by Mike Wild
Only Kali knew otherwise. She stared up into the shadows of the church, following the flickering light that created the imagery, and saw it. The sphere. It had to contain one of the memory crystals she had encountered in the Crucible of the Dragon God, the same kind of crystal that had recorded Jenna's messages to Slowhand, and was perhaps held aloft by some miniature version of the rotors that had driven the Faith's ill-fated airships. Makennon's mob might have lost their battle for the skies in the Drakengrats but they had adapted both technologies for another far more insidious purpose. The Eyes of the Lord were no messengers of the Lord of All, they were surveillance devices.
Overseers.
Gods, no wonder McCain was enjoying himself. The Filth had a new toy for its voyeurs to play with.
Despite how difficult it might be to explain, Kali knew she had to tell the people of Solnos what was going on. It wasn't just for her or their sakes, but for those of everyone where these things might already have been deployed.
"This isn't divine proof!" She shouted to them. "This is a recording of only part of what occurred. The Lord of All didn't see what happened underground because 'He' couldn't follow us there!" Kali paused, looking up. "There is a device," she went on, "a device constructed with the aid of Old Race science - a science developed long ago by the elves and the dwarves." She stared at the blank faces before her and then turned on the Overseer. "Why don't you tell them, McCain? Tell them about memory crystals and airships and your sphere, and how those machines out there in the sky aren't from the hells but from civilisations far older and more advanced than our own? Why don't you tell them that it was they who left the shiny things in the dirt? Or are you afraid? Afraid that if these people learn the truth, know how you use their tools, that you'll no longer be able to bend them to your beliefs?"
McCain gave Kali time to take a breath and then turned to stare at the jury as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Only she caught the knowing flare of his eyes as his gaze passed hers. "'Memory crystals'? 'Airships'? 'Sphere'?" he said with a chuckle that became a laugh. "These terms are unknown to me. The only truth I know is that which is shown to me by the Eyes of the Lord."
The Overseer raised his hands once more and the images returned, playing over and over again.
Keep going, Kali thought, seeing Gabriella DeZantez edging forward from the door, peering up into the shadows.
Unfortunately, just as the Enlightened One was about to become more enlightened, McCain sensed her movement and the sphere, controlled by some unknown mechanism, zipped out of sight.
"It was a trick!" Kali shouted to the jury, but received only unsympathetic glances. She turned to DeZantez. If she was going to bring her onto her side, now was the time. "You have to believe me," she said. "It was there. The images showed only part of the truth, not the whole truth, and certainly not divine truth. It's circumstantial. Give me time and I'll show you the sphere. Give me time and I'll prove to you what happened."
DeZantez hesitated. Her gaze alternated between Kali and McCain.
"May I remind you," McCain interrupted, "that the Enlightened One plays no part other than that of an observer in these proceedings. Her opinion carries no weight."
"Hey!" Kali shouted at McCain. "You want an opinion that carries weight, you bastard, I'll show you one!"
She leapt the podium, intending to land a fist in his smug, fat face, but found her neck scissored between DeZantez's twin blades before she could swing. Barely able to speak because of the blades pressing on her throat, barely able to move her head, she strained to look into DeZantez's eyes.
"Please," Kali implored.
"Not until I know."
So, that's it, Kali thought. With four words DeZantez had declared her independence, but shattered her hopes that she would act on the injustice that was happening here. The fact of the matter was there was no evidence of injustice, and until there was, the Sword of Dawn was bound by her oath to the Faith.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," McCain said. "What is your verdict?"
Kali swallowed, waiting for the word that she knew was going to come.
"Guilty."
"Guilty."
"Guilty."
One after the other, the jury members stood and delivered the same verdict, and Kali was powerless to do anything about it. DeZantez remained stony-faced during the delivery, even when McCain delivered his sentence.
"The Eyes of the Lord have witnessed your crime. The sentence is death."
"No," Kali said quietly.
McCain nodded to DeZantez. "Prepare the gibbet."
Kali struggled against the grip of the guards that now surrounded her. She had been fully aware that the gibbet was the Final Faith's preferred method of punishment - had been fleetingly aware of it hanging outside as she had been led into the church - but had refused to acknowledge its presence until now. Things all of a sudden became very unreal and she felt a dreamlike coldness ripple through her body. As she watched DeZantez exit the church and found herself being hauled after her into the sunlight, Kali realised that her holiday had finally come to an end here, far out in the backwoods, among strangers who intended to burn her. She felt suddenly, desperately lonely and yearned for Slowhand, Merrit Moon, anyone who could say no, don't do this, this is wrong. But all of her friends were far, far away, thinking other thoughts, and all they would know of her death would be that she never returned home. She was alone and, worse, about to die for a crime she would never dream of committing.
Well, hells, she wasn't going without a fight.
Kali drove her elbows into the stomachs of the goons holding her and slammed her fists into their faces as they doubled over. The pair staggered backwards and she dropped to a crouch, swinging herself around her hands and kicking out, knocking their legs from under them. The guards fell on their backs in a clatter of armour and, as they struggled to pick themselves up, Kali punched both in the face, knocking them cold. She sprang upright, twisting to face Randus McCain. The Overseer swallowed and backed up against the church wall before her less than happy gaze.
Then, Gabriella DeZantez casually walked in front of her, between them.
The Enlightened One had both blades unsheathed and assumed a low, defensive stance. One blade was thrust forward, wavering slightly as if tempting Kali to make a move, the other held back and unwavering, ready to follow through. DeZantez was, in short, prepared for a swift and deadly double strike.
DeZantez spoke one word, but it was enough.
"Don't."
Kali slumped, her battle tension reluctantly leaving her body, and the guards once more took her. DeZantez sheathed her blades and returned to the duty McCain had given her. Kali stared at the Overseer as he watched DeZantez manipulate the chains that lowered the gibbet from its hanging position on the side of the church, then open the front of the cage. The look of abject terror he had exhibited moments before had been replaced by a twisted smile, and he wiped a small amount of drool from his mouth as he turned to his guards.
"Strip her," he said.
Strip me? Kali thought.
"Get your farking hands off!" She shouted as the bodyguards began to tear at her bodysuit. Thankfully, she saw DeZantez move forward, at last seeming willing to intervene. Instead of halting their actions, however, she regarded Kali steadily.
"It's better this way," she said. "Trust me, when the naphtha comes, you will not wish it to first burn your clothes."
Naphtha. Perversely, the word made Kali feel even colder than she had before, and she stared at the pipes that ran from the side of the church into the top of the gibbet cage, at the spark ready to ready ignite the substance as it poured onto the victim within. Well, nightmare as this was, she sure as hells wasn't going to entertain McCain more than he already would be.
"He isn't concerned about how easily I die," she said, with disgust. "Let me remain as I am."
DeZantez hesitated, then nodded to the bodyguards. They bundled her into the gibbet, slamming and lo
cking the cage behind her.
"It's your choice," DeZantez said, turning away.
Kali stared after her and, as she did, became aware of McCain laughing.
"What did you expect?" He said. "That the Enlightened One would balk at the horror of what is about to happen to you, force me to release you from my custody?" He shook his head. "The gibbet is an everyday occurrence, girl, don't you understand? Your enlightened friend here has burned countless sinners in her career. Have you not, Miss DeZantez?"
DeZantez stared at Kali, still emotionless, and nodded.
"This might seem like the ultimate horror to you," McCain continued. "But it is her job."
Kali grabbed the bars of the gibbet. They were rough beneath her grip, coated with a substance that once had been the flesh of 'sinners' but was now only a permanently caked layer, as hard as coral.
"McCain," she said. "You do this and I promise you I will regret it."
McCain smiled. "I like a sense of humour. But I equally dislike modesty. Raise the gibbet, Sister DeZantez."
Gabriella DeZantez paused for a second but then turned a wheel on the wall of the church.
Kali felt the cage floor shift beneath her and sway and creak as it was lifted well off the ground. The climb brought her within the full glare of the sun and she blinked and prickled in the brightness and heat. It was nothing, though, compared with what was to come, and she stared down at McCain, DeZantez and the goons, swallowing dryly as they were joined by the jury, filing slowly out of the church to witness what was to come. Any hope she might have had for a last minute reprieve or hint of compassion was instantly dashed as she saw their upturned faces; vengeful and convinced of her guilt. Suddenly she appreciated the awful reality of the situation she was in. To her this was a waking nightmare, but such was the iron rule of the Faith here in the sticks that to these people, as McCain had said, it was just an everyday occurrence. A normal way to die.
"The taps, Miss DeZantez," McCain ordered.
"No..." Kali said softly to herself, clenching her fists around the rough bars.
She began to struggle as she watched DeZantez turn the taps on the wall of the church and they vented steam. Drops of moisture fell to the ground. The pipes above her hissed, shook and gurgled as the naphtha entered them and began to build up pressure inside. It would take seconds for the lethal substance to travel their length and Kali was suddenly overwhelmed by how close to death she was. She had never been afraid of dying - had faced it many times - but to have it occur like this was somehow tainted and wrong, and filled her with despair and fury.
She renewed her struggle against the bars, rocking the cage violently on its chains. The pipes groaned under the strain of the protest she unleashed and, for a moment, Kali thought that was the way out. If she could only dislodge the pipes, she would escape this after all. But then she saw that the pipes were flexing with her, joined at various points along their length by some rubbery substance that could presumably withstand the heat of the naphtha.
"Really, Miss Hooper," McCain said, "do you not think that all who have died before you have not tried the same..."
Kali looked up at the pipes and then quickly down again, for the gurgling was louder now and closer. Before she jammed her eyes shut in a futile attempt to block out the pain she glanced over at Horse, her loyal mount bucking in agitation beneath the restraining hands of a dozen of the townspeople, and wondered what would happen to him now. Then she felt the first tiny hot spits of naphtha searing the back of her neck.
Something cracked like thunder, and there was the sound of wrending metal. No further naphtha came and Kali opened her eyes.
She saw that the pipes had been torn apart at their mid section and were dancing about in mid air, vomiting their lethal content to the ground. Below, McCain and his goons were stepping back awkwardly, trying to avoid the oil, while DeZantez threw herself at the taps to stop any further release before lowering the gibbet to the ground.
The flow stopped. Kali's gaze turned to McCain, whose face was red with fury. The subject of his fury seemed to be behind her, out of sight, and so she had no idea to whom McCain addressed his next words.
"What," the Overseer rumbled angrily, "is the meaning of this?"
A figure strode into view and Kali frowned. She wasn't sure who she had expected miraculously to have appeared - Slowhand, perhaps, Aldrededor, Dolorosa or Moon - but the man she saw was a complete stranger to her. Tall, muscular, and garbed like a huntsman in leather britches and squallcoat sewn from irregularly cut pieces of hide, his stubbled face with its piercing brown eyes regarded McCain with some degree of contempt.
"The meaning of this," he replied in a voice clearly used to having the last word, "is that your execution is over."
As he spoke, he wound back into a coil a whip made of nine lengths of chain, clearly the weapon which had ruptured the pipes, and moved around to the front of the cage and released its door. He offered Kali a hand down and she took it silently, still assessing what the hells was going on here.
"On whose authority?" McCain demanded.
"The highest authority. That of the Anointed Lord."
I wonder what the Lord of All would make of that? Kali thought.
It was clear what McCain's opinion was. The Overseer narrowed his eyes and beckoned his bodyguards to the fore, where they placed hands on their weapons.
"Forgive me," he said, "but you hardly have the appearance of an agent of the Anointed Lord, and I know, or know of, most of them. What is your name?"
"My name is Jakub Freel."
"Freel?" McCain repeated, dismissively. "I have never heard of you."
McCain may not have heard of him but Kali had, and she stood back slightly in some shock. She stared at her rescuer, her own eyes narrowed. Jakub Freel. This was the man whom Jenna, Slowhand's sister, had married. Other than that, however, she knew little about him. As to his role here, she was as much in the dark as McCain himself.
"How is it that you carry the authority of the Anointed Lord?" asked the Overseer. "What office do you serve?"
"Let's just to say that the office I occupy was once occupied by another, now deceased."
McCain sneered. "And this other was?"
"Konstantin Munch."
Freel's answer gave the Overseer pause. His sneer disappeared and, somewhere beneath his jowls, Kali saw the man swallow, hard. That was hardly surprising. Munch's remit in the Final Faith had been to tackle those jobs that might prove embarrassing in others' hands, the head of a shady group whose powers, as a result, transcended the otherwise rigid structure of the Faith, allowing them to go everywhere and exist nowhere at the same time.
Kali found it interesting to note, however, that while Munch had surrounded himself with lackeys, Freel appeared to be working alone, and she got the impression that this was his preference. Whether that was because he was capable of single-handedly dealing with what the Faith threw at him or not, she didn't yet know, but she did know that it was time to start getting her own handle on things.
"So, you're Stan's replacement," she said casually, and nodded at the cage. "I like the new approach to the job. Getting me out of there was not something he'd have done."
"Oh, he might. In these circumstances."
"Which are?"
"I tracked you here because the Anointed Lord has need of your help. We need to leave for Scholten right away."
Kali was stunned.
"You're kidding, right? You're here because Makennon needs my help? Again? This is the same Makennon whose arse I saved at Orl but who then sent me a map to a dwarven deathtrap as thanks? The same Makennon whose people nicked the plans for the Llothriall from my own tavern? The same Makennon whose skewed religion nearly got me fried alive just now? The same Makennon who... fark it, never mind."
Kali turned and began to stomp towards Horse. "Tell her to go to the hells..."
"I wish I could," Freel said, striding after her.
"Wish you could what?"
<
br /> "Tell her to go to the hells."
Kali span. "Look, at least Munch was an obvious nutter. Do you want to tell me what you're talking about?"
"The hells," Freel said. "We fear they have already taken her."
There was no way that Kali could resist a hook like that, was there? She agreed there and then to accompany Freel, at least until she knew more about what was going on.
There remained, however, the small matter of Randus McCain, who refused to recognise Freel's authority and thus to release her to him. Kali knew full well that it was little to do with authority and more with the bastard's desire - stripping her whether she liked it or not this time - to get his fat hands on her again, and her immediate inclination was to stuff the Overseer in his own gibbet with a naphtha pipe up his arse. She sensed Freel felt the same - seeing through the pretence of procedure to recognise the tin god pervert for what he was - but while McCain himself would prove no obstacle if Freel chose to remove her by force, his goons about the town might. Not than any of them looked as if they'd stand a chance again him - it was just that, new to the job as he was, he might not wish the paperwork that would result from mopping up a town of his own people.
Freel suggested a compromise.
Kali would be returned to McCain if she failed to deliver the help the Faith was asking of her. To ensure her return, Gabriella DeZantez would accompany them where they needed to go.
"What?" Kali said.
Once again she began to stomp towards Horse.
And once again Gabriella DeZantez stepped in front of her, blades drawn.
Kali whirled on Freel. "Are you serious?"
Freel folded his arms. "It appears Sister DeZantez is serious."
"But I already agreed to come!"
"Ah. But not necessarily to help."
"I'm innocent, dammit!"
"That remains to be seen."
Kali's gaze snapped between the two of them, exasperated. What the hells was going on here? One minute this... enforcer was asking for help, the next taking her into his farking custody! Then a small wink from Freel mollified her. He had no intention of returning her to the Overseer, just getting her away from him without the need for bloodshed.