Abruptly, three hidden doors burst open, admitting armed men into the room. They all wore simple black jerkins and leather armour and the linked-circle tattoos on most of them were clearly visible. Kell swept the bed sheets away from himself and over Gabriella's head, blinding her and confining her.
Boots and fists thudded into her back and limbs and head, and hands stripped away her weapons. Then the sheet was removed again. Kell hopped out bed and revealed that he was wearing trews and boots.
'Did you really think I could be tracked so easily, without knowing who was following? Did you really think I don't have scryers watching my own home and wards in the corridors? I was worried I wouldn't get back to this room in time for you to find me in it.'
There were six men around her, but they carried cudgels and maces in their hands rather than blades. 'While you've got me at a disadvantage, I don't suppose you're in the mood to tell me a few things?'
'No.' He nodded to the Brotherhood guards. 'Find a nice high terrace and throw her off.'
Several pairs of hands reached for her and that was their mistake. Gabriella grabbed one man's wrist and pivoted, throwing him into Kell even as she snatched the mace from his hand. She used the opposing force from the move to back-kick a second guard in the gut and crack a third man's cheek open with a mace.
She spun on the balls of her feet, kicking high and slashing back-handedly with the mace. In a few heartbeats, all six men were down and she dove for her own pair of swords.
When she rose, ready to go after Kell, he had a sword-point to her throat. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you.' He lifted the sword that had been in his hand all along and motioned her towards the door through which she had entered. He stepped beside her, keeping the point at her throat. 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut short our visit.'
He opened his mouth to say something else, but no sound came as Travis Crowe, standing in the doorway, said: 'Hello Kell' and stepped through. He put his sword to Kell's throat and hesitated, looking between Kell and Gabriella. Gabriella felt a wave of triumph wash over her and not just relief.
'It seems I have you at a disadvantage.' She pushed the point of Kell's sword away and put her own blade to his throat. 'Now, about — '
Stars exploded in her vision and her sword flew across the room. Crowe stepped smartly across, shaking the hand with which he had hit her and planted his foot on her sword. He levelled the tip of his blade towards her. Behind him, Kell spoke.
'I'm afraid, Sister DeZantez, that things are a little more complex than you thought. Your friend Crowe here is not only
'Sorry, God-girl,' Crowe said.
'Kill her,' Kell told him.
Crowe drew back his sword-arm ready for the fatal thrust and Gabriella steeled herself. She refused to close her eyes. If she was to go to the clouds to join Erak, she would go proudly. Crowe hesitated.
'One thing about Dez. She likes to think she's smart. Likes to think she knows it all and had it figured out. I like to think she needs to know she's not as smart, and I wouldn't mind seeing her face when she hears how different the truth is from what she thinks it is. When she knows what you're doing here.'
Kell gave him a weary sidelong glance. 'Well… I've been keeping track of your progress from Solnos — and, may I say, congratulations on dealing with the goblins. They've been the bane of my flock, as well as yours, for some time.'
'If they were the bane on your flock, they were a bane you set on them when you — '
'Kicked them out of here, yes.'
'That can't have been easy.'
'A simple matter, actually,' Kell said pleasantly. 'Troops drawn from Lord Aristide's regiment at Fayence, some very good magicians and the promise of better pickings further north. The goblins are not as stupid as they sometimes seem, but they have sensitive spots, as do humans.'
'Why here? Why not Freiport?'
'Freiport already has a means of governance. And, sadly, an ideal of freedom?'
'And this place's name is a lie.' It didn't surprise her.
Kell helped himself to a goblet of brandy from the bedside cabinet. 'What makes the Final Faith so strong?'
'Our Faith in the Lord and his faith in us,' Gabriella said automatically.
He shook his head with a smile. 'I prefer to think it's the centralised chain of command. You'll have to forgive me for my tendency to think in military terms, but I've been a soldier for a long time, and one thing I've always found most vital is to respect the chain of command.' He sipped from his goblet and Gabriella longed to smash it into his face. 'For many years, the Brotherhood has been organised in cells, hiding in the shadows. It lacks a central focus. It lacks a chain of command.'
Gabriella understood at once. 'It lacks an Anointed Lord.'
'Or similar figure,' Kell allowed. 'Or at least it did, until now. Scarra is gone, Feyn is gone, who's left to lead the Brotherhood in Western Pontaine?' He grinned. 'Oh, it's me.'
'Those people out there won't take kindly to that idea.' She hoped she sounded more certain of that idea than she felt.
'No? I think otherwise, Sister DeZantez. I'm their saviour. I brought them to a better life with no authoritarian interference. Oh, I make suggestions and give advice, and it's always gratefully received. In return they get… treats.'
'Like pets performing tricks.'
'A training regimen is a training regimen. And they love it because they feel loved by me. So they come and the men see training going on and they're invited to try it. And they do. And they do well. When the Brotherhood rises, supported by a central leader, they will have their own Knights, their own soldiers. It'll take years, to be sure, but this place is cut off from the world.' He came over and leaned in close, so she could smell the brandy he just drank. 'I have as many years as I like.'
'It was lucky, finding this place.'
'A Faith messenger between Turnitia and Scholten happened to get drunk in the wrong tavern and let slip that he was carrying some interesting documents…'
'The ships' logbooks?' Crowe said. Kell frowned for a moment, then nodded. 'And copies of the records of Wyngarde and his Glass Mountain, all on their way to Scholten.'
'You also hired an assassin.' Gabriella said.
'Which one?' Kell said.
'To kill Eminence Rhodon.'
'Oh, that one.' He spread his hands. 'What can I say…?'
'Something truthful would be nice,' she suggested.
'Quite so, Sister DeZantez. You are correct. I did engage a man called Lukas Bertam to assassinate an Eminence at the wedding of vom Kalten's boy. But you already know that.'
'I know about him and I know he died beforehand, and the shot was made by Joachim Foll.'
'Foll?' Kell nodded to himself. 'You don't happen to know who hired him?'
Gabriella didn't know, but she had an idea. It was one she didn't want to believe, but she didn't have to believe it. She just had to distract Kell with it. 'Would you believe me if I said Rodrigo Kesar?'
Kell blanched. 'You're — No?' He blinked several times. 'But why…?' He turned to Crowe. 'Anyway, enough chit chat. Be at one with the Lord of All, with my blessing.'
Nothing happened. Kell frowned. 'Crowe? You are the man Feyn hired for me, remember? Kill her.'
Travis Crowe could feel the sword in his hand and imagined it penetrating flesh as it had so many times, but he found himself unable to move towards Gabriella. A sibilant voice hissed 'Protect' in his ear, except that there was no-one there to have said it.
That voice wasn't the loudest one he could hear, though. Kell's own voice held that honour, but it was Kell's voice from a short while ago. Kell's voice proclaiming his ambition to be a religious leader. Kell's voice admitting to tricking the people here into being his soldiers and slaves.
Or was it his father's voice?
'Protect.'
