The Fall of Ossard Read online

  A voice whispered, “It comes!”

  I turned to look for the speaker, only to realise it was one of the voices in my mind. The rest of them then rose loud and clear as a chorus, all becoming frantic, “It comes! It comes!”

  They cried out within me, repeating again and again, “It comes! It comes! It comes!”

  Then the strongest hissed, “Beware, it comes!” And the others fell into wailing.

  Distracted, it took me a moment to realise that everyone about me had stopped and that the square stood silent - but for the tolling of the Cathedral’s bells.

  Dong…

  Sef tensed, placing a hand on Maria.

  Dong…

  I again tightened my grip on her hand.

  Dong…

  The very air chilled.

  Dong…

  People about us looked to each other with growing fear.

  Dong…

  Then silence.

  Complete blessed silence.

  Just five as it should be…

  Dong…

  And thousands of voices arose as women wailed and men groaned to drown out the sixth tolling of the bell.

  Sef picked up Maria and put his other arm about me to shepherd us towards our coach. The square surged with people, and as we hurried, we passed a woman who’d dropped to her knees amidst the panic to clutch at her young daughter. She cried, “Only five, not six, you can’t take any more!”

  As if in answer, the daylight dimmed about her. Black sparks danced and snapped on the cobblestones, and then in a swirl of chill darkness, a vortex opened up beside her to leak a celestial shadow. The form took shape; it was a man robed in black.

  The woman cried out.

  He stepped forth on to frosted cobbles, reaching out for her daughter’s hand.

  No one stopped, no one even seemed to notice - just me. Then I realised that no one else could see him. They were blind to the truth.

  My accursed witchery had returned to burden me with yet more guilt!

  Her daughter, with eyes sparkling amidst gathering tears, reluctantly reached out. She trembled with fear. Still, as if she had no will of her own, she moved to fulfil his unspoken command.

  I couldn’t witness this, not again, not after the red-haired boy.

  I had to do something!

  I slipped out of Sef’s grip and snatched the knife from his belt.

  Maria looked to me with her beautiful blue eyes while a voice fierce with love hissed in my mind, “Be careful!”

  Witchery!

  I was stunned. It was her, who else could it be? I nearly stopped, but the mother’s desperate pleas grabbed back my attention.

  Sef yelled, “Where are you going?”

  I ignored him.

  The cultist looked down at the girl, waiting for her trembling hand.

  Her mother held her tight, and though I didn’t think she could see him like I could, she somehow sensed his presence.

  The voices cried out for me to hurry.

  My vision then regained the clarity it had only once held before. With that finer view, the black celestial sparks became storms of energy cascading off the cultist and radiating out from the magic he cast to hide himself.

  I was nearly there, each step closing the gap.

  But how was I going to stop him?

  The sounds of the crowd, the whirlwind of movement, and the dazzling flare of magic combined to be dizzying. Amidst it all I could still hear Sef yelling. “Damn it Juvela, wait!”

  The girl reached out to the cultist.

  I wouldn’t get there in time.

  I called, “Get away from him!”

  She seemed oblivious to me, and then took his hand, sliding her fingers across his own and deep into his palm.

  He grabbed them tightly.

  In an instant I saw her lose the colours of life.

  Her mother howled.

  Then, still charging, I finally arrived.

  I slashed at the cultist with Sef’s blade while diving between them to force them apart. The knife clumsily cut into his shoulder.

  He cursed and fell back.

  I pushed the girl aside and broke their hands’ grip. At the same time, a shower of blue sparks flared to dance about us.

  The crowd screamed and fell back.

  They’d seen something!

  I fell to the cobbles and rolled to a stop.

  The girl lay limp in her mother’s arms, but with life’s colours returning.

  In front of us stood the cultist, now back on his feet. For the first time the crowd could see him, I think they could even see the sparks spilling off from him as his broken spell bled away.

  Sef ran towards me with Maria in his arms. He dodged around the cultist to stand between us, passing me Maria before turning back to face him. He looked to the cultist with threatening eyes, and in a slow but determined movement drew his sword. He mumbled a prayer, his words in Flet and their substance hidden under his breath, but every Flet in the square knew he’d just asked for a blessing from our battle god; Kave.

  The cultist ignored him, instead turning to me. “And how will you explain this to the Church?”

  A bitter stink grew, and in a swirling flash he was gone.

  Beyond where he’d stood loomed the twin towers of the Cathedral. Priests crowded at the top of its steps, amidst them Benefice Vassini. They’d seen everything.

  The woman beside me rose to her feet clutching her rousing daughter. Over and over she whispered, “Thank you.” But she was so shaken that all she could do was stumble away.

  I got up off the cobbles with Maria. “Sef, we should go.”

  People milled about, confused and frightened, many in a panic that only grew. They pushed past each other to knock others over, as well as stalls, and the fences of the livestock pens.

  I risked a glance over the commotion, looking back to the Cathedral. Predictably, a group of priests advanced through the crowd. Benefice Vassini, robed and regal, watched over them from atop the steps, his face glowering.

  Sef acted quickly, moving ahead to clear a path. With Maria in my arms, I darted after him with every pace putting more confusion between myself and the churchmen.

  Finally, we reached the coach. Sef opened the cab’s door, helped us up, and then threw himself in. He yelled to Kurt, “Make haste!”

  The coach lurched into movement.

  Sef turned to me. “You saw him before the rest of us!”

  Gasping after my dash through the crowd, I could only nod.

  And behind us the Heletite cried out, “Witness the power of Saint Santana! She fights through her chosen Lady, bestowing blessings and wonders to protect those who accept her into their hearts!”

  He was besieged by frightened people.

  5

  The Coming of Chaos

  We returned home through streets full of anxious people rushing to seek safety, amidst units of militia and city watch trying to cut through the crush. While we travelled as fast as we could, the streets remained choked, so by the time we got back to Newbank, it was to find that news of events had preceded us, carried by people who’d travelled more speedily on horseback or by foot.

  Pedro ran from our small courtyard. “Juvela, is Maria alright?”

  His eyes gave him the answer as she reached for him from the opened cab door.

  He took her into his arms and kissed her. Finally he turned to me, reaching forward with one hand to run it softly down my arm before helping me from the coach’s step. It was a surprising affection. “What happened?”

  His questions irritated me, but only because I feared that they were the first of many. I could also see that he wasn’t the only one struck with worry: My parents also stood in the courtyard, and with them a deputation of Flet guildsmen.

  My mother asked, “Are you well, Juvela?” Her true question was of headaches and magic.

  “We’re alright, Sef protected us.”

  A guildsman snapped, “With magic. You’ve been c
areless, and now there’ll be no end of trouble!”

  Pedro looked up at the mention of magic as if someone had cursed.

  I said, “There was no magic. We simply helped a woman in need.”

  My father shrugged. “No matter, they will be here soon. What will you tell them?”

  Pedro nursed Maria, but looked to my father in bewilderment. “They?”

  “The Churchmen. They’ll want to know what happened, and they probably won’t be interested in the truth. They’ll label her a witch and a cultist, and probably try to blame the kidnappings on her.”

  He was right, I hadn’t thought about it.

  What would I tell them?

  Pedro fumed at the suggestion, but deep down knew it held some truth. He’d returned from the monastery a shattered man. While he’d since rediscovered some of his old backbone, it now came wrapped in the meat of an ambiguous devotion. If hearing our talk of the Church made him uncomfortable, I feared what he made of our mention of magic.

  I offered, “I just knocked the cultist down when I ran past.”

  My mother shook her head, she was pale and close to tears. “The Inquisition won’t be happy with that. We heard you attacked the kidnapper with a knife, and that you fought him off with blinding flashes of magic!”

  I said, “The Inquisition isn’t here!”

  My father shook his head. “No doubt they’ve agents, but even without them the Church isn’t likely to let such a public display of the arcane go unpunished.”

  I looked to Maria. “There was no magic, not by me! They can’t take me away, surely I’m protected by my connection to the Liberigos?”

  My father nodded. “Let’s hope so, but for now you’ll go into hiding. The Guild’s sending a carriage and, when you’re safe, we’ll meet with Lord Liberigo and ask him to guarantee your protection.”

  The unmarked carriage arrived amidst a steady flow of people coming to see the lady who’d fought off the kidnapper.

  Me…

  By the time Pedro, Maria, Sef and I were packed into it, we were surrounded by a crowd. Some called out, others begged for my touch. It was unnerving.

  Things were getting out of control.

  My mother pushed past their beseeching hands, knocking them out of the way as she lifted herself up to the window. “Be careful…”

  I cut off her words, “Mother, I’ve far too much to live for.” In Flet I whispered, “Take care, my husband is listening.”

  She fought the urge to glance at him, but nodded. “Remember what happened to your grandmother. Expect no mercy.”

  In the common tongue, I said, “I’ll be alright,” but my words were hollow. I couldn’t hide my doubts.

  She tried to smile.

  Regardless of how we might want to control such things, our secrets and our lives, it’s impossible. Pedro was my husband, and so was involved. He would come with us to the Guild despite there being so many truths that had to be hidden from the Heletians - and he was one of them.

  My mother stepped down to the cobbles as my father yelled to the driver, “Go, get them out of here!”

  The crowd cried out, some holding up the holy star of Krienta while others bravely clutched the symbols of other faiths. To do so put them in as much danger as me, but they were desperate and frightened - and had good reason to be.

  For the first time there’d been a sixth kidnapping, and we’d already seen the seventh attempt. We could only assume that there’d be more. Would the cultists stop at seven, or would they continue until the city was bereft of children?

  Our driver pulled on the reins as the Cathedral’s bells began to toll.

  Dong…

  The mob cried out.

  Dong…

  The carriage lurched off.

  Dong…

  Someone yelled, “She’s the chosen of Santana, and our only hope!”

  Dong…

  My father bellowed, “Sef, keep her safe!”

  Dong…

  And the mob around us fell back as the horses forced their way on to the road.

  Dong…

  I whispered, trying to drown out the sounds of chaos, “They’ve got their seventh in any case.”

  Dong…

  And behind us the mob broke into mourning.

  Our journey saw us head through the heart of the district, taking the widest roads so we could gain some speed and get away from the crowd. Before long, those following us were left far behind. Our driver swung us around, steering us towards the Cassaro, and then along the riverside road until we reached the Guild’s compound.

  Pedro sat glumly with his shoulders slumped, a lost look haunting his eyes. “Just what are we to do?” He shook his head and then glanced up to focus on me. “Please, tell me what really happened?”

  Sef turned to look out the window, watching the passing streets through black lace curtains that worked with the day’s dying light to hide our faces.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Could he handle the truth? Would he support me, or would he side with the Church? He’d returned from the monastery shattered, but also a believer. Just how deep was his faith? How dangerous would it be to expose the truth of the Flets; of our adherence to our ancestral beliefs?

  This was getting complicated, and it was only just beginning.

  I did have to tell him something, but what? Whatever it was, it had to be believable as he was already feeling alienated.

  “We were in Market Square when the bell tolled six.”

  He nodded.

  “People panicked, and in the chaos I saw a lady and her daughter being harassed by a man in robes, some kind of cultist. Sef had Maria, so I grabbed the knife off his belt and charged the man. I slashed at him hoping to ruin his spell. It worked, giving the girl and her mother a chance to flee. People didn’t seem to notice him until I hit him, it sent sparks flaring when I did, but I don’t know why. I didn’t do anything but try and stop him.”

  Pedro’s gaze left me, moving to Sef. Inadvertently I’d made my daughter’s treasured bodyguard and my good friend look bad. I added, “Sef followed, giving Maria back after my charge. He drew his sword against the cultist to face him. By then we had quite an audience including the priests and Benefice atop the steps of the Cathedral. The cultist cast some kind of spell in front of everyone and then disappeared. We came straight home from there.”

  Pedro grumbled at Sef, “You would mind the baby, while my wife attacks cultists?”

  “I hadn’t seen him.”

  I placed my hand on Pedro’s knee, trying to still his anger. “No one saw him. It was not Sef’s failing.”

  “But you did?”

  I shrugged.

  Pedro nodded and then said, “I should have been there.”

  “We’re all safe, let that be the end of it.”

  He looked to me. “But it isn’t, is it.”

  We arrived at the Guild, our coach racing through the compound’s gates to enter the courtyard beyond. A guildsman stood waiting. He hurried us into the Guildhall where we were led upstairs to a small lounge. “Please make yourself comfortable.” Behind him, a staffer hurried to close the window’s curtains. “As soon as we’ve cleared safe passage, you’ll be told.” Then he left, shutting the door behind him.

  Pedro asked, “Safe passage to where?”

  “I don’t know, we’ll have to wait and see.”

  Sef wandered to the other end of the room, looking at the paintings that hung on the wall and leaving the seats to us.

  Pedro sat with an arm around Maria. She fell back and into his lap, playfully snuggling. He smiled as he stroked her long dark hair. Before long she was asleep.

  It was then that he looked up, suddenly grave. “I had to do it.”

  I stared at him not knowing what he meant.

  He continued, “They were all doing it. So many were joining that I didn’t feel I had a choice. And they told me of the benefits, of the blessings of Avida. A lot of the young men were getting in
volved. To succeed you had to be a member. To talk and deal with them you had to be a member. It was plain, I had to join.”

  I finally understood. “When we first met?”

  His voice was weak, “Yes, that was my initiation.”

  “The…” my throat froze.

  He winced, sensing the sorcery as it choked off my words. He finished the sentence for me, “The ritual. I’m so sorry. I thought it was all a superstitious joke. I knew I had to take a virgin, and the higher her power and beauty the better the return.”

  He leaned forward, but took care not to disturb Maria. “I didn’t know of the boy’s part in it, not until it was too late. I was drunk and overcome with lust. When I… When I saw what they did to him, I just didn’t care.” He shook his head as tears welled in his eyes. “My only thought was that he was just a Flet.” He looked down at Maria as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I was such a pig.”

  I was stunned. He’d never spoken of the ritual. I’d almost believed that somehow the monastery had cured him of its memory.

  I didn’t know what to say, or what I could say: The magic still held me even after all these years. I could only try. “How much do you know?”

  “Not enough. Nothing really. Just that there were a few chapters in the city. They recruited from everywhere, but particularly amongst the rich. I don’t know who we can trust.”

  The door opened and a guildsman looked in, “My Lady, Guildmaster Kurgar is ready to see you - alone.”

  Pedro shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. “Go, I’ll watch Maria.”

  I followed the man down a passage to another room. It was well appointed and finished in timber, sporting the colours of both the city and Newbank hanging from the walls. Those grand ensigns were accompanied by smaller pennants, those of the fortified cities of Fletland, and even a shield of the Praagerdam, the land lost to our forefathers during the horrors of Def Turtung. All of it, along with three framed maps of those territories, gave the room a deep sense of heritage.

  Behind a large desk rose the man I knew my father had so often dealt with. He stood at a good height with a solid build, but wasn’t overly bulky. Ironically, jet-black hair capped his head – a rarity amongst the Flets, it made our Guildmaster look almost Heletian. He carried an air of determination, but it was the intelligence in his eyes that stood out.