Narkang – the disputed lands between two avaricious rulers were preferable to the wilful madness of folk living according to scripture.
'The presence of those creatures pollutes this holy place.' The major kept his head low as he spoke.
Isak couldn't tell whether he was repeating by rote or trying to hide his disgust. Free spirits like the gentry were considered blasphemous and unclean by the Devoted. Isak couldn't help wondering why the Gods themselves did nothing to stop them if this was such an obscenity.
'Gods, look at them,' breathed Carel in wonder. For a moment Isak looked around, thinking the gentry had come out into the open, then he realised Carel was staring at the huge weathered standing stones past the trees: roughly hewn blocks of moss-speckled granite. The forbidding stones looked almost dull in the moonlight. All but one of the outer circle were still standing erect, towering ten feet or more into the sky. Thick trails of ivy snaked up their sides, somehow reaching from one stone to the next until it crowned the forgotten temple. The ivy looked black and sinister; Arian's light seemed to slip off its waxy surface and down on to the twigs and acorns that littered the ground. It illuminated two yards of ground inside the ring before the second circle of standing stones, half the height of the outer ring, rose to cast yet more shadows.
The outer stones are called 'the Soldiers'. The inner ring stones are 'the Priests'.'
Isak nodded absentmindedly at Mihn's words, scanning the copse until he could make out four men in the centre. Again, they were trying to appear relaxed and non-threatening. It made Isak's palms itch.
The soldiers are supposed to have murdered the priests during a ritual,' Mihn continued quietly. They waited for them to fall into a trance before creeping up and slitting their throats. They were supposed to be protecting the priests. There is disagreement about whether this was a just act or not, but murder certainly took place here.'
'And Belarannar turned them all to stone?'
'No, the soldiers escaped.'
'And the act was justified.' The major's voice was fierce as he glared at Mihn, his hand hovering close to his blade. He had turned back to find his charges. The monks were consorting with daemons, using human sacrifices in the most evil of rituals. The soldiers were men hired to protect the monastery, but they could not ignore the truth. They founded our Order to continue the struggle against the enemies of the Gods. These stones remind my Order of our origins.'
Mihn didn't reply, but dipped his head to acknowledge the major's words.
'Penitence is a wonderful thing,' declared Isak. He caught Vesna's eye and forced a smirk. The count smiled in return. Major Ortof-Greyl kept his mouth firmly shut and endured the jibe silently.
Isak climbed down off his horse and entered the copse on foot. He could feel the weight of Arian's gaze lift from his shoulders – perhaps he was happier here in the shadows. The gentry, spirits that were usu-ally seen only at twilight, when the Gods rested, had accepted him as a brother. What about the other creatures of shadow? Would Azaer now see him as kin or foe?
'You're worried about that, aren't you?' Isak hadn't meant to speak aloud, but it was quietly done and Mihn was the only one close enough to hear. Still, he kept quiet as he continued to speak in his head,
He didn't know how to answer these questions, but they lingered, for if forces on both sides had affected his life, there would be darkness in his soul as well as light. Deep inside, he recognised the truth in that.
Moving through the trees, touching the trailing ivy as he went Isak felt the temple, slumbering. The ground was still consecrated' whatever had happened here: it was still special to a Goddess of the Upper Circle and there would always be an echo of her presence there.
And all around, Isak could feel the gentry stirring, leaning gently with the wind as they stood as patiently as the grass. It was only when they moved that he could feel them at all; unlike humans, there was no resonance of their presence so they just faded into the background of wood and earth, leaving a faint air of expectation, like scent on the breeze. He envied them that, the peace of being so completely a part of the Land that they could just step back into it and disappear.
'Lord Isak,' called someone from the heart of the temple in precise, educated Farlan. A portly older man stepped out through the inner circle to meet them, moving like a man many summers younger. As he neared, Isak could see he was a general.
'My Lord, I am Jebel Gort,' the man said, a dazed smile on his face. It took Isak a moment to realise that this general of sixty or more summers was slightly awestruck.
'And them?' Isak gestured to the three other men, who had not moved. Two, though looking well into middle age, were obviously fit and strong; they wore swords at their hips. One man was of western stock, with a wide nose and sloping forehead; Isak suspected he was from Vanach. The other was Chetse – though he looked strange with short hair and a rapier at his waist. The only Chetse Isak had met was one of the wildest of their kind; this man looked like a doll in comparison. The third man was younger, a tall, hard-faced individual who might have been from Narkang. He stood a little further back.
These are General Diolis, General Chotech in the middle, with Major Irien back there,' General Gort said. 'Major Ortof-Greyl has explained that we are not here as officials of our Order.'
'He told me something that I didn't believe,' Isak said, 'but you didn't bring any mages with you, and I think the gentry would have dealt with any army-'
The gentry?' the general cut in. 'So that's what's been making such an infernal racket at night.'
They were probably arguing about how they wanted to kill you. In any case, I've been brought to a strange place that I don't much care for; to meet people I care much less for, for a reason I don't believe, and on my birthday. Consider me annoyed and get to the fucking
point.'
The general's face was in shadow so Isak couldn't see his reaction, but his reply was certainly measured. 'Very well, my Lord. Our group is small, restricted to men we can trust to pursue the true aims of the Order. The Knight-Cardinal is certainly not one of those – he doesn't care much about the death of his nephew, but it gives him a pretext to want your head. He has aspirations to be the Saviour, and he positively drools at the thought of your weapons. The other members of the Council are growing tired of his megalomania. Two Councillors are expected to retire this year and when that happens, it is almost certain that General Diolis and General Chotech will take their places. That gives me the majority I need to have the Knight-Cardinal replaced, and when I do so we can begin the process of reminding power brokers like Telith Vener and Afasin just what our Order's strength should be used for.'
'So this is a coup, dressed up in doctrine.'
The man shrugged. 'What we do today will, I am certain, demonstrate that we do not lust for the power.' Without giving Isak time to reply the general stepped forward and knelt before Isak. The other three moved quickly to follow suit, Major Ortof-Greyl stepping swiftly past Isak to kneel behind his superiors.
Isak looked at his companions in bemusement. They said nothing. Vesna was smiling as if it was all just a joke. Carel, Mihn and Tila just
looked puzzled.
'Lord Isak. Here, in our most sacred temple, we pledge ourselves to your name and banner, to perform those tasks the Gods will require of you as their Saviour. I swear to take control of the Knights of the Temples only to serve your will, and the will of the Gods. When it is needed, I shall provide you with the army of Devoted soldiers spoken of in the prophecies. To prove our faith, we have brought you gifts to aid you in the Age to come.'
The major jumped up and ran to a flat altar-stone in the centre of the temple. Isak had hardly noticed the brass-bound box. It was no more than a foot across, but the major picked it up reverentially. He returned with the box held out before him, his arms tense, as if the weight of the box was nearly too great for him. The general
