'I am Unmen Eso Kass,' the priest said, hunching his shoulders as he peered up at the suzerain, 'and my question remains; against whom is the army mobilised exactly? I have not yet heard anything regarding the heretic of the Menin.' His thin lips were so bright against his skin they could have been painted.
'Just an unmen?' Lehm said, his anger momentarily blunted by surprise. 'A damn parish priest, and you presume to question the Lord of the Farlan? Get out of my sight before I have you whipped.'
Isak kept silent, knowing he shouldn't even acknowledge the insult, but he felt his hand tighten all the same.
'Kass, you go too far,' Certinse snapped at last. 'Leave us.'
'High Cardinal, this is a holy crusade; the troops must be under the command of the cults, and fighting to destroy the heretics! There is no place in a crusade for political concerns!' the unmen protested.
All around Isak there was an explosion of furious voices. Lehm was not the only one to spur his horse forward but Isak beat them all to it. Quick as a snake he drew a dagger from his belt and threw it straight. It pierced the unmen's eye and Kass's head snapped back, his jaw falling open in an expression of surprise before momentum took him out of the saddle.
The voices stopped as the corpse slid to the ground, slowly enough for Colonel Yeren, who was next to him, to reach out and pluck the knife from the wound. He ignored the blood that sprayed over his horse's flanks as he did so.
'Anyone else,' Isak began quietly, 'who suggests command of my soldiers be taken away from me will also find themselves paying the price for sedition. Is that clear?'
The arrayed clerics were still staring aghast at the twitching body with blood still pouring from the pierced eye. The High Cardinal managed a strangled whimper and a shudder that could have been intended as a nod.
Yeren, by contrast, carefully wiped clean the dagger, a broad smile on his face, as though murdering priests was a commonplace occurrence in his world. 'Perfectly clear, my Lord,' he said cheerfully, nudging his horse forwards as he held the dagger hilt-out towards Isak. 'And might I compliment you on a fine throw?'
Isak ignored the man as Jachen moved to take the dagger from the mercenary. He passed the knife to his lord.
Show them the storm, let them fear its return, he thought, recalling Lord Bahl's words to him. Following the advice was harder; it called for restraint to follow anger, and Isak's temper did not cool so easily. But it was good advice. Fully aware that they were expecting a display of the normal white-eye temper, he kept his voice level.
'Playing games with Lesarl is one thing,' he continued. 'Your ridiculous Morality Tribunals, and whatever else has gone on in Tirah recently – it has all been tolerated. But we are in a state of war now, and any challenge to my authority will receive the same treatment.
'The Farlan are at war – a war you are part of – and you need to ensure your minions understand what this entails. If they interfere with military matters, if they do not show the proper respect, they will be flogged as a soldier would. If there is organised opposition to my command, I'll slaughter the whole damn lot of you.'
In spite of himself Isak could hear the building anger in his voice and he took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax a little.
'It Yes, that is understood,' Certinse managed, adding, 'my Lord,' hurriedly. 'The recent laws are no excuse for breaches in protocol, and you remain the Chosen of my God. Unmen Kass did not speak for the cults.'
Isak inclined his head to the High Cardinal and slid his dagger back into its sheath. 'Good. I am glad we understand each Other.
'Now back to the matter at hand. I summoned you here because I shall be joining the clerics' army as quickly as possible, but tensions remain in Tirah and I wish you to return and work with the Chief Steward to ensure the smooth administration of the city.'
From the expressions on Certinse's retinue, Isak realised the ploy had worked. Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. They assumed they would be ruling the city in the absence of Isak – and his Palace Guard – but Certinse had been told exactly what powers he would have, and Lesarl was certain the High Cardinal would not overstep his bounds. It was a bit of a gamble, but Isak was sure Lesarl could handle it. And crucially, it meant the crusade would lose its most rabid of leaders, who would all be running back to the city.
'This is a letter for you to pass on to Lesarl,' he continued, motioning to Jachen, who handed Certinse a sealed envelope. 'The contents are a matter of national security; please read and re-seal it without showing anyone.'
Certinse nodded, understanding Isak's meaning well enough. The letter fully detailed their collusion, and Certinse would have to keep it from his colleagues or be forced from his position. It also concerned matters of succession in the event of Isak's death, something he would need the High Cardinal's support for, because there was no clear successor. As head of the Synod, Certinse would be able to confirm a ruler – or spark a civil war. Isak hoped Lesarl had gone into sufficient detail when he'd explained to Certinse exactly how he would be killed if he reneged on his promise.
Too much gambling for my liking, Isak thought as Certinse tucked the letter away from the keen eyes of his entourage, and not least because of my choice of heir. With the barest amount of formality, he made his goodbyes and ordered the army to continue.
The priests started off just as quickly, all pointedly ignoring the unman's body lying in the dirt. Two penitents were left to dig a grave. As he rode away, Isak realised they weren't even bothering to find a river to bury the priest of Vasle beside. In their anxiety to leave Scree behind, they contrived to forget all semblance of custom.
Scree: our memorial to forgetting who we are, he thought bitterly.
CHAPTER 28
The wind roared past Styrax as he led his army towards the Circle City. Ahead, Ismess, the southern quarter, stood out against the Land's winter livery of browns and greys. All that remained of the ancient city of the Litse was a dirty white half-circle of ancient buildings surrounded by squalid shantytowns, all huddled against Blackfang Mountain. In the centre he could just make out the only impressive part left: the enormous stepped walkway leading up to the Library of Seasons.
Lord Styrax was joined by his son and his general. They gazed upon the city as the Menin warhorses, bred huge to bear the weight of white-eye soldiers, cropped the sparse winter grass. After weeks of marching, only a few miles of windswept pastureland and the arc of a river that ran off the mountain now separated them from Ismess.
'A perfect day for a battle,' Kohrad commented. 'Wind behind us, ground dry and firm.'
Lord Styrax nodded. 'A fine day,' he agreed. 'Shame about the view, though Ismess's glory was fading even in Deverk Grast's day.'
'Can manage a lot more fading over a thousand years,' General Gaur added from his usual position on Lord Styrax's right.
The Menin lord agreed. Ismess was a dump; the whole Land would benefit if he just rode in there and burned most of it to the ground, killing their incompetent rulers on the way. The last bastion of the Litse was crippled by religion and the rule of idiots, a miserable prison for Hit's few remaining followers.
'Do you remember the intelligence report?' Styrax asked his bestial general.
Gaur gave a twitch of his shaggy head. 'About conquering Ismess? Hah! Teach me for not believing someone when they're the expert.'
Styrax smiled, causing tiny lines to appear around his eyes. Unlike most Menin white-eyes, he was a cultured man. Rather than the usual mess of wild curls prevalent in the Reavers, the white-eye regiment, his thick black hair was cut short. His face was cleanshaven and unblemished – when he had served in the regiment he had avoided the traditional facial scarring many of the Reavers sported, and his beard had always been neatly braided. His differences had sparked dozens of fights and it had taken eight deaths for them to accept his dominance.
' 'Only distaste for slaughter and vague piety prevents any of the other quarters from conquering Ismess,'' he quoted. ''While preserving the balance of power is the reason given, it is an empty argument as the benefits to all
