the Final Faith here in Kalten.'
'Morality offences?'
'The consumption of hard liquor in a region where it's prohibited by Ducal law, for starters. Which I'll admit is a technicality. Attacking an Enlightened One of the Final Faith is a much graver charge.'
Gabriella could barely keep her voice from shaking; she hadn't had time to really assimilate what had happened at the castle. She wasn't sure whether she should be angry or shocked, and settled for both.
'On your feet. We'll talk about extending the charge to cover the shot at Eminence Rhodon when we get back to the castle.'
'The shot.' What else could she say? She didn't even know whether the Eminence was still alive, let alone whether this prisoner was responsible.
'Let's not. Kill me and be done with it!'
'For someone who just tried so hard to get out alive, you're suddenly very keen to die. Conscience troubling you? I think you might benefit from a nice long chat with our Confessors. Come on.'
'You must be joking, bitch!'
With that, he lashed out with his legs, sweeping her feet out from under her. She crashed to the floor next to him, and he reacted immediately by wrapping his ankles around her throat, and trying to twist her head. Her neck exploded into fire, and agony flared between her collarbone and her ears. She grabbed desperately at his legs, trying to pry them away. It was like trying to bend solid iron bars.
With a roar, Gabriella drew one sword and slashed at the outside of his right thigh, keeping clear of the artery, and cutting across muscle. The man screamed and his legs loosened.
'Do I look like I'm joking?' Gabriella gasped.
Lightning-quick, he slammed his foot into her head, and her blade clattered away as she slid backwards across the floor.
Gabriella could see the pain explode in the fugitive's eyes as he bounced back onto his feet, but his wounds didn't stop him rolling for her fallen sword.
She lunged for him then, drawing her other sword, but he batted her blade aside with his and head-butted her. She fell back, dropping the sword.
He twirled the blade theatrically as he stood over her.
'This one's with love from the Brotherhood. Give their regards to Ludwig Rhodon when you see him in Kerberos!'
A flying white blur suddenly crashed into Gabriella's assailant from behind and she rolled to her feet as metal clanged beside her. When she had risen, the man's head was staring up at her. His body was still falling, next to a new figure. It was Erak Brand.
Gabriella shivered, and grasped his forearm tightly. Beyond him, six more Knights entered, as did a matronly woman in the white cloak of a Confessor.
'You're a hard girl to find, even after Markus reported you were heading this way.' Erak said.
'What… what did you do that for?' she said, gesturing at the corpse.
'He was going to kill you!'
'He was going to try!' Gabriella protested.
'He might have succeeded.'
She went over to the headless body and began searching through its clothes for anything that might identify the fugitive.
'Are you saying you go easy on me in sparring?' Gabriella said. 'This man wasn't as good as you, and might I remind you who won our last bout?'
'I'm saying it doesn't matter how good a fighter is,' Erak said. 'You can always have a bad day. Everybody has some bad luck from time to time, and if it's when you're fighting for your life… The enemy only needs to be lucky once.'
The Confessor prodded the headless corpse with the sole of her sandal. 'Well, if this was the man who shot Eminence Rhodon, he was lucky.'
Gabriella looked up at her, feeling a terrible sickening sensation.
'Did the Eminence — ?'
The Confessor shook her head. 'I don't know about that. I mean this one died quickly. Lucky for him. I don't suppose he said anything before he left us for the pits?'
Gabriella shook her head. 'Just best wishes from the Brotherhood.'
Confessor Kamil didn't look very surprised. 'Well, if he is the one who shot at Rhodon, I'd expect a Brotherhood link. Unless, of course it's a political game and he's from one of the Pontaine cities, trying to stir up trouble.' She glared at Gabriella and Erak. 'It would have been nice if you'd left him in a fit state to tell us.' She sighed. 'Still, perhaps the body will tell us something.'
'Let's hope,' Gabriella agreed.
CHAPTER 4
Mud spattered up from under hoof as a column of riders passed down a trail at speed. The bridleway was wide, the silver birches set far enough back that no-one need fear being pitched from their mount by a stray branch. The horses were a motley bunch of breeds and colours, and all but one of the riders wore shields strapped to their backs and iron helms, tinted to the shade of blood by the sun.
As the valley widened, and threads of smoke became visible rising from below, a second group of hooded riders waited in a village so small it didn't even have a name. A farm at each end was separated by a few stone cottages and wattle fences. A river of churned mud running parallel to the fencing passed for a road through fields frosted white. A forested ridgeline on the horizon separated the countryside from the cliffs of Kalten. The two groups met in the middle of the village and one man from each side dismounted to meet the other.
'Scarra,' Goran Kell said. He carried himself like a soldier, or a noble, and despaired of the slouching fat man. Scarra was far from ascetic, and far from a fighter, but his family was rich, and that made him useful.
'Everything is prepared, Kell. Our man knows what he has to do. There's backup to cover his escape.'
Kell smiled mirthlessly. 'There's been a change of plan.' He beckoned to a tired-looking youth who was waiting in his entourage, on a tired-looking horse. The youth trotted forward. 'Tell Scarra what you've just told me.'
'Ludwig Rhodon was shot not an hour ago.'
'Excellent news!' Scarra exclaimed. 'You know, my boy, I have had my doubts about this scheme, but it's a great relief to know that it was merely needless worry.' A frown crossed his face. 'Actually, isn't it a little early? I thought it was supposed to happen at the feast.'
'Oddly enough,' Kell said calmly, 'I thought that too. I know that, and you know that. But it would have been nice if you'd made absolutely certain that Lukas knew that as well.'
'He knew! Of course he knew the plan!'
Kell's expression didn't change. 'Someone didn't. So I'm changing the follow-up, just in case. We can't remain in this area. The Swords of Dawn are scouring all of Kalten. I suggest you find a safe territory for a few days. That's certainly what I shall be doing.'
Scarra stiffened. 'You can't just leave like this!'
Kell raised an eyebrow. 'You'd prefer if I stayed here, got caught, and told the Confessors where to find you?'
'We should — '
'We should leave and neither of us should tell the other where he's going.' With that, Goran Kell returned to his horse and rode away, his entourage falling in behind him.
Karel Scarra suddenly felt very cold and alone. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be rising among his peers, basking in the glow of history.
He turned and walked back to his retinue. The waiting mercenaries wore tabards bearing a red dagger. By
