The Fall of Ossard (19 page)

“And this truth?”

His tone softened as he took a step forward so only Sef, Pedro, and I could hear. Gently, like a father, he said, “There are countless factions at work in this city, and they all want power. Across all of them there is only one thing that they fear.”

“What?” I asked.

“You.”

8

The Inquisition’s Answer

Anton and I took the stairs to the third level, heading for the balcony that ran the length of the Malnobla’s front. We followed Lord Liberigo, the Benefice, Pedro, Sef, and Kurgar. Word had come via an attendant; the crowd was demanding to see the Inquisitor.

Maria and Lady Liberigo were waiting for us in the ballroom that opened onto the balcony, accompanied by two men at arms. Before we reached them we could hear the crowd’s rumble.

The Inquisitor said, “The Lord and Lady will step out first to address the crowd and introduce me. Benefice Vassini will accompany them, but shall not speak.”

Vassini looked affronted.

Anton ignored him. “I will follow with Pedro and Juvela.” He then turned to face Kurgar and Sef. “You two shall stay here and well back from the doors, we don’t want to confuse our message with too many faces.”

Too many
Flet
faces…

Pedro said, “I’ll bring our daughter.”

“Yes, of course.” Anton paused before continuing, “Once out there, I’ll undo the damage caused by the fraudulent Heletite, and offer the people some reassurance. That will be all.”

The square spread as a sea of scared faces with thousands upon thousands holding branches of oleander in the air. Clearly those preaching the word of the
Protector of Children
had been busy.

The crowd hushed at the sight of their Lord and Lady, not so much out of respect, but because they wanted answers. The silence was short-lived. When Benefice Vassini came into view many began to shake their oleander in anger and boo.

A lone voice yelled, “Remember Saint Santana’s martyr!” And thousands of voices sounded in agreement.

Lord Liberigo let the crowd settle while the dusk sky grumbled in its own disquiet. A thunderstorm had come rolling across the heavens bringing with it a whipping wind.

The Inquisitor and I waited for our turn, watching from a window by the doors. Pedro stood with us and held Maria. Sef and Kurgar watched from another window where they’d been exiled to a far corner.

The air grew tense, suddenly cooling.

Anton closed his eyes for a brief prayer, before opening them to ask, “Did you feel that?”

And I did.

Outside, a growing vortex of power made the air prickle as it hung over the city. “What is it?”

“Take a
look
.”

I relaxed as the room before me sprang into clarity. I looked further, my view fading into the hues of blues and blacks while the soul-lights of those around me flared. My perception shifted as I swung it about.

Market Square spread as a blinding sea of life-lights, but above it all swirled a dim blue whirlpool of gathering power. At the heart of that disturbance lay a huge circle, as wide as a warship is long, and within lay a stunning cobalt-blue iris that was split by a sharp edged pupil. It was an eye.

My soul felt brittle.

Only one thing could be so big and make me feel so small.

It was a god!

I lost my concentration and fell back into normal vision. The shock of it left me weak with my legs buckling to send me slumping against the wall.

Anton moved to my side, but not to help. “See, he’s sensed the beacon and now comes for Ossard!”

Pedro paled and took a step back.

I cursed; I’d just let him see me look into another world. Turning to him, I reached out with a hand and begged, “Please, Pedro…”

Anton laughed.

Pedro flinched at my reaching hand, but stilled himself at Anton’s mirth. He composed himself as he stood there. He didn’t take my hand, or step closer, but neither did he step any further away.

Outside on the balcony, Lord Liberigo addressed the crowd, “People of Ossard, it is true that the kidnappings threaten to spiral out of control, that they are linked to ritual magic, and that last night the city watch discovered the bodies of many victims.

“My people, we of the city are working hard to get answers, and each new answer brings us closer to the guilty!

“Still, it is such a diabolical thing, that we’ve felt it wise to accept the offered aid of the Inquisition. The Black Fleet is currently moored in distant Lucera, but has heard our cry and dispatched a ship. That ship, the blessed
Ba-Mora,
has arrived this very day. I present to you Inquisitor Anton, their mission’s leader.”

Anton grabbed my hand and led me onto the balcony.

People generously applauded the Inquisitor, but a cheer erupted as they laid eyes on me. Some in the crowd yelled, “The Lady of the Saint!” It didn’t take long for those calls to fall into a chant, “Lady of the Saint! Lady of the Saint! Lady of the Saint!”

The Inquisitor stood before them with me at his side, while Pedro followed but kept a couple of steps back with Maria.

My husband watched me with questions in his eyes. He loved his daughter, loved her more than life itself, and not so long ago a seed of love had begun to sprout between us despite the barren soil of our marriage. That poor love, a union that had waited so long to take, still seemed determined to struggle on.

Briefly our eyes met.

I offered him a smile to try and reassure him.

His tense face relaxed, but he couldn’t hold my gaze.

Maria also looked to me.

I called to her, “Be good, Maria, be good for your father.”

She smiled and then nuzzled into his chest.

He again met my gaze and this time held it. There was hope there, in his beautiful brown eyes - but also so much pain.

The noise of the crowd faded, but Inquisitor Anton waited for silence. Finally he addressed them, “People of Ossard, you live in grave times, the gravest, but know that I have come to put things right!

“You think the kidnappings are out of control, but they aren’t. It’s your faith that’s run amuck!

“What kind of city allows its people to grow so lax? What kind of people accepts it becoming so? Your home might be rich in coin, but it’s a pauper of devotion!

A lone voice yelled, “Saint Santana will save us!”

The Inquisitor’s face grew sharp with rage. “You have been deceived, there is no such saint! She is nothing but a fraud and vile heresy!

“It is the weak-willed and feeble-minded who are prepared to adopt a new saint on a whim that have allowed the cults to gain a foothold in your city. You have been fooled by the very people who are stealing your children!”

The crowd grumbled with several voices rising above the noise.

“They said Saint Baimio was a false prophet too!”

“Our faith is strong!”

“Saint Santana has kept
my
child safe!”

“The Lady fights with her blessing, we saw it!”

Inquisitor Anton turned to me and beckoned me forward.

So this was what he wanted me for.

I stepped up, nervous, half expecting him to denounce me. Behind me, Pedro moved closer in support, but Anton waved him back.

Maria looked to me with sad eyes while the air of unease grew.

Pedro stood anxiously. He could also feel it.

I whispered something to him that surprised me, “I love you.”

My husband, that tall, strong, and handsome man I’d always dreamed of, stood there with our daughter in his arms and tears in his eyes. He nodded, and for the first time in years no fear beshadowed him.

Something
had
grown between us, and not something to keep us apart, but something to bind us together. Regardless of what might come, right there and then I found some solace. It was as if, finally, we were a true family.

Inquisitor Anton turned to the crowd and said, “Before you stands Lady Juvela Liberigo, a symbol of this city. She is a Flet with a Heletian husband and name, and a mixed-blood daughter, little Maria. Many of you also believe that she is the servant of Saint Santana, I ask her now: Are you in the service of this so-called saint?”

The crowd fell silent for my answer.

So the Inquisitor wanted me to denounce Saint Santana, fine, simple enough. I cleared my throat and said, “I have never been in the service of the false saint, Saint Santana.”

“Had you ever heard of this fraudulent saint prior to the events of yesterday in which suspicious third parties anointed you her instrument?”

“No.”

“Would you describe yourself as a particularly spiritual person?”

I hesitated, not sure what answer he wanted. I’d promised my soul to Schoperde, and while he probably expected that, I doubted it was the revelation he was after. “My faith is strong and righteous, and it isn’t owed to any false saint.”

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t look angry. “And you have never, in any way, felt that you have been touched by the questionable power of this supposed saint?”

The vision of the huge eye watching over the city came back to haunt me. With a slight shiver, I couldn’t help but glance skywards. “No, never.”

“So your actions yesterday were your own, and not guided by divine power?”

“They were my own. I saw a mother crying for help and went to her aid.”

“Do you believe in Saint Santana, or that she is the protector of children?”

“No, she is a fraud.”

And the faces in the crowd began to drain of the little hope that had lit them.

Inquisitor Anton turned back to the packed square, raising his arms beseechingly. “You have been lied to! Cast aside your false relics and oleander. Krienta will look kindly on those of you who renounce your heresy, but only if you do it now!”

Across the square, oleander dropped to the cobblestones amidst the clatter of discarded amulets. Satisfied, the Inquisitor didn’t even bother to suppress a grin.

Then the sky winked.

In a moment everything changed.

A coldness rose in me to make my soul shiver. The voices within whispered in frightened tones, their fear making them quake.

Something terrible was coming, and then even the Inquisitor lost his grin.

I heard Pedro gasp behind me.

As I began to turn, the voices began whispering bittersweet sympathy, urging me to be brave. Then I heard Maria’s mind-voice, and she only had two words to say, “Bye, Mama.”

I turned to see Pedro staggering back as his arms tightened about Maria. They both stared with wide eyes at a swirling vortex of darkness that opened up in front of them.

“No!” I screamed.

The crowd cried out.

Beside me the Inquisitor turned to face the challenge.

The vortex sucked at the light, the dark within it chill and malicious. Out of it stepped the robed man I’d first seen almost five years ago, the cultist who’d taken the redheaded boy.

I hated him!

I yelled, “Get Maria away!” And then rushed forward to put my body between them.

Pedro stepped further back.

Behind me the Inquisitor chanted.

The robed man, calm and in control, looked straight at me. A hungry grin split his face to reveal bloodstained teeth. “We’re well past that now, we don’t
just
need children.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to me.

Was I his target?

Pedro called from behind, “Juvela!”

I looked over my shoulder.

Pedro stood with his arms pinned by four cultists while a fifth snatched Maria.

I turned my back on their leader to lunge for my daughter.

More blackness arose about me, not of vortexes, but swirling robes. We were outnumbered.

Sef charged through the ballroom, heading for the doors to the balcony. Despite his desperation, I knew he wouldn’t make it.

In the square below, the people of the city began retrieving their discarded oleander and amulets. A voice called out from amongst them, “The Lady of the Saint is
forsaken!
”

Something then hit me from behind to send me sprawling.