by Matthew Ward
"Not anything. Just places near to Skyhaven. The village is now almost directly beneath us." Her voice hardened. "And its inhabitants will be held to account."
"I'm afraid I don't follow," I lied. I'd a fairly shrewd idea what was going on. I just hoped I was wrong.
"I convened the Courts of Heaven early this morning. Their judgment was one of retribution."
"But we don't know exactly who is responsible," I pointed out. "Unless, of course, Torvald has given you that information."
The serathiel shook her head. "He does not know it, not in its entirety. From what we have learned, he was not a devout member of the cult, but a mercenary bought and paid for so that they might learn from his experience."
It was possible. The war had left many men with the skills and knowledge to be good drillmasters. As for Torvald's ignorance of his masters, cults favoured concealing garb precisely so that identities could be protected from friends, as well as enemies. On the other hand, Torvald could have been lying, and I wasn't sure the serathi would have realised if he was. They weren't exactly in tune with mortal behaviour.
"May I speak with him?" I asked. "I might have more success."
"That is not possible." Azyra's words framed an apology, but her expression remained unrepentant. "In any event, he would not have held anything back. That too, is not possible."
My frustration at her unwavering stance was tempered by the fact that the serathi had decided to accomplish the task I'd intended Jamar to set in motion – namely, to destroy the cult. There was only one problem. "If we don't know who the leaders are, we can't ensure that only the guilty are punished."
Azyra smiled coldly. "Come now, Edric Saran. It matters little who gave the orders. Do you imagine anyone in that village remained unaware of your fate? Or did not stand idly by whilst your assailants went about their work? In either case, it is too late. Judgement is underway."
Icy fingers danced along my spine. "What do you mean?"
Azyra extended an elegant hand towards the Farsight. "See for yourself. The Speaker of Retribution is at her work."
I looked again into the waters, and saw things I'd not fully recognised before. The people in the image were not going about their daily business. They were milling about in terror. I saw bodies trampled in the mud, and weapons grasped in desperate hands. But I saw other things too – many of the villagers were garbed in the cultists' ash-grey robes, and even those who weren't seemed better armed than I would have expected.
Even as I watched, the doors of the village's great hall burst open and more cultists issued into the battle. Whatever misgivings I might have had about serathi justice, it seemed that the Cult of the Burning Lord was a very real power in Salkard, if not beyond.
None of this reduced my horror at seeing Myrzanna about her work. One hooded wretch, his skill far surpassed by his momentary bravery, moved to confront the serathi. Her slender sword cut him down before he had chance to swing his axe. Myrzanna didn't even watch the body fall, but pounced on a fleeing villager, felling her with a single wicked swipe. At no time did the Speaker of Retribution seem in the slightest danger. She toyed with her prey as would a cat, feeding hope before dashing it to pieces. She killed the fleeing with as little compunction as those who fought back, and the children as readily as their elders. A sour taste flooded the back of my mouth. This wasn't justice; it was slaughter, and I had no taste for it.
I spun to face Azyra. "End this. End this now."
The serathiel regarded me serenely. "This is our judgement."
"It's little more than murder!" I clenched my fists. I was fast losing my grip on my temper. "She's killing everyone, not just the guilty."
"I show you this as a courtesy," Azyra said coldly. "If you do not wish to watch, remove yourself."
I didn't want to leave. I wanted to find a way of ending this madness. But I also knew I'd quickly lose what was left of my composure if I attempted to argue. I needed to think, and for that I needed to remain calm. Offering a stiff bow to the serathiel, I passed back through the gate and onto the causeway.
Koschai came with me, a conflicted look upon his face. I aimed a kick at one of the railings, and started in surprise when it buckled under the impact. Another thing for the drudges to fix.
"That's hardly going to help," said Koschai.
I rounded on him, all the anger I'd dared not show in front of Azyra bubbling to the surface. "This has to stop. They can't simply butcher every man, woman and child in the village."
Koschai held up his hands in calming gesture. "I quite agree, my boy, but if the serathiel won't listen, I'm not sure what you can do."
"There has to be a way."
"It's beyond our control. You have to accept that."
"Even for a dead man, that's cold." I pressed a hand to my brow, striving for elusive calm. "My apologies. That was uncalled for."
The older man nodded. "Unless you want to go in there and start waving your sword around – which I don't advise, by the way – then I don't know what else you can..." His brow furrowed as he misread by expression. "You can't be serious."
"Why? You've just told me that there are no other options," I said. "But you needn't worry. I have no intention of inviting death by threatening the serathi. Wild threats don't exactly engender respect, especially hollow ones."
His eyes narrowed. I don't think he believed me. "What will you do?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. "Probably just repeat myself, but I can't stand here and do nothing. There's at least a chance she'll change her mind."
"Getting the serathiel to change her mind is no easy task, Edric Saran."
I wheeled around. Adanika stood a short distance away. She was bent over, her forearms resting on the top of the railings, the dark feathers of her wings and wisps of white hair rippling in the breeze. Had she been there the entire time?
"Then help me. Tell me how I can get her to stop this."
"I should not defy the serathiel." Adanika spoke mildly. "To do so would be to defy will of the Radiant, or so it is said."
"Really?" I flung a hand towards the Farsight. "This is what the Radiant would want, the slaughter of innocents?"
"Perhaps, if it prevented the wickedness of others."
"Then you won't help?"
Adanika offered no reply, so I walked away. Or rather, I tried to. Koschai seized my upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and leaned in close. "One moment." He raised his voice to address Adanika. "Is there truly nothing to be done? We both know that the serathiel is not incapable of error." That was an interesting assertion. I made a mental note to follow up on it at a less fraught time. "Please, Adanika."
"There is perhaps one thing that you might try," Adanika allowed, speaking carefully. "As a guest, and an ally in potential only, Edric Saran, your voice carries no weight. Azyra's pride will not allow her to acknowledge your concerns, valid or otherwise. If you were to accept her offered alliance, she might react more favourably."
I beheld her with astonishment. "It's as simple as that?"
"I did not say so. I said only that you might attempt it."
"That's insane!" I'd seen Tressian lords and Hadari chiefs insist on protocol and tradition, but seldom with so callous a disregard for life.
Adanika brushed a gossamer strand of snow-white hair from her eyes. "To you, perhaps. Not to us."
Again I was reminded of the gulf between us. I couldn't comprehend how the serathi put protocol above innocent life, but perhaps that was the point. The serathi didn't see the world as I did. Not all of them, at least. Adanika perhaps, but she was too bound by loyalty to act. Or maybe she couldn't volunteer help unless asked in the proper manner. Had she followed us here, seeking an opportunity to help?
"It is up to you, of course," Adanika went on. "But if you see even a shard of value in the suggestion I have made, you should put it to use whilst it is of any benefit at all."
Koschai nodded. "Edric, I know it's hardly the proper way to behave, but
your word need be only as binding as you wish it to be. It depends whether you consider the villagers' worth a possible sacrifice of honour."
I sighed. "I'll try."
I walked through the gate, Koschai and Adanika a few paces behind.
Azyra welcomed me as if nothing had occurred. "You return. Have you hardened your heart?"
"No." Already I felt awkward, and not a little dishonest. "I've come to a decision about the offer you made yesterday."
"Indeed?"
I took a deep breath. "I accept the honour of being your emissary to the world below. I will help you prepare my people for the Reckoning."
"That is excellent, Edric Saran." Azyra's professed joy didn't quite reach her tone. I wondered why, until I realised her gaze settled on Adanika. "I welcome it, of course. But I do wonder at the timing."
The bait was obvious, but there was no sense rising to it. "The timing is what it is. I promised you an answer today, and saw no good reason for delay."
"Indeed," Azyra said drily. "And now, I think, you wish to make a suggestion, as one member of the Courts of Heaven to another?"
Her gaze remained on Adanika, rather than me. I had a fleeting concern for the consequences Adanika might suffer, but then remembered the carnage being wrought below. Priorities Edric, priorities. Adanika had made her choice freely.
I nodded. "Indeed." I was tired of the serathiel making a game out of innocent. "Stop this. Stop this now. Let the guilty pay with their lives, but spare the blameless."
A chorus of not-quite-gasps sounded behind me. Everything went horribly still, the flickering images of the Farsight the only motion. It was doubtless many centuries since someone had spoken to the serathiel so bluntly, if indeed anyone ever had. Koschai put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, though whether he meant it as a gesture of support or warning, I couldn't tell.
Azyra said nothing. Had I, in my impatience, squandered my only opportunity? Between us, the Farsight relayed images of slaughter. Let this work, I implored Ashana, careless of the tactlessness of invoking one Great Power to influence the deeds of another's servants. Let this work.
Cold blue eyes bored into me. "I grant your request."
I realised she'd delayed her answer not to consider her course, but as a small act of revenge for the manner in which I'd forced the issue. A petty gesture, and one I'd have considered beneath a being of Azyra's stature. Apparently, I'd been mistaken.
"Elynna, to my side," Azyra commanded. Her eyes never left mine.
Elynna moving to the serathiel's side, reluctance dragging at her like chains."Yes, sister?"
"Find Myrzanna. Instruct her to come home."
Elynna straightened, but made no move to leave. Her eyes flicked from Azyra, to me, and finally back to Azyra.
"Are my instructions not clear?" Azyra asked coldly.
Elynna shrank away. "Yes, sister. But..."
"You have nothing to fear," Azyra interrupted. "Inform her of my decision, and she will obey."
So far as I could tell, the Azyra's words did little to comfort her younger sister, but Elynna took wing nonetheless. Clearly she'd chosen to risk Myrzanna's wrath over courting the ire of a serathiel already vexed.
Azyra gazed into the Farsight pool. "Elynna is swift. If she has no difficulty convincing Myrzanna, your wishes shall soon be met."
"And if not?"
"Then more blood will be shed. Myrzanna is the Speaker of Retribution – her passion for such far outstrips her obedience, and she ever finds ways to remind me of that."
I felt victory slip from my grasp. "So you can't stop her?"
"I meant to say what I said," Azyra corrected with an edge of impatience. "If she disobeys I shall reissue them personally. We are allies, Edric Saran. My word binds me just as you are bound by yours."
That much was certainly true. Then again, as Koschai had suggested, I didn't feel constrained to keep my word, especially as I'd given it under duress. Unfortunately, the serathiel knew that, which in turn suggested that her promise too could be broken at any time. "I understand."
Azyra nodded. "Good. There should be understanding between allies. If it helps ease your concerns, it would appear Myrzanna's obedience has triumphed over her passion. She has withdrawn."
Peering into the Farsight, I saw this was true. All around Salkard, men and women stared apprehensively skyward, weapons drawn lest the vengeful serathi return. The ground was choked with corpses. A bitter harvest from a bloody field. I gave a silent prayer for the slain, and offered thanks to Ashana that the carnage had ended.
Elynna landed upon the bridge. "I have relayed your instructions, sister. Myrzanna returns even now."
"You chose not to fly at her side?" the serathiel asked.
"I did." Elynna swallowed a grimace and looked away. "I fear she was no more impressed by the messenger than the message."
Azyra frowned, and nodded. Elynna moved to join the other serathi.
"What happens now?" I asked Koschai.
"I don't know," he replied, softly. "I've seldom seen the serathi quarrel, but if Elynna's expression is anything to go by, Myrzanna isn't likely to let the serathiel's decision stand uncontested."
I recalled how Koschai had convinced Adanika to help. "You alluded to other occasions when the serathiel had been wrong. What..."
Koschai gave a swift shake of the head. Clearly now was not the time.
Myrzanna landed upon the bridge a moment later, coming to rest before the serathiel. The Speaker of Retribution's armour and exposed skin was red with blood; her naked sword was slippery with it. None of it, I felt certain, was Myrzanna's. Indeed, I didn't even know if serathi bled as mortals did.
One thing for sure was that Myrzanna was every bit as unhappy as Koschai had predicted. Her jaw was set, her eyes afire with an anger focused solely on the serathiel. Her muscle were taut, as if under a rigid control that could snap at any moment. "What is the meaning of this? Why have you stilled retribution's course?"
"Our ally requested it. I decided to honour that request," Azyra said coldly. "He feared the innocent would be slain alongside the guilty."
"There are no innocents in that place; the settlement reeks of sin, and worse! Something unwholesome in the ground poisons all nearby."
"Then seek out and destroy the source," I might as well not have spoken, for no one paid me the slightest heed.
"You have grown soft, Azyra," Myrzanna spat. "I have not. Let me do what must be done."
"No. The decision has been made. You will obey."
Myrzanna gave voice to a great wordless scream, and brought up her sword. Whether she meant to strike the serathiel, or whether the motion was simply an unconscious action born of frustration, I wasn't sure. The graces clearly took it for the former.
In a blur of motion, they twisted the sword from Myrzanna's hand, sending the blade tumbling to the floor. Then they seized her arms, holding her fast before the serathiel.
No one else moved, or said anything. All of us, mortal and serathi alike, were captured by the drama unfolding before us.
Azyra regarded Myrzanna coldly for a moment. "You have disobeyed my will. That I could have forgiven. Had you made challenge according to tradition, and submitted to the Trial of Swords, I would have embraced you. But to raise your weapon against a sister, without giving the proper challenge – to take arms against your serathiel, no less? Tell me, sister, what price does retribution demand for that?"
Myrzanna stood silent and proud, her eyes locked on Azyra's. The battle of wills between the two was palpable, almost physical in its intensity. Adanika started forward to intervene, but whatever she would have said or done forever remained a mystery.
Utterly without warning, Skyhaven shook beneath my feet.
Nine
I staggered, barely keeping my balance. Azyra threw up a hand to steady herself on a nearby column. One of Myrzanna's captors lost her grip as she briefly struggled for footing. Koschai, his reactions and balance those
of an older man, stumbled and would have fallen had Adanika not supported him. Only Myrzanna seemed unaffected, almost prepared.
My fleeting thought was that the city was falling from the sky. A moment later, the tremor ceased, and I saw that the true horror was unfolding elsewhere.
The image on the Farsight blazed a sudden and brilliant white. Dull red spots clouded my vision. The glow slowly faded, leaving behind it an image of a much changed Salkard. Where buildings had stood there were now scorched and tumbled stones, fire-blackened timbers and clouds of swirling ash. Of the villagers, there was no sign. They were all dead, consumed by an attack that had wrought impossible ruin upon their homes. What had I witnessed?
The serathi stood in shocked silence. Most stared into the Farsight with reverence and horror. Myrzanna did the same, though in her case I caught a trace of something I couldn't quite identify, perhaps a remnant of the anger that had blazed so strong but moments before.
Azyra stared at the Speaker of Retribution, a cold anger burning within her eyes. "What have you done, Myrzanna?" The serathiel did not shout – indeed, she barely raised her voice – but the words cut through the air like a knife. "I gave no leave for you to wield the Light of the Radiant. Indeed, I forbade it."
"This was not my doing," Myrzanna said absently. Her eyes never once left the devastation. "There was no need to use it, no need at all."
Azyra struck Myrzanna across the face, so fast that I barely saw her move. Myrzanna fell to one knee, hand flying to her reddened cheek.
"What's happening?" asked Koschai. "I don't seem to be able to see."
"Your sight will return, give it time. As for the rest, I don't know." I breathed my reply. The last thing I wanted was draw the attention of Myrzanna or Azyra. "I'm not sure anyone does. Do you know what the Light of the Radiant is?"
The older man shook his head. "It's the first I've heard of it. I presume it caused the tremor and that flash."
"It did more than that," I told him. "It destroyed Salkard."
"Oh no," Koschai's sightless eyes widened. "What of the people?"
"I think they're all dead."
