The Preacher nodded. 'We have no friends in the Empire of Vos, and the Faith is fast taking root in the highest levels of their leadership. This Katherine may be a woman but as Anointed Lord, she has garnered a great deal of support among the Lord Dukes. I shudder to think what favours she has granted them, but her power is undeniable. Even here, in Turnitia, we feel the weight of her growing authority. We will find no justice from the city guard.'
He reached across the table to top up Tabius' cup, though it had barely been touched. Tabius took this as a sign to drink, and he dutifully raised the cup to his lips.
'Gregor gone, you say? He will be missed in this hour of need.' The Preacher sighed as he watched his wife fussing over the stove. 'Aldene wants us to pack up and head for Pontaine. Perhaps even Allantia, she says. The Brotherhood is welcome there, she believes, or is at least not persecuted.'
This caused his wife to glance over her shoulder with a reproachful look at her husband, and he smiled fondly back at her. Tabius shifted uneasily as he witnessed the love between them speak silent volumes.
'Perhaps that would be for the best,' he ventured.
The Preacher hooted at that. 'Would you?' he asked. 'Really? Leave behind everything you have built up here for a new life? The grass is always greener, as they say but, in truth, you have sweated and worked too hard to leave behind your little empire here. I have worked just as hard, my boy. While you have amassed a small fortune in gold with your warehouses, I have become just as rich in spirit, bringing new blood into the Brotherhood and guiding those who believe to the best of my ability.'
He fell silent for a moment, and Tabius stared into his cup. 'No,' the Preacher finally said. 'I will stay and do what must be done. Our people will be scared after tonight, and will need reminding that the trials God puts before us are necessary for the salvation of all of us. Yes, even those poor misguided fools of the Faith. They have their part to play in his grand design too.'
'So, what do we do now?' Tabius asked. Though he knew, come morning, a thousand problems would be waiting for him in his growing business. The Preacher had a knack of inspiring him to always work that little bit harder for the Brotherhood. His money and connections among the merchants of Turnitia had already benefited their congregation. All the Preacher had to do was ask, and he would serve as best he could.
'We start again,' the Preacher said confidently. 'Our beliefs are strong enough to survive the cruelty of the Final Faith. No matter how many of us they threaten, bully or kill, you cannot stamp out the truth my boy. And truth is on our side. They have twisted the word of God beyond all recognition, turning it into a dream of conquest. But that is all it can be — a dream. We carry the burden of God's will Tabius, and so we cannot fail. Whatever the tests put before us, we are God's chosen. Take comfort in that.'
'As you say, Preacher.'
'Now, come morning we will have a clearer idea of what our losses are. We will need a new meeting place — you can help with that, I trust?'
Tabius thought hard. Though one of his many warehouses by the docks would be a perfect venue for their gatherings, they had avoided it up to now, as it had seemed too dangerous with agents of the Final Faith constantly looking for signs of the Brotherhood growing in the city. Still, he had several that were away from the main trading areas, and his own name was nowhere near their legal documents of possession.
'It may be possible, yes,' he said slowly, still thinking. 'I'll start making arrangements tomorrow. I might be able to have something ready by evening.'
'Please make sure you do. I must address our people by then at the latest. They will be terrified and in need of guidance. Perhaps just in need of assurance that everything will turn out the way it should.' He smiled. 'One thing is for sure, though. If we can — '
A loud crash of splintering wood resounded in the tiny kitchen. Tabius jerked in shock, looking past the Preacher to where the sound had come from.
'They're here!' cried the Preacher's wife, and she raced across to her husband to put a hand on his shoulder.
The Preacher looked at Tabius. 'Go,' he said simply.
Tabius stood immediately, as much out of habit of doing whatever the Preacher told him to do. Only then did he hesitate, looking into the man's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Preacher cut him off.
'Go! Quickly, while you still have time!'
Another crash, this time followed by a triumphant cry, and there were heavy footsteps in the hall outside the kitchen. Panic took over, and Tabius bolted through the back door, leaving the warm kitchen, the Preacher, and his wife behind. He heard shouts and a scream cut short.
Outside, a cry went up from a shadow in the alley to his right, and he dashed blindly left. Stumbling past houses on either side, he heard heavy footsteps with the chink of mail following, and fear gave him extra speed.
Behind, someone called out. 'By the law of Vos — halt!'
That only served to drive Tabius on. A gap between houses to his left beckoned, and he dove into the darkness, crashing into a barrow that had been left casually propped up against one of the walls. The noise of man and barrow clattering onto the cobbles seemed deafening to him, and he scrabbled to his feet, ignoring the sting of grazed palms and shins as he burst out into another small street. Looking to each side, he ploughed forward into another alley that ran behind the next row of houses, changing direction to head back to Meridian Street.
Breathless after several minutes of fear-filled flight, he stopped, leaning against an abandoned cart outside a provisions store. His pursuers had been outpaced for now, no doubt weighed down by their armour and weaponry. Behind, he saw an orange glow silhouetting the city's skyline, and he strained his ears to hear massed cries in the distance. Smoke rose in columns from fires near the centre of Turnitia to lazily float in a growing cloud across the face of Kerberos, the massive sphere uncaring and unchanging in the face of human misery, even on this scale. The city, he saw, was descending into riotous chaos, and fellow members of the Brotherhood, people he knew, were the target of the mob, whipped into a frenzy by the Faith.
Slowly, his mind tried to come to terms with what was happening, but the implications of the city guard openly helping the Faith to track down their rivals — or dangerous heretics, as the Brotherhood was no doubt being described — filled him with a sick, creeping dread.
Had he been recognised at the Preacher's house? Tabius thought not, his escape had been too quick, and there had been no time to see his face clearly. Then he thought of the Preacher, and what he might be forced to tell his captors. If, indeed, the man was still alive.
Though weary, he pulled himself up straight and, doing his best to ignore the riots claiming the roads, markets and homes of the city, he carried on up Meridian Street until the north gate came into view. Taking the road that ran behind the city's fortified ramparts, he turned east until the tightly packed houses gave way to much larger dwellings, with their own gardens and protective walls hiding their grounds. This district was known intimately to Tabius. It was home.
Even through his fear, despair and fatigue, he possessed enough awareness to circle his own property twice, staring into the shadows for any sign of movement or presence of the guard. There was nothing, and he guessed the guard would not permit the riots to extend to this part of Turnitia, as there were too many men of power and money living here. Such men rarely entangled themselves in religious conflicts and, living here high on the hill on which Turnitia's foundations were built, they demanded nothing less than a total separation from the common rabble.
Gingerly opening a small wooden gate in the side wall of his home's compound, he silently slipped in and, closing it behind him, he breathed a heartfelt sigh of release. For the first time that night, he was truly safe. He opened his eyes and looked at his home, a large and finely built town house that took enough space to accommodate perhaps six or seven dwellings of the type the Preacher lived in. Light radiated from several of the downstairs rooms, and Tabius suddenly yearned to see his family, to make sure they were still safe, even though he knew no harm would reach them here.
His wife whirled round as he entered. Standing in front of the roaring fireplace in the drawing room, he guessed she had been pacing fretfully until he returned. With a cry of relief, she ran into his arms and, for a moment, they just held one another.
'Arthur came by earlier,' she said once tears had been choked back. 'He said the whole city has turned against you.'
Tabius hushed her. 'We will be safe. The mob won't climb the hill. There are too many interests to protect
