‘You of all men accuse me of that?’ Vener roared, jumping to his feet. ‘Given the violence that has gone on between priests and soldiers here, you ask what reason I have for being in the Order?’ He started towards the door. ‘The stench of hypocrisy in here has become too much for me, I think-’
‘General,’ Certinse broke in, ‘please retake your seat. I accuse you of nothing. As for hypocrisy, I am willing to admit I too have forgotten the founding principles of our Order in recent years.’
Vener halted and glared at him. ‘This child, Ruhen, has reminded you?’ he asked sceptically.
‘The grace of the Gods works in myriad ways,’ Certinse said by way of reply. ‘The child has played only a part, I assure you of that. More importantly, this Land cries out for protection and leadership, and we can give it both.’
‘ We? ’ General Afasin echoed, leaning forward in his chair. ‘An army of the devoted, that’s our creed — under command of the saviour. Are you saying the child is the saviour of our prophecies or not?’
‘I’m saying that Ruhen holds a unique position in the Land, but his message is one of peace. This child has no desire to lead an army, so why force one upon him? Whatever we do or do not acknowledge publicly, the common folk in every quarter of the Circle City see him as an emissary of the Gods. Given the iniquities the cults have imposed these past few months, his message is perhaps not as heretical as we might normally have believed.’
All four men blinked at him: Sourl in disbelief, Vener, Chaist and Afasin each trying to process the implications and to find the benefit for them.
‘You would cast out the priesthood?’ Sourl demanded at last, ‘and follow these peasant preachers all the way to the Dark Place instead?’
‘No,’ Certainse said firmly, ‘the priesthood cannot be cast out. There would be no Order without them. But it is this council, not unelected priests, which rules the Knights of the Temples, and it has always been clear that our soldiers must outnumber the priests.’
‘Why do we need this child, then?’ Vener asked, at last retaking his seat. ‘Even as a figurehead, the mission of the Order is clear enough, established down the centuries. So why now take direction from some child?’
‘A child who willingly faces down daemons,’ Chaist pointed out. ‘There our theology coincides.’
Theology? A child of that age shouldn’t know what the word means, you damn fool! You still think him just a child? Certinse screamed in his head, but he smiled and said, ‘A wise observation, my friend. The child has set his stall against corrupt priests and daemons — which is entirely consistent with our creed — and if he truly is an emissary of the Gods, his word and followers deserve the protection we can offer.’
‘And what can the child offer us? The common folk are fickle; their approval of this child might not last through winter.’
Certinse nodded and opened his mouth to reply, then paused as though hesitating. He pulled his chair back from the table and sat. At last he started, ‘Ruhen counts the Harlequins among his followers; I hardly think he’ll be so easily forgotten. However, we are men of the Land, men of power and politics.’ He raised a hand to stay any objections as he continued, ‘Our obligations have always been to the temporal as well as the spiritual: ours is a Land where both armies and natural disaster have destroyed cities, where priests are murdered and temples lie empty because of the actions of the few.
‘Ruhen’s Children go to preach to all peoples, to reignite their faith in the Gods. Our military might can ensure that takes place safely. In the process both our reach and his will be extended accordingly. Gentlemen, on such an understanding I have a new member of the council to propose: Lord Gesh, Chosen of Ilit and Lord of the Litse.’
Both Afasin and Vener jumped in their seats when they realised the implication.
‘Ruhen offers us the entire Circle City?’ Vener demanded. ‘Can he really deliver Lord Gesh?’
Certinse nodded. ‘The Litse are a pious tribe who share our devotion to the Gods, but they have spent decades constrained by the cults in a way we’ve only recently been able to appreciate. For anyone — us or Lord Gesh — to take Ruhen as their declared lord is to invite chaos, but to foster understanding between par ties… Well, that is more palatable for all involved.
‘Byora will not object to the sight of our uniforms on its streets, but its free status will help Ruhen, and foster trade with our neighbouring states. Ismess and Fortinn quarters will formally become Knights of the Temples protectorates.’
‘The trading heart of the West,’ Vener mused. ‘Tor Salan was crippled when the Menin conquered it — Ruhen’s message might find fertile ground there if we carry it, Helrect and Scree too.’
‘In Sautin too,’ Afasin agreed. ‘Anyar’s murderous rule wins him little affection with his people.’
Certinse solemnly bowed his head in acknowledgement and pressed his hands together. ‘And Narkang’s eastern lands: the Menin have made that area a lawless, beleaguered place, the people abandoned to their fates by a godless king. Gentlemen, the Land itself cries out for intercession and the Knights of the Temples must answer that call. It is our holy and moral duty.’
CHAPTER 11
Travelling in the wake of Tirah’s Ghosts, Isak and his companions made good time heading north. Like all travellers in those parts they skirted well clear of Llehden, that strange, isolated shire in the heart of Narkang territory where Isak had recuperated. A sense of longing had Isak again and again turning Toramin in the direction of the cottage by the lake, and each time Mihn corrected the horse’s path without comment. He knew the direction Isak’s thoughts were taking: Llehden had been a sanctuary for him, a place of quiet and calm. But Isak could not return there now. The people of Llehden avoided the lake where Isak had lived for fear of the Ragged Man, a local myth of a vengeful spirit without a soul. That role had now been filled by another. The Menin lord was even more suited to it than Isak had been, and as a result that lakeshore would now be as perilous as the locals believed it to be.
‘Always the wagon-brat,’ Isak had muttered to himself two days before they reached the Morwhent, the great river that ran all the way west to Narkang.
‘A little more than that, my Lord,’ Mihn responded.
The suggestion prompted a shake of the head from Isak. ‘Not any more. We’re coming full circle now: no longer a lord, no longer a man with a home. Llehden’s the last home I’ll ever have and I can’t go back there now.’
‘Look around you,’ Mihn said gently. ‘How many of us truly have a home? Me? Vesna? Legana? You are far from alone.’
Isak laughed unexpectedly. ‘I didn’t mean that as a complaint, my friend. If anything it was the opposite.’
‘This is your home,’ Mihn said after a moment’s thought, ‘riding in the wilds, not wearing a ducal circlet and playing statesman.’
Isak nodded. ‘This’s all I have ever really known. Here I can think. In Tirah I was as out of place as Bahl — that man was born to be some sort of saviour; it was never me.’ He smiled. ‘All those titles and expectations, the armies of men looking to me for guidance
… Vesna could have been a king, but not me; I was born to tear things down. The best I can hope for is to give someone else the chance to rebuild.’
Mihn guided his horse closer and spoke quietly. ‘Not everyone has found such peace out here.’
Isak followed Mihn’s eyes to where Vesna rode alone, his head bowed. ‘What can I say?’ he whispered.
‘Nothing that will help, but still you must. He is your friend.’
He looked up at the sky. ‘When we stop for the night.’
When the light started to fade a few hours after that Isak called a halt and set to attending to his horses’ needs. The battle-mage, Fei Ebarn, walked a long circle around their small camp, warding it against daemon incursion. The effort was most likely unnecessary; daemon sightings had been few since they’d left Moorview, and if any still walked Tairen Moor they would keep their distance from power they couldn’t match.
At twilight, their brief meal finished, the others settled down. Isak watched Vesna for a few minutes as the Mortal-Aspect sat lost in his thoughts, his eyes fixed on the distant swirls of dark cloud on the horizon. Eventually Isak rose, carefully not to wake the hound lying between him and Mihn, and skirted the fire to reach his friend’s side. Only when Isak crossed his field of view did Vesna look up, but he said nothing by way of greeting. Isak looked
