there were no signs of life on Toristern’s ordered streets, something he found disconcerting. ‘May I ask your name?’
The man bowed. ‘I am Commissar Kestis, of the Third Enlightenment. The Prefect of Toristern has instructed me to welcome you and escort your party to your allocated lodgings.’
Isak was about to reply when another commissar stepped forward and gestured to the soldiers behind them. ‘Lord Sebe, Brother-Under-Alterr Kestis — there is first the matter of the Ziggurat Mysteries. You come claiming the sanctuary of Alterr, but that is only the first of the signs that must be revealed.’
Isak peered at the man. This one was taller than Kestis, but skinny, and obviously lacking Kestis’ good nature. He also had a white band to his scarf, which made Isak’s fingers itch for his sword-grip.
Kestis turned in surprise, but checked himself before he said anything to admonish the man. Isak guessed he outranked the Sentinel, but they were challenged only cautiously when they policed their own.
‘It is necessary to demonstrate that immediately, Horshen?’ Kestis inquired.
‘So the Night Council has decreed, Brother-Under-Alterr,’ Horshen said haughtily. ‘Before the sanctuary of a settlement is granted the first two signs at least must be revealed.’
The soldiers Horshen had gestured to disappeared into a nearby building, fetching out a shackled man. The prisoner was painfully thin and almost naked, with crude tattoos on his hairless chest that were doubtlessly marks of slavery. On his arms and legs Isak could also see long bruises and red welts, the signs of regular, sustained beatings.
‘Very well,’ Kestis muttered. ‘I had been under the impression the Prefect intended for any such revelations to take place tomorrow, but if the Night Council prefer you to provide a first-hand report… The mysteries and signs are their purview.’ He glanced back at the troops and commissars behind him. ‘Commissar, dismiss the troops.’
The bulk of the Black Swords vanished quickly enough, until only ten remained in position. Three commissars also took their leave. At that distance Isak couldn’t see anything to mark them out on their uniforms, but clearly they were of the first rank only, and not privy to the mysteries of the second.
‘Horshen? Does the Night Council’s decree extend to soldiers witnessing the mysteries?’
The skinny man shot his superior a look of pure venom. ‘They are servants of the Council, tested by the priests of Karkarn and Alterr and worthy to witness such signs as I deem necessary.’
‘So you want a demonstration?’ Isak said. ‘Something to report back?’
Horshen looked defiant, but he knew his role enough not to stray beyond the bounds of his orders. ‘It is the duty of the commissars to question; to test the faithful and ensure they walk with the blessing of the Gods.’ The commissar turned to his terrified prisoner, standing helpless in the hands of the two soldiers. ‘The second of the Ziggurat Mysteries speaks of the ability to kill with a single word.’
Isak grinned in his unsettling, lopsided way and shrugged.
‘Shinir.’
The prisoner whimpered and sagged in the restraining grip of his captors, but his captivity had left him so cowed and feeble he did not even try to fight them and the two had no effort in holding him steady. Shinir raised her bow and let fly in one swift movement.
At that distance the arrow tore right into Commissar Horsh en’s neck, passing a foot out the other side as it threw him to the ground. The man hit the ground, legs kicking in uncontrolled spasms, as the remaining Black Swords immediately drew their weapons.
‘Hold!’ Kestis croaked at them, visibly shocked at a spray of blood that pattered over his boots. He recoiled a pace even as he spoke, distancing himself from the dead body. ‘Sheathe your weapons!’
There was a moment of sullen silence before any complied, but even those under the authority of the Night Council were not willing to disobey the direct order of a commissar. Eventually the soldiers stepped back while one of the prisoner’s guards inspected Horshen, confirming what they all knew: the commissar was dead. The stand-off lasted only a few moments, then a second Sentinel pushed her way forward through the remaining commissars. Isak felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Just from the way she walked he could tell this was not some spiteful, low-ranked fanatic.
Though plain-faced and lacking Zhia’s dark presence, the commissar still reminded him of the vampire. This was someone who knew their own power all too well and had no need to adopt the sort of supercilious air Commissar Horshen had.
‘Clever,’ she commented in accented Farlan, which made Isak assume she was from the north, where the two nations met. She sounded disinterested rather than scornful, as though Isak had not yet merited anything further from her. ‘You kept to the letter of the mystery, at least. But a waste of a loyal servant of the Gods — and for what? A slave?’
She gestured towards the cowering man and one of his guards hauled on his arm to make him stand a little higher. The slave had taken one look at the newcomer and fear took hold of him; urine was trickling pathetically down his bare legs.
‘Sister?’ Kestis said hesitantly. He too recognised the woman’s bearing as that of a superior, but from the way he was peering at her it did not marry with the markings on her scarf band.
‘Sister-Sapesien Fesh,’ she supplied without bothering to look at him. ‘Secretary to the Night Council and here to observe on their express orders.’
Thanks to Zhia’s interrogation, they recognised the different ranks of commissar; Kestis was a Tarasien, the third rank. Sapesien was the fourth rank, but few ever got that high. The difference in power was clearly enormous.
Fesh approached the cringing slave and inspected him for a few moments before turning to Isak. ‘This man is a heretic, condemned to death.’
Without any further ceremony she whipped a thin stiletto from her belt and jammed it into the man’s belly. He wheezed in shock and clutched feebly at the dagger hilt, a tiny cry of fear escaping his lips.
Fesh swatted the man’s hands away from her knife and withdrew it again with deliberate slowness. ‘Now he will die more slowly.’
With a twitch of the fingers she ordered the guards to release the slave and he collapsed to his knees, mewling pathetically. Dark blood trickled out from between his fingers and mingled with the puddle of urine on the ground while his weak cries grew increasingly piteous.
‘You want to test my compassion too?’ Isak growled, his words thick with restrained anger. The white-eye leaned forward over his horse’s head and stared intently at Fesh, while trying not to glance back at Zhia. He could sense a build-up of magic from the vampire; no doubt her Gods-imposed curse was filling her with discomfort at the man’s suffering and hunger at the slowly spilling blood.
‘I do not test,’ Fesh declared, meeting his gaze, and apparently completely unafraid, despite the fact Isak was so much larger. ‘I serve the wishes of the Night Council.’
Isak made a dismissive sound and urged his horse towards where Commissar Kestis had earlier gestured they find their lodgings. He caught Zhia’s eye as he went and called back over his shoulder, ‘Goodbye, Commissar.’
A muted crack broke the hushed night air as Zhia invisibly hastened the slave’s inevitable death, then the rest of the party followed him at a slow pace. Kestis hurried to catch up with his guests and usher them down the wide avenue leading to the heart of the city.
Commissar Fesh did not speak.
They were guided into the centre of Toristern, down a road studded with blockish, functional shrines and onto a tree-lined strip of open ground that formed a ring around a central district. Silver birches had been carefully cultivated to form screens that abruptly hid the slumbering city from view. The ground was covered in some sort of limestone gravel; it was obviously kept scrupulously clear of weeds and it shone in the pre-dawn gloom.
‘This ground is restricted to the Blessed,’ Commissar Kestis announced as he directed the party to walk down the white avenue. ‘The entire inner circle of Toristern is sacred; you will be the first outsiders to ever view this ziggurat.’
‘I hadn’t realised there was more than one,’ Isak said.
Kestis inclined his head solemnly, then looked up at the yellowed bulge of Alterr, high above them. ‘Every core settlement has a ziggurat now — none as remarkable as the Grand Ziggurat of Vanach Settlement, of course, but fitting places of worship all the same.’ He turned, his eyes suddenly bright with fervour. ‘And now you are here, come to fulfil the signs and reveal mysteries beyond those inscribed on the walls of the Grand Ziggurat — perhaps
