The Fall of Ossard ot-1 Read online

  Behind them they left the crowding followers of Krienta, all trying to get closer to the Inquisitor because of their own god’s unseen gifts. People cried out in prayer, sang hymns, or just wailed in pious ecstasy.

  Ossard would never be the same again.

  Inquisitor Anton called out, “The city needs to be reborn! It needs your devotion and your vigilance! It needs to leave behind all those things that have brought it to this terrible point, and be rid of them forever!”

  Like parched drunkards they greedily drank of it.

  “Today we divest the city of the institutions that have failed her. There is no more Lord of Ossard, no more Council of Merchant Princes,” and he sniggered, “as if merchants could be princes! And all that is just the start!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “We will also do away with the Flet Guild and the Merchants’Guild. The old establishment is not welcome in our new and holy Ossard!”

  The cheer of the crowd grew louder.

  “In our new city there will be no cultists, cabalists, or witchery, and we will work together to prove our devotion. In a place of pure faith, there will be none to commit the crimes of kidnapping, and any who hold true will enjoy Krienta’s protection!”

  The crowd roared.

  “I hereby proclaim the founding of the Pious Empire of Ossard, the first city-state of the Inquisition!”

  The noise rose to be deafening.

  Anton raised his hands and went on, his voice miraculously clear, “Will you stand with us and save yourselves and your city?”

  And in their rapture they cried out that they would.

  Above it all came a clarion call, but the players were nowhere to be seen. Their work rang out in notes pure and strong, making their listeners’ souls sing.

  “The Church will rule your city and work for this crisis to be over. When Ossard is secure, we will then seek out other places of sin that may one day threaten to return the blight!

  “We will start a crusade!

  “We will seek out heresy!

  “And we will establish missions in Fletland and woeful lost Evora!”

  The shimmering forms of winged angels materialised above him, scores of them, and each played a long golden horn. Robed in white, they smiled with beautiful faces marked by nothing; not age, pox, nor ill form.

  The crowd grew louder, many letting tears run free. Most cried out of miracles and offered still more devotion.

  The angels finished their clarion call and dove down to glide over the square. They swooped low to lay their hands on the sick, to bless the needy, and to chase away any lingering despair.

  How could any doubt the Inquisitor and his declared pious empire? How could any doubt the future when it came heralded by angels?

  Those devoted to Krienta poured in from across the city to replace the followers of the new saints as they left.

  And amidst it all, in the centre of the crush, I remained alone and forsaken.

  Having got what I came for, to know the future of the Inquisition’s Ossard, I made to go.

  I began to cross the square as one of the angels glided down, unknowingly heading straight for me. At the last moment, he looked up, but then averted his eyes as he set his great wings beating. He still passed above, but at a greater height, and I swear that as he did he shivered.

  It reminded me of Anton’s words; that the city’s factions feared me.

  Was I something to fear?

  With my anger stewing over my missing daughter and husband, I knew the answer; and it was yes. Deep within me a power stirred, and it was only just beginning.

  After leaving the square, and those loyal to the Church, I passed through those who’d given themselves to the new saints. They headed towards the port district to where the razed warehouse had stood, lured by the swirling column of blessings.

  I left it all, heading back down the main avenue and towards home.

  The future of the city seemed clear: It divided three ways, two powered by gods, the other by a strong sense of community not without its own divine help.

  As Anton had said; the city would have to be washed in blood. Now I believed him.

  I arrived at my parents’home to be greeted by one of their maids. The young woman failed to stifle a gasp when she opened the door. I could sense it, she was frightened, her mind crying out, “The Forsaken Lady!”

  I was surprised to see a fellow Flet so affected. She seemed confused and unsure. I didn’t sense that she’d pledged herself to the new saints, perhaps just to the street’s gossip.

  My mother took her place. “Where’ve you been, we’ve been worried?” The maid retreated into the shadows.

  I said, “Sorry, is Father back from the Guild?”

  “He’s in the rose garden.”

  “Is Sef with him?”

  Surprised at the question, she answered, “Yes?”

  I nodded and stepped past her.

  I found them in the courtyard sitting on the benches by the roses I’d planted almost five years ago. Strangely, as the city slipped towards chaos, the bushes seemed to have decided to bloom.

  Father looked pale and his face was grim. “Oh Juvela, are you well?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  He nodded, but kept looking at me to check me over. Finally he said, “I’ve been talking to the Guild, to Heinz Kurgar, they can’t help – not to find Pedro and Maria. They’ve too much else to worry about.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m sorry Juvela, but they think they’re going to be shut down by the Church, so they’re preparing to go underground.”

  Sef watched him, but his eyes just as often darted to me. I realised that his vision focused not on this world, but the next, the celestial. He sat beside my father surveying my soul.

  He also had power!

  Slipping my perception into the celestial, I couldn’t read his emotions or see any telltale glow or spark. If anything, it was his soul’s blandness that gave him away. It was a false image, all too ordinary – something he projected to hide his true self.

  Could I trust him?

  It was Sef…

  Of course I could.

  I said, “The Inquisitor has declared Ossard the first city-state of a new and pious empire. He has also denounced and ordered the ruin of the Lordship, the Council, and both the Flet and Merchant Guilds as he blames them for the city’s demise. He won’t help us. He’s too busy using this as an opportunity to take power.”

  My father asked, “That was the proclamation?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were there?”

  “Yes, along with tens of thousands of people – and angels! Father, something terrible is coming. The city is divided three ways; the old of St Baimio, those of the new saints, and the Flets. The gods are at war, but it’ll be the ordinary people who suffer.”

  My grandmother’s voice hissed, “Not all of us are ordinary!”

  Sef looked to me and nodded.

  Had he heard?

  Father sat quietly, but after consideration asked, “And what of you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mother tells me that she gave you your grandmother’s book. Can you use it? Will it keep you safe, or will it just see you burnt at the stake by Anton and his ilk as he did her?”

  Anton had claimed my grandmother?

  He looked me over, sensing something different. “Sweet Juvela, I don’t want to lose you, and least of all to the Inquisition.”

  “I’m changed, it’s true, but I’ll be safe. I’m more worried about you and Mother.”

  Shaking his head, he whispered, “Juvela, what’s happening?”

  In truth I didn’t know. I knew bits and pieces, but only a little more than he did. I shrugged. “What of Heinz Kurgar and the Guild?”

  “Like I said, he’s worried that they’ll be shut down.”

  “It is going to be shut down. Does he have a plan?”

  “He wants to take the Guild’s workin
gs into hiding.”

  “Father, our people are going to be used as scapegoats. We can’t let that happen. Don’t let Kurgar take the Guild underground, let it stand tall and proud as a symbol of hope. When the trouble starts our people will need something to rally to.”

  He asked, “What can we do?”

  “Gather our people into Newbank, two thirds of our number are already here and most of the rest on the riverbank opposite. We should then take control of the bridge. If we can hold it, we can be safe. Once we’ve done that the Guild can govern us.”

  My father spluttered, “You talk of insurrection!”

  “Father, the city’s already divided. Let the Heletians work out their differences and then we can deal with the victor.”

  He thought about it, his eyes wandering over the rose garden. “It might work.” He looked up to meet my gaze. “Where did you get such wisdom?”

  I frowned. “Wise women don’t lose their families.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  Perhaps he was right. “Father, has anything been said about where Pedro and Maria might have been taken?”

  “Nothing for certain, only suggestions of the port district. Some of the guildsmen also talked of the Inquisitor’s linking of the cults and Santana. They think he’s right, but not all agree.”

  “There’s something else you should know.”

  “What?”

  “There’s another new saint.”

  “Another?”

  “I heard people speak of a Saint Malsano.”

  My father shook his head. “How can this be?” He looked about as if even in the privacy of his own courtyard he no longer felt safe. “We’ve heard that the followers of Saint Santana want to build a chapel on the ashes of the razed warehouse. They’re claiming that it’ll purify the ground. It leaves me to wonder; could they actually be trying to build something there to use the ritual’s power?”

  His words stuck in my mind. Could the cults use whole bloodlines to sanctify such a building, some kind of dark temple? And would that blood be Maria’s and Pedro’s, or did they need the bloodlines for something else?

  I began to feel anxious. I had to get started on my search and go to see the ruined warehouse. “I’m sorry, Father, but I must go. Have the Guild stay open, our people will need it.”

  He nodded, but was reluctant to see me leave. “Where?”

  “To look for Maria and Pedro.”

  “It’s too dangerous. There are people out there who blame you for all this.”

  “Sorry, but I must.”

  He stood and took a step towards me. “I still can’t believe you went to Market Square by yourself.” And his gaze moved to Sef, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. “You were lucky not to be arrested!”

  “Father, I appreciate your concern, but don’t blame Sef. I insisted on going alone. No one touched me. In fact they went out of their way to avoid me. They’re scared of me.”

  He reached out to put his hands on my shoulders, looking me lovingly in the eyes. “Juvela, frightened people can do terrible things. Remember our history; during Def Turtung the Lae Velsanans nearly destroyed our people, and in turn they brought down their own dominion. They didn’t do it because of hate, but because of fear. Don’t tempt the masses of Ossard, they’re more scared of you right now than the Lae Velsanans ever were of us.”

  He had a point.

  While I might feel born anew and could sense my soul stirring with rising power, I was still untested. “You’re right, I promise to take greater care, but I do need to search for my family. I can’t just sit at home and wait for news of their…” my voice broke, “…slaughter.”

  He nodded as his strong hands rubbed my shoulders.

  I loved him; the care in his eyes and his deep passion for my mother.

  He said, “Take Sef with you, we all know he can help.”

  “I will, and I’ll be careful.”

  “Juvela, to lose you would be to lose half my world. Please take care, for I think the city has already lost its way.”

  I shook my head, refusing to accept such a thing.

  “It’s true, just look at it! As you said, Ossard is split three ways, and two will align against the other, and those alliances will shift. We will all suffer. There’ll be mobs and riots, and lynchings and lootings. The only thing missing will be justice.” He shook his head as he pictured the tragedy to come. “I can live with the city falling into chaos if I have to, but I can’t live if it takes you and your mother.”

  I hugged him, my voice muffled by his shirt, “I’ll be careful.”

  He opened the embrace, taking a step back to look at me. Pride filled his eyes as he smiled, and with that brightening his worries faded.

  I nodded and turned to leave.

  Sef thanked my father and moved to follow.

  “Juvela, please wait!” It was my mother. She was standing at the door to the house from where she tried to bravely smile – but faltered.

  My poor mother…

  My heart ached to see her try and support me, but at the same time be so crippled by her fears. I offered, “It’s alright, I’m learning so much and so quickly, and the more I know the safer I’ll be.”

  Her eyes sparkled with gathering tears. “Your grandmother knew a lot more, but she wasn’t safe. They still came for her…”

  I hurried to her, throwing my arms about her. “Mother, please…”

  “No, you have to hear it!” she insisted, choking back her tears. “They came for her in the middle of the night, beating her senseless in her own bed. They drugged her to stop her from casting, and then dragged her away.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “Despite all her power they still got her. Do you hear me? She didn’t even get a chance to scratch them!” She was digging her fingers into me.

  “They tortured her for days until they finally judged her. Once damned by the Inquisitor they tied her unconscious and naked to a stake in Market Square, and she wasn’t alone.” My mother relaxed her grip. “Oh Juvela, forty eight others joined her, them all roused with smelling salts just in time for their burning.”

  I rocked her in my arms. “It’s alright.”

  She pulled back from me as she wiped at her tears. “They made me watch! They held me at the front of the crowd and made me watch as they burnt her alive, and I still have nightmares about it!”

  I couldn’t help but shiver.

  She went on, “I’ve learnt to live with them, but I couldn’t live with having to watch you suffer the same fate. You have to be careful. Don’t put all your faith in your power, put some in Schoperde as well!”

  I nodded.

  She said, “He sought her out, he can smell witches.”

  “Anton?”

  She gave a nod, and then paused to take a deep breath as my father stepped up beside her. With a calmer voice, she said, “It was the worst day of my life, but also the best; it was where I met your father. Without him and his family I’d have been destitute,” and worry and love rode in her words together.

  Standing there, I realised this was a day she’d long feared would come, and now that it was here she was drawing upon all her reserves to push through.

  She smiled. “Juvela, you’re revealed now, yet I imagine you’ve much to learn. Please, just be careful.”

  She was right. The book had done little for me in the ways of using my power, yet I still felt confident I’d master it.

  My mother’s smile broadened, but it came tinged with sadness.

  Thinking that she was still burdened with her worry, I said, “I’ll be careful, I mean it. I won’t go anywhere without Sef.”

  She nodded and said, “You look so much like your grandmother.” I smiled, but she went on, “It’s almost like she’s back from the grave.”

  And laughter rang out from the celestial.

  12

  Rising Smoke

  The afternoon warmed, and with it came a slow but determined breeze. It arrived carrying Ossard�
�s usual stink, but today its blustering breath also delivered a new and bitter aroma; of burning.

  Half a dozen columns of smoke rose from the heart of the city, climbing to feed a growing haze. They seemed anchored around Market Square. Not long after some of the Flets living in the wider city began crossing the river to seek the safety of Newbank.

  Behind them came a chorus of distant cries and yells. The arrivals spoke of riots at the heart of the city, all saying the same thing; the Heletians were fighting amongst themselves.

  Some of the followers of the new saints had forced their way into the Cathedral taking armfuls of oleander and relics with which to build a shrine. They were challenged by Vassini’s priests and told to leave. They’d refused and argued, and then been forcibly expelled. Dragged from the Cathedral and hurled down its front steps, scuffles broke out as a mob gathered. Some died in the fighting that followed, failing to establish a shrine, but giving their fellow believers something as powerful; martyrs.

  Worse would come, I was sure of it.

  Sef and I left my parents’ home, passing through streets abuzz with news and rumours from across the river. We headed to my own household barely a few hundred paces from where I’d grown up. Both homes were in the good part of Newbank, a small elevated area without the chronic overcrowding that marked the rest of the low-lying district.

  I noticed, as we walked, that even here some people kept their distance or stared at me. The city might be divided three ways, but it seemed it could still breakup further. The realisation left me wary.

  If they thought I was forsaken, then they were most likely followers of the new saints or somehow aligned.

  Flet followers of the new saints?

  My pace quickened as I waved Sef up to my side.

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to be honest with me.”

  “Of course,” he said, but his tone was guarded.

  “You’ve been to Fletland and survived its battles.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ve also seen its many faiths.”

  “Yes?” and his voice grew tight.

  “I need you to tell me about them.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “It’s the cults that I need to know more of.”