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Authors: James Barclay

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BOOK: Cry of the Newborn
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Jhered took the dozen polished marble steps two at a time and marched quickly through the entrance hallway, past banners flying from every column and guards snapping spears to attention as he passed. The sound of his steel-shod road boots echoed from the cavernous ceiling, sounding through the basilica. He was aware of voices falling silent.

He swung left into the audience chamber. It was crowded with the great, the good and the degenerate of the Advocate's sanctum. The Advocate herself sat on a throne placed on a stage two steps above her subjects. It was a wide seat, made for a far larger body, and boasted carved and gilded wood upholstered in the deep green of the Conquord.

She was dressed in flowing robes of state. Finest Tundarran spun wool, dazzling white and edged in green and gold with a sash of office from right shoulder to left hip. Her short dark and greying hair was threaded with gold and fronted by a tiara. She had been half-slouched on her throne, elbow on one plush arm and hand supporting her chin but she was sitting upright now, a smile creeping across her face.

Every eye was on him. He strode through the benches filled with courtiers and petitioners and into the space between the stage and the two arcs of five, high-backed chairs closest to the throne. He stopped on coming level with the Chancellor who was standing by her chair, to his right, and glaring at him. All conversation had long since ceased.

He bowed, the last ricochets of his steps fading in the timber rafters.

'My apologies, my Advocate, for my unannounced arrival.' He turned fractionally towards the Chancellor. 'Please, don't let me interrupt you.'

In front of him, the Advocate stifled a laugh, putting a hand quickly across her mouth. The Chancellor was silent for a moment.

'Then sit, Exchequer Jhered,' she said. 'I have the floor and your appearance is not further prioritised by its volume.'

'Nevertheless, it is a welcome surprise,' said the Advocate, her smooth authoritative voice a stark counterpoint to the Chancellor's heavy south-eastern accent. Jhered bowed again and took his seat to the left. He reached out a hand and squeezed that of Marshal Defender Vasselis of Caraduk whom he had not realised would be present. Finally, he nodded curtly at Marshal Defender Yuran of Atreska whom he was far less pleased to see. The man had become a serial complainer concerning a civil war he had done little to quell but which affected all the legions marching to Tsard.

However, his presence on this occasion might just be beneficial. At least he had a separate perspective on the campaigns in Tsard and might, just might if he could be persuaded to look beyond his own petty troubles for a moment, add useful insight into the problems facing Gosland and Gestern.

Chancellor Koroyan had resumed speaking. She took a rolled parchment from one of her advisers. Jhered craned his neck and saw it was the Speaker of the Earth. A heady delegation indeed.

'The fact is that in all seven of our newest outlying territories, we do not have enough strength to carry the message of the Order. Native religions flourish while my Readers, Pastors and Speakers are at best ignored, or driven from their Houses of Masks. Some have been even less fortunate and I will leave you this list for the Conquordian records of those murdered for their beliefs.'

She snapped her fingers and was handed another parchment which she unrolled.

'A few more details for you—'

The Advocate glanced briefly at Jhered who rolled his eyes.

'—Gosland's bemusing animal icon religion has resurfaced throughout the territory; Atreska's well-known allegiance to the multifarious and heretical faiths of Tsard shows no sign of diminishing; and in north-eastern Gestern, the mountain idols, statues and carvings favoured by the Kark are gathering worshippers and pilgrims by the thousand.

'Now, before all those here present protest that our Tsardon borders are bound to foster discontent and drive the misguided to seek solace in their old faiths, let me tell you that I understand that. I also understand that it strengthens my petition. And if these territories were my only challenges, I would not be standing here. Rather, I would be diverting my missionaries and few legions to the Tsardon border states myself.

'However, it seems this insurgency of bewilderingly loose and groundless faiths is growing in strength rather closer to home.' She spared Vasselis a meaningful look, which he returned unflinching. 'Among your closest allies, my Readers are ignored and obstructed in their God-given duties. And in the heartlands of the Conquord, in Avarn, Neratharn, Phaskar . . . countries steeped in centuries of Conquord glory, still there are significant numbers of citizens openly flouting the teachings of the Order.

'Only in Estorea, it seems, is God truly worshipped and respected. That is undoubtedly why here we are spared retribution and the citizens enjoy long, peaceful and productive lives before returning to the bosom of the Omniscient in triumph.'

Koroyan paused, letting her words hang in the light air of the basilica.

'My Advocate, the Conquord population expands at a rate that none of us could have foreseen even fifteen years ago. The accessions of Gosland and Atreska have stretched Order resources beyond our capacity to control as we must. And that was before the border and insurgency troubles began taking their combined tolls.

'The Conquord needs its religion to be a dominant force or all the good work of our legions will ultimately come to nothing, a result none of us desire. You are the Prime Speaker of the Order, you know this to be true. I must have more funding because I must have more people to carry the word and to bear arms against those who would strike against God and everything we hold close to our hearts.

'My papers and calculations are at your disposal for scrutiny.'

The Chancellor bowed slightly and took a single pace backwards. A ripple of conversation broke out in the public benches behind while the Advocate considered her response. Jhered frowned, concerned at what he had heard despite the Chancellor's tendency for exaggeration. Unfortunate echoes were sounding in his mind.

'Are you in Estorr for a long stay?' It was Vasselis.

Jhered turned. Vasselis regarded him with those deep, intelligent eyes, a smile welcoming his friend.

'Ten days, no more. I had not thought to see you.'

'Nor I you. You're a rare visitor these last few years.'

'There's a great deal of work to do in the east.'

Vasselis's smile broadened. 'The work of the Exchequer is ever distant and lonely.'

Jhered chuckled. 'It was me said that to you, wasn't it?'

Vasselis nodded. 'Indeed. And I would welcome the chance to hear more pearls over dinner before we both leave.'

'I wouldn't miss it.'

'Chancellor Koroyan.' The Advocate leaned forward in her throne, one hand rubbing her chin. Immediately, conversation ceased. Jhered relaxed into his chair to listen. 'I'll keep this short because I will of course study your papers at length. But I find making a judgement in your favour very difficult, your writings notwithstanding. The reasons are these.

'As the Prime Speaker of the Order, I of course want to see the word of God the Omniscient spread to the furthest corners of the Conquord. We worship the one true God and all other faiths, with their false idols and false Gods, promote false promises. So we all believe. But, as I grow rather tired of explaining, the path to enlightenment of those following rogue religions is one of education and demonstration, not of force and control.

'Surely, if you find you have to force a populace to follow the Omniscient then you have lost the argument on theological grounds, no?'

She held up a hand to cut off the Chancellor's protests. 'I have no doubt in the desire of all of the Order to preach and convert every heathen they encounter. But resistance is natural. You cannot hope to over throw centuries of faith with a few ancient words backed by sword and bow. It takes time and in the outlying territories, wounds are still fresh. They will come round. Faster when Tsard comes under the rule of the Conquord. But even then, some will never convert and we have to respect them. Chancellor Koroyan, we
have
to respect them. They are simply non-believers and theirs will be a short, single cycle on God's earth where we renew to deliver more glories.

'Seek to understand them, not suppress them or you will create those you hate with your own hand. I find it almost impossible to see that I will release funds from the treasury to help you build your already considerable armies. Surely they are enough to police the word of God among those who swear by it and to protect those missionaries beyond our borders.

'If, and I say if, I was to agree to more funding, it could only be to recruit and educate more Readers, Pastors and Speakers. For the building of more Houses of Masks. There is where your true strength should lie. Perhaps you should consider how your budget is currently allocated. Or perhaps you would like an independent audit, to see what, if anything, is being wasted in your name.'

She gestured at Jhered then, and the Gatherer's Exchequer could not hide his smile. The Chancellor's face was stone while the Advocate's remained deliberately neutral.

'I believe that the word of God must come from the mouths of believers, not the weapons of its defenders. I will read your entreaty and my final decision will be with you tomorrow by nightfall.'

The Chancellor shook her head, bowed and spun to leave the basilica, her cohort at her back. The Advocate watched her go, worry in her expression and the chewing of her teeth at her top lip.

'Now, on to other matters,' she said. 'There is a petition list as long as my daughter's hair and evening approaches.'

Chapter 13

847th cycle of God, 10th day of
Dusasrise

14th year of the true Ascendancy

Herine Del Aglios, Advocate, Prime Speaker and mother of four, linked her arm through Paul Jhered's once the palace doors had closed behind them. At sixty-seven she was moving gracefully into middle age and presided over a Conquord she was determined to settle before handing the reins to Roberto, her eldest.

She slowed the pace of the tall soldier to little more than an amble, determining to enjoy a private stroll with him through her gardens and courtyards, columns and statues. Her guards, advisers and current consort had all been dismissed.

'If we go any slower we'll grind to a halt,' grumbled Jhered.

'You would march me to an early return to the earth,' said Herine. 'Relax. Enjoy my house. Look.'

She stopped him and gestured with her free hand. The garden might have been cold and lacking in the glorious colours of a late genasfall day, but even in its stark dusas livery it was stunning amid the hundreds of lantern-lights that pushed away the night. They nestled in the crooks of the arms of statues, shone through glass panes set into the bases of fountains, littered the flower beds and swung gently from poles set at head height.

It gave the colonnaded open space a dreamlike quality, turned it into a sanctuary from the noise and confusion of state. A day in the basilica left Herine shattered, however much she enjoyed the cut and thrust of debate, and despite the value she gained from hearing both the ordinary citizen and the senior statesperson.

Jhered's arrival that afternoon had been a genuine blessing, offering her intelligent company
and conversation in addition to
first-hand, unbiased news from the outer territories. Sometimes she felt as if she existed in a cocoon. Jhered was a breath of fresh air.

'It is one of my favourite places in the entirety of the Conquord, my Advocate,' conceded Jhered.

'Oh, listen to you, Paul,' said Herine. 'Ever the formal soldier. We're on our own here.'

Jhered smiled. 'Authority and respect are cornerstones of our government, Herine. Sorry. Sometimes I find it difficult to revert even when I'm with friends.'

'And am I your friend?' asked Herine.

Jhered looked down at her, frowning. He really was a tall man, very imposing. Striking rather than handsome. But at a full sixteen inches taller than her, he quite literally towered above her.

'Never doubt it,' he said. 'You are one of the few I would term such. So few really have the Conquord scored into their hearts, even some of those you hold dear.'

Herine felt the gentle stab and whistled breath in over her teeth. 'Do I detect a rebuke?'

'You know how I view those who close around you, day by day, and in that, if in nothing else, I am in agreement with the Chancellor. They do not see what we see, merely the riches that your position brings. If I were one of them, I would not seek to ripple the water either.'

Herine tugged at his arm. 'You'd have been unafraid. I still say you should have agreed to be a consort. Father a child of mine.'
‘I
value my balls far too much for that.' They both laughed aloud.

'You think it would have affected your career in later years?' she asked mischievously.

'The perfect physical specimen you see before you would be a slothful, overweight buffoon wearing gay coloured clothes and trapped in the backwater palace in Phaskar, as you well know. It is as well none of your children will ever know their fathers.'

‘I
might have taken you as my husband. I have always preferred younger men.' She knew she shouldn't feel a thrill at the flirting but she couldn't help it. How wonderful to shed the shackles of state and be a woman for a moment.

'You know why you can never do that,' said Jhered, not catching her mood.

'It does no harm to dream,' she said.

'Is it something you wish for?' asked Jhered.

'Would it be a sign of weakness if I said yes?' she countered, a well of loneliness threatening to open up.

'It is never weakness to yearn for love and companionship. It is human to desire one person to share your life.'

'But we have both chosen paths that deny us fulfilment of that desire.'

'Until we retire at least. And all we can do until then is protect the right for every citizen of the Conquord.'

She tugged his arm again. 'You should be at the oratory, saying things like that. Come on. It may be beautiful out here but it's also cold and you haven't come here merely to swap pleasantries and explain the value of avoiding castration. Take wine with me.'

They strolled through the colonnades, Herine glancing up to see the fine ionic scrollwork lit by lantern as they passed. She often wondered who had taken the chisel and hammer to these great pieces of stone. She loved the artistry and the imagination that had resulted in these columns, so often taken for granted, merely seen as the masonry that supported the roof above their heads.

It was a short walk to a warm private dining room, luxuriously furnished, hung with tapestries and with rugs covering the mosaic floor under which the hot air thrummed gently through the foundations. Herine pointed Jhered to a long leather recliner, studded in bronze and with green and gold feather cushions scattered along it. She took one at right angles to him such that their heads were close together. When the servant had poured the first glasses of warm, spiced wine, she indicated that the girl withdraw. The door closed behind her. Herine wafted a hand at the table.

'Meats, breads and a particularly good honey and herb sauce. My eldest brought back the recipe from campaign ten years ago. Such a young boy then in so many ways, my Roberto.'

'And a very capable general now,' said Jhered.
‘I
hear fine reports of him from Tsard.'

'A difficult campaign,' said Herine.

'It was always going to be so,' said Jhered. 'A large and proud country. Very fierce, very independent.'

'And they will make a fine addition to the Conquord in the years to come. Fantastic wealth there. Extraordinary resources and a hard-working citizenry. Just think. Taking Tsard will open up the entire east to us by land and sea. What an opportunity.'

'Have you given thought to your consuls for the area?' asked Jhered. 'It will be a challenge unlike any other.'

'And one where the Tsardon must know our respect for them. I had thought members of the family would be the right candidates.'

'Wise as always, as long as you can keep the jealousies of your more senior generals under control. And the Order.'

Herine bridled a little. 'That's my job, Paul. Now, tell me about yours. What's taxing you, if you'll pardon the expression.'

Jhered took a long sip of his wine and raised his eyebrows, pleased at the taste.

'Do you mind if I ask one question before I begin?'

'Of course not.' Herine settled back, cradling her warm glass and letting the scent float into her nostrils.

'What is the detail of the reports you receive from the Tsardon campaigns?'

Herine blew out her cheeks and tried quickly to recall some figures. 'I have twenty legions and sixteen alae in Tsard, operating on three separate fronts. Almost a hundred and twenty thousand men and women fighting for the Conquord over two thousand miles away. With the campaigns suspended for the cold season, and I understand dusas to be harsh in Tsard this year, I am getting the reports I need to assess requirements for more forces and equipment. I seldom feel the need to ask for more and the distance makes that difficult anyway. During the campaign season reports can be a little more fragmentary.'

She frowned suddenly, a frission of anxiety across her body. 'Why do you ask?'

'And what about from behind the forward legions. From the supply chain and the border fortifications?' Jhered was pressing her for information and she didn't like the way it felt.

'Is there something I'm not hearing? I take a dim view of being kept in the dark.'

Herine saw Jhered regarding her carefully, weighing up her mood. He knew her quick and dangerous temper. It was a testament to him that he was unafraid. Nor should he be. She needed a hundred Jhereds. A thousand. God-embrace-her but she had missed him.

'My Advocate, Herine. I hear things and I see things. Indeed, people are very keen for me to see anything that might reduce their tax burden. But of late I've been feeling uneasy. Not everything I see and hear can be ignored as the bleatings of the greedy wishing to keep their wealth from being used for the good of the Conquord.'

‘I
hear these things too, Paul. I've been hearing them for forty-two years, ever since I achieved the Advocacy. Why are you uneasy now? We are wealthier and more successful than we have ever been. The Conquord remains a triumph.'

'Now who should be at the oratory?' Jhered smiled.

Herine felt some of the heat leave her face. She drank her wine, feeling a slight shake in her hands.

‘I
believe in what we achieve.'

'It is why you are Advocate and I love you and serve you. Please, Herine, if I didn't share your determination and belief I could not do the job you have asked me to do.'

‘I
am not questioning you.'

Jhered raised a hand.
‘I
know, I know. And I know you hear pleas and hard-luck stories every day you are in the basilica. I appreciate you're sick to the stomach of it all. But if I may, I think perhaps you never hear an account that might link apparently independent incidents together.'

'You mean yours.' Jhered inclined his head. 'You know I'll listen to you, Paul. But please, let's eat first and talk about something a little lighter. I'm famished and that sauce is cooling. It would be a shame to let it spoil.'

'So it would. And Herine, what I have to say does include some conjecture of course but it is honestly given - and more important, we do not face a crisis. Not yet. So long as we act soon.'

They ate largely in silence as it happened. Jhered admitted the sauce was excellent. It was only towards the end of the meal, when again the servants had been told to withdraw, that Jhered opened up just a little. He was holding the same goblet of wine when the briefest of smiles touched his lips.

'Oh, I have a new candidate for most ridiculous attempt to avoid tax levy. This is a good one, I promise.'

'You know I need new stories for banquets,' she said, gesturing for him to continue and relaxing back into her recliner.

'As you know I've just returned with the revenue chests from Gosland via Atreska and Gestern. One of my people got suspicious about the reasons for a very low returned levy from a farming community on the south-eastern border with Tsard. Menas, her name is. Very capable. She'll end up in Atreska or some other trouble spot, I expect. I sent her and a team of six out there, it was only a two-day ride and good experience. It goes like this.' He sat up, swinging his feet on to the floor so he could use both arms for emphasis.

'It's a settlement called Ruthirin. Small place, about two hundred people. All farmers, mostly goat and cattle. The team arrive there, the snow is six inches deep and there's an icy gale blowing through the valley. They are shown damage to properties, some smashed pottery and largely empty fields. The story is, they've suffered a Tsardon raid for livestock. But it just doesn't feel right. They see a few half-hearted bandages but no one looks hurt. No one looks shocked. But the fact is that the livestock is gone and we know from connecting settlements that there has been no sudden surge in trade. So . . .'

'They've hidden them of course. Forest or next-door valley, right?' Herine was warming to the tale. Jhered never embellished these stories but he painted a vivid enough picture nonetheless. Herine could see the citizens shifting uncomfortably and looking at their feet under questioning.

'Almost,' said Jhered, holding up a finger. 'But it's far more stupid than that. Beggars belief.' He paused to shake his head, apparently having to remind himself that what he said was true. 'The team rode out to any likely holding place. They found caves, valleys and forest land but no sign at all - and there would have been. There should have been a mess of hoof prints in the snow but there was nothing.'

'And of course, that was their downfall.'

'Absolutely. They said it proved the livestock had been taken but when the team asked to see the exit trails, it all started falling apart. They'd made some small effort but a one-day trained tracker could have seen through it.' He smiled. 'Want to know what they'd done?'

'Immediately.'

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