, his voice dropping. "Or could it be that you're looking for a way out of the Order? That you came, like all those worthless dregs of humanity out there, to leave your old life behind and start a new one? A new life that's free of the dogma of the Anointed Lord?"
"If you want to be free of your life, free of the 'dogma of the Anointed Lord,' all you had to do was ask," Gabriella said. Then she slid forward, one sword batting his out of the way and the edge of her heel darting into his solar plexus, making a good attempt to go through it. He doubled over as she spun and rammed the point of her other sword into his throat. She could feel it scrape the collarbone as it went in, severing the vertebrae on its way out.
Markus' eyes bulged as he collapsed. He tried to take a breath, but his eyes were already glazing over, as blood flooded his lungs.
"Consider yourself free," Gabriella told him and withdrew the sword, which held only the barest smear of blood. As it had before, that neatness always pleased her. Markus toppled forward, the look of disbelief never leaving his face.
"Orders..." he managed to gasp, clutching at the hole in his throat.
Gabriella didn't believe a word of it. "Who's orders?"
"Eminence -"
"Don't lie to me, you whoreson!"
"Eminence..."
"Liar," she whispered, but too late. Markus was in the Pits of Kerberos.
CHAPTER 20
All hell was breaking loose as Crowe helped Gabriella out onto the terraces. More Brotherhood guards attacked them at every step of the way, but they were no match for Gabriella's dual short swords and Crowe's broadsword.
"It's a trap!" Crowe shouted, for the benefit of the unarmed people around. "The Brotherhood are selling us out to the Faith."
People looked at each other, pointing and gesticulating, all trying to judge how true that was. Gabriella took up the same cry as she fought across the terraces. "They worship the same God, dammit!"
That was enough logic for a few of the more alcohol-fuelled hotheads, who immediately started closing on the guards. As soon as an armed Brother cut down an unarmed gambler, it looked as if Crowe and Gabriella's claim was verified. At once, mercenaries turned on Brothers and drunks picked fights with each other. Crowe hoped there weren't too many true Brotherhood members in the vicinity; waving three or four pounds of iron around for a long time took its tool.
He cut down two more men and shouted: "Kell's dead! His guards were Faith assassins!"
The fighting was dying off quickly, as there were a lot more angry drunks and mercenaries than there were Brotherhood swordsmen. The last few Brothers broke out of a ring of mercenaries and made it to horses. A couple of arrows followed ineffectually after them as they galloped away, but they didn't get too far.
Halfway across the valley between the gatehouse in the ridge of peaks and the archway that - from this side - resembled a wide fish-mouth filled with fan-like stalactites, half a dozen riders in gleaming white swept out from a gulley and tore through them. Even at this distance, Crowe didn't need a spyglass to recognise Knights of the Order of the Swords of Dawn.
"It's the Faith!" someone called. One person cheered, but quickly fell silent. "They've come for us!"
They've come for somebody, Crowe thought.
People were gathering their belongings and preparing to get out of Freedom. Crowe was glad the place had lost its lustre for them. It was better that they found their own reasons for leaving, rather than him try to convince them. He knew they would never have listened. The thought reminded him that he still had the two ships' log books. He went to the nearest cooking fire and tossed them in.
Several people were approaching as he did so. Gabriella slumped onto a bench against a terrace wall, staring into space.
"You know what's going on," the nearest man said. "The Order of the Swords are out there! Are they going to attack?"
Crowe wondered how he was supposed to know and almost asked Gabriella. He caught himself just in time, not wanting to reveal her true identity to these confused people. They'd probably try something stupid like holding her hostage for safe passage.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
With a little cajoling, he got a few mercenaries to stand guard. They wouldn't do any good against the Order, but it would make them feel better. Then he returned to Gabriella's side.
"Gabriella," he said softly, so that no-one nearby would hear. "I know... I'm not the best role model
for a devout lass, but one thing I've learned in my life is to expect betrayal. It's less of a shock that way."
"I noticed that about you." Her voice was tiny and distant, as if she wasn't really there.
"I know you don't want to believe what that bugger said about your Eminence, and maybe you shouldn't, because maybe it was a load of turds, but you have to accept that he said it and that maybe he believed it."
"That's not what troubles me. What troubles me, is I already thought of it, remember? Except I hoped I was lying to Kell when I said it." Tears began to streak down her cheeks. "Am I supposed to accept even the possibility another Eminence was behind the attempt on Rhodon's life?"
"It wouldn't be the first time some bloke with ideas above his station made it look like he or his mates were under threat. False flag, mercenaries call it."
Gabriella shook her head. "But a public assassination attempt, it makes no sense. If the assassin is a too good - or too bad - a shot... If Kalten didn't have decent Healers in the castle, Eminence Rhodon would be with the Lord of All on Kerberos."
A delegation of men and women began edging towards Crowe and Gabriella as the sun moved behind the Glass Mountain.
"You have to lead us!" one girl insisted. "Those soldiers aren't going to just let us return home. They'll think we're sinners, they think we're heretics. I mean... what do you think?"
"Do I know what they think? Is that what you're asking?" Gabriella mocked. "I know what they think because I am them; don't you understand that? I'm an Enlightened Sister of the Order of the Swords of Dawn. Those men and women out there are my comrades and my friends."
The girl paled, but stood her ground.
"If you try to fight them," Gabriella went on, "you will die. And I will be one of those killing you."
Crowe pulled her aside. "Dez... Gabriella, they have a point."
"I am not going to fight against the Order!" Gabriella snarled.
"You have to."
"Never!"
"They're going to get a lot of innocent people killed. Including us, Dez, don't forget that. There's more than just Brotherhood thickheads in here. There are their sisters, wives, friends, people who don't even know they've got a cuckoo in the nest. If the troops out there don't let us away from Freedom Point then they - and we - will all burn! Not just the Brotherhood followers who deserve it." She looked away. "All right, love, I can see that this isn't quite sinking in. Let me put it this way: Does the Faith make mistakes?"
"We're none of us perfect, I suppose."
"Kurt Stoll."
"What?"
"Kurt Stoll. The Enlightened One you roasted back at Solnos."
"I know who Stoll was. What's he got to do with anything?"
"He was an Enlightened One of the Final Faith, right? But he made mistakes, didn't he?"
"That's putting it mildly."
"So... If you could have got to him before he went bad - let's say you saw him go into the Golden Huntress for his first whore or his first meeting with Warrigan when he got daubed with the linked circles -would you have run in and stopped him?"
"Of course!" Preventing the fall of a Enlightened One would be a moment of great honour, and great service to the Lord. "I'd try reasoning with him and if that didn't work, I'd outright order him to get the hell out."
"And if that didn't work?"
"I'd deck him."
"That's my girl! Decking your own priests... I knew there was a reason I liked you enough not to kill you."
"It would be better that than seeing him burn," she said frostily.
"A lot of these people were conned by Goran Kell, Karel Scarra and others like them. By Kell, Dez. These are all people conned by the Brotherhood. Most of them probably think they were driven to it by the Faith, but you and I know that isn't true. The Faith is just something convenient to blame when you get caught out trying to put one over on how things are supposed to work. I mean, what's the punishment for singing a Brotherhood hymn in the street in Turnitia?"
"A hefty fine, maybe a few nights in the cells. Five or ten lashes if you're really far gone."
"It's a lot less than burning. Yet who told these people they'd go to the roasting gibbets for the slightest thing, or be castrated for whoring, if the Faith caught them breaking Makennon's rules? It sure as buggery wasn't you, was it? No, pet, it was the Brotherhood. Nice way to recruit new blood, not to mention new gold for the coffers; tell people your rivals will cut them up and burn them but that you'll look after them for a fee."
"You make it sound like a protection racket."
"Isn't it just, though? Protection for the soul."
"Protecting souls is my job."
"Then do it! There are sinners here, right enough but there are also victims of Brotherhood propaganda who need protecting from their -"
"Mistakes."
"Yeah, Dez. Their mistakes. And Kell's plans."
CHAPTER 21
Gabriella stood on top of the gatehouse, put a spyglass to her eye and surveyed the Order's positions in the valley beyond. The twenty Knights had excellent support from the mercenary companies they had brought along, but Gabriella wasn't too worried about them. People could always bribe mercenaries, if it came to it. Then again, these were bands with old contracts with the Final Faith.
"Any thoughts?" Crowe asked, next to her.
"Preceptor DeBarres is on form, going by the dispositions. We're not going to fight our way out of here, even if I wanted to."
"At least it'd be a better death than burning. And some might have a chance."
"Come on, Crowe, you're a soldier. You know you can't just shove a sword in a serving wench's hand and expect her to take on experienced warriors. Especially not the Order of the Swords of Dawn."
"We can't leave them to it."
"Look, let's be blunt about this. These are ordinary people. Farmers, merchants, innkeepers, beggars... They're not soldiers and you know they can't be made into soldiers in a matter of hours."
"Believe me, Dez, I've noticed. Even Kell knew it would take years."
"Good. I'm glad you accept that, not that it matters, because even if it was possible, I wouldn't do it. I'm a Knight of the Swords. Those are my people out there."
"Your people are going to be trying to kill you, first chance they get."
"They're going to be trying to kill people around me."
"A battlefield's a confusing place, Dez."
"I know."
"In the heat of the battle, I promise you, they won't be able to tell you apart from this lot."
"Then I'm glad I have a better idea."
"Fighting our way through the Order's lines is not an option," Gabriella announced to the gathered people of Freedom. "But that does not mean we can't break through."
"How?" a man asked. "If we don't fight -"
"If you want to rely on force of arms, you go right ahead and give my regards to the Lord of All when you see him. You're not warriors. What we need to be relying on is speed and surprise. We'll lure the Swords' cavalry to a point where I can meet them for parlay. I'll be dressed like them, in a manner they'll recognise. While we negotiate with them, they'll not be covering the western pass anything like as strongly as they are now. At that point, you will break out there. Do not try to make for the archway and out through the sinkhole. It's a bottleneck. But by taking to the smaller canyons to the west and scattering up the slopes, they won't be able to follow you. That's your best hope to make it out."
"What... What should we do after that?" A woman said.
"Repent." Gabriella said simply. "If you were brought here by a friend or family member, then tell what they did to our Confessors. If you are truly repentant, and not a follower of the Divine Path, you will be welcomed back into the Final Faith."
"What about those of us who don't want to be part of the Final Faith."
"Then hide. Because our Confessors will find you and your souls will be cleansed of your unrepented sins, by fire."
"Won't you
lead us?" a girl asked.
A mercenary scoffed. "So we'll all become good little Faith worshippers? You know that's not going to happen."
"Most of you will," Gabriella said. "Not all, I know. But most of you will see the light. Some of you will burn. Definitely, deservedly. But not today." She paused to let that sink in. "We move in an hour."
An hour later, Gabriella mounted her horse. She wore her surplice, with the Faith's crossed-circle, over a sleeveless tunic and short kirtle. Beside her, Crowe was also on horseback and, behind the pair of them, were the people of Freedom.
Gabriella looked up at the swollen globe of Kerberos and nodded to it in greeting. Truth to tell, she expected to be in its clouds in a matter of minutes, whatever happened. She would not fight her own comrades in the Order.
"Sinner?"
"I'm hanging on your every word, God-girl." Crowe snapped back.
"Be careful."
Then she spurred her horse forward.
On the raised mound where the soldiers had camped, DeBarres lowered his spyglass. He raised his hand and waved it in a circle over his head. "Two riders are heading this way. Let's go and meet them."
He lowered his helm and galloped on to the field, nineteen other Knights fanning out behind him.
The ground passed under Gabriella's horse with terrific speed, but she barely felt the bumpiness of the ride. It was as if the horse was gliding through clouds already. With no helm, she could feel the wind in her hair and it was exquisite. If this was to be her last living sensation, it was a good one.
She didn't even realise she was whooping with delight.
She waved at the oncoming Knights, gesturing northeast, and angling her mount that way.
Crowe felt much the same. So he would die here. It was as good a time as any. He was vaguely aware of his hand raising a pole with a white sheet tied to it, but he didn't really believe a helmeted Knight would even notice the sheet until it was too late.
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