DeBarres nodded. "Goran Kell is what the Brotherhood call a Bishop — the equivalent of our Archimandrites — responsible for spreading their heresy in Fayence. Scarra probably joined with them to spite the Makennon family. If your mercenary isn't on the level, then he's remarkably lucky to pick such a name. Let's find Confessor Kamil and see what she makes of him."
Confessor Kamil had been up all night hearing the confessions of the many people who had been brought in since yesterday's attack. Most of them were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or a little drunk, and had been given penance and thrown out of the castle. A few, in Kamil's opinion, bore closer scrutiny to determine whether they had been involved in interfering with the pursuit. They had been kept in separate cells overnight, so they wouldn't conspire over their stories, and Kamil could get back to them later.
One of the men Gabriella had fought had survived and Kamil was with him when the knights came to find her. He was lying, heavily bandaged, in a filthy cot in one corner of the dungeon. His eyes widened as soon as Gabriella came into view.
"Ah you recognise her?" Kamil asked him. "What about you, Sister DeZantez? Do you recognise this man?"
"He tried to stop me on a staircase." She had been too focussed on catching the running man to stop and see whether this one or his friend had survived. "Why did you do that?" she asked.
"Paid," he mumbled dreamily. From his pallor it was obvious he was in pain from his injuries.
"Who paid you, and why?" she asked the man.
"Dunno. A fat man gave us ten silver each to make sure that anybody chasing a man in grey on that street was stopped."
"Why?"
"He didn't say and we didn't ask. Didn't expect to see a chase. Took the money and laughed about it."
"But you did what you were asked."
"Took the money, didn't we?"
"Yes," Kamil commented, "Sadly for you, you did." She leaned in closer to Gabriella, Erak and DeBarres. "It'll be the gibbet, of course."
They all nodded; it was only natural that he should end that way.
"This fat man," Gabriella said to him, "What was his name?"
"Scar, or something."
"Scarra," she whispered thoughtfully. So Hasso's story had a bit of corroboration now.
"Do you know something?" Kamil asked, puzzled.
"Not necessarily, but maybe." She quickly told Kamil about Hasso's quest for a reward. "The mercenary says this fat man called Scarra is a member of the Brotherhood. Eminence Kesar knows the name too, from Faith records."
"So do I," DeBarres put in. "His grandfather was an Eminence, as was his mother before him. They're from Nurn, same as Erak here. There's been two generations' worth of gossip about how come our Anointed Lord's father became Anointed Lord instead of Scarra's dad. Scarra's father defected because of it. He left the service of the church and became a merchant in Pontaine."
The Confessor nodded slowly. "Suddenly we have a motive."
"Family feud," Erak agreed. "If that's true, it won't stop with one attempt."
Gabriella shook her head. "It'll stop. Whether they want to or not. Confessor, will you hear Hasso's confession? Everything he knows about the Scarra, we need to know." Kamil nodded and Gabriella suddenly remembered there was one other source of information. "The assassin that Erak killed… Do we know anything about him?"
"No-one recognizes the face, so he isn't local. The body had a Brotherhood tattoo on its collarbone."
"Necromancers?"
Kamil grimaced. "Not with the head severed. They always go mad when they're that way." Gabriella glared at Erak, who responded with a hangdog look.
"All right," DeBarres said decisively. "I'll have this Hasso come down to you. Find out everything he knows about Scarra and Kell, and any other Brotherhood connections he might have witnessed or been involved in." He smiled thinly. "Also find out whether he deserves that reward, or to have to atone for his sins."
Later that day, Gabriella was summoned to the lushly-appointed room in which Rodrigo Kesar sat on a chair that wasn't far off being a regal throne. Gabriella sat on a simple stool before him. Two silent servants stood in the corners, awaiting their master's commands.
"Sister DeZantez," he began. "I gather you've been throwing yourself into the work of getting to the bottom of this vile attack on Eminence Rhodon."
"Yes, Eminence. As a matter of fact I'd like — " Gabriella hesitated, suddenly feeling that she had overstepped her mark. Then it occurred to her that if she had done so already, it was too late to back down. "I'd like to be a part of the hunt for Kell and Scarra."
"Would you, indeed?" Kesar's smile was faintly mocking.
"Yes." She met his gaze as evenly as she could. "We know from his defecting mercenary that Karel Scarra is making for a vineyard near Andon. We know he is a ranking member of the Brotherhood and we know the bowman who made the shot was a member of the Brotherhood. We also know that Scarra met a Brotherhood Bishop named Kell not far from here, at around the time of the attack."
To her surprise, his smile warmed somewhat, becoming more genuine. "And will you define 'a part of' for me?"
She flushed. "I know I haven't the rank to lead the hunt," she said at last, "but I'd like to do whatever I can to help."
"Of course." Kesar paused. "You acknowledge that you are not ranked to lead this hunt, and yet you bring the concept into our conversation."
"Eminence?" She inwardly cursed, for making herself look a fool.
"The question of leadership needed no mention here, least of all by someone who acknowledges that she is not the one to lead. So why mention it all, other than to put the word 'lead' into connection with yourself?" Gabriella could feel her face growing ever redder. "Don't worry, Sister DeZantez; the ambition to do one's best in the name of the Lord Of All is not a sin. And nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about." He sniffed. "Very few people ever became leaders, who did not first seek to put themselves in that position."
"Eminence, if I were to ask to lead the hunt… Forget it, it would never happen."
"Perhaps not. I'm sure Preceptor DeBarres has many eminently qualified and suitable Knights who he can assign to the task. Then again, perhaps you are one of that number. I wouldn't know."
"Thank you, Eminence." She wasn't sure whether she had done herself any good or not, but the discussion itself had been more than she expected. He extended a hand so that she could kiss his signet ring once more before leaving.
When she had gone, Kesar gestured to one of the servants. "Have Preceptor DeBarres sent to me without delay."
A rap at the Eminence's door a few minutes later proved to herald the arrival of Preceptor DeBarres. He had shed his armour and now wore robes and the tabard of the Order.
"I'm ready to present my report," DeBarres said without preamble. He gave Kesar a scroll.
"I'm sure it makes interesting reading." Kesar laid the scroll on the table. "I didn't invite you here just to read a report, Raul."
"Raul?" DeBarres echoed. "Is this an off-the-record meeting, then?" Kesar nodded. "Then I'll take a seat."
"What think you of Sister DeZantez?" Kesar asked.
DeBarres raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"
"As a soldier."
"She's a fine soldier," DeBarres said proudly. "Strong, well-skilled, can take hits that would floor me. She has a good grasp of tactics and works well both on her own initiative and in any team arrangement."
"As an Enlightened One?"
DeBarres smiled, still proud. "She's devout, well-read… There's a touch of Heaven in all of us, but she has more than most."
"And as a person?"
DeBarres thought for a moment. "It would be a cliche to say 'the daughter I wish I had,' but I'm damned if I can think of a better answer to your question, Rodrigo."
"Raul, what would you say if I told you she wants to hunt for Scarra and Kell."
DeBarres grinned. "I'd say she wouldn't be the Knight of the Swords I think she is if she didn't
want that."
"Would you let her?"
DeBarres closed his eyes for a moment and a shadow seemed to pass across his pockmarked features. "As the Preceptor of a Knight of the Swords, yes. As a man with a near-daughter… I don't know." He chuckled. "If I said that in front of her, she wouldn't be very happy."
"At being protected?"
"Exactly." DeBarres let out a long breath. "I'd regret it — not in the sense of fearing she'd fail, but in the sense of feeling guilty at sending her into danger, but yes, I'd let her go after Scarra and Kell. It'd be a damned harder thing to stop her from going."
"Of course there will be a hunt, that's not in question. But who do you have in mind to lead such a hunt?"
"That depends on what sort of hunt it is. If it were a full scale military operation with mounted patrols, then Brother Markus would be ideal."
Kesar shook his head. "Scarra and Kell aren't stupid and they have a lead on us. This won't be a chase across fields for a fleeing man, or a sweep through a city. The search will have to be more subtle."
"A select few Knights as muster-captains, working with observers and agents?"
"Exactly."
"Then there are several options, depending on how much ground needs to be covered. This close to the Anclas… They could even have gone across to Pontaine, either together, or they could split up. Andon isn't that far for some travellers with good horses." DeBarres thought for a moment. "Tomas Marek is Archimandrite of Andon; he's a former Preceptor of the Swords. I'll send a message to him, and see if he can assign some of his Knights to keep a watch out in Andon and the nearby border.
"I will make sure every Enlightened One and Walker in the Anclas knows who they're looking for."
"I'll pay a visit to Turnitia soon. The Brotherhood may have moved most of their centres to Freiport, but Turnitia's an old home to them. It wouldn't surprise me if either of them headed there to try to catch a ship somewhere."
"They'd be mad to try, given how tightly we now control that city, but then again they were mad to attempt this assassination." Kesar shrugged. "Very well, Raul, let us see how the Lord favours us, and begin the hunt in earnest."
"Who first?" Gabriella asked. She and Erak leaned against the battlements of Castle Kalten. The snow had melted, but fog had brought a damp chill to the town. They watched the grooms brushing down the horses they would soon use. "If we're permitted to take part?"
"Karel Scarra and permission is granted." It was DeBarres, poker-faced, but with a lightness in his eyes. "Every member of the Order will have their part to play in this manhunt. The Eminences and I think teams of Knights, soldiers and agents making quick and discreet visits will be best. I've decided that you two should lead one team of hunters. I'm assigning you four Knights and their men-at-arms." He thought for a moment. "Take Tanner, Karlsen, Oaks and Komo with you."
"What about the mercenary, Hasso? If he's accompanied Scarra on his travels, he might be able to guide us."
"He might also be a liar or a distraction, for all we know. Or willing to switch sides again for a larger purse. A one-off reward for information is one thing, but I don't trust him enough to hire him."
Gabriella nodded. "I'm thinking it would be useful if Scarra was taken alive? He must know a lot of names and faces."
"That would be my suggestion," DeBarres conceded, "The same goes for Kell, if you come across him in your hunt for Scarra. But I don't want anybody risking letting either of them escape for the sake of wanting him able to talk. Alive would be a bonus, but if it comes to a choice between a dead man telling us no tales and a living man getting away and prolonging the chase, you put him down, hard." He leaned against the wall between them. "I'll be taking a trip to show some force in Turnitia, and I'll have Markus on the coast and the Anclas, just in case we can catch him making his run for home. I want you two to go into Pontaine and check through the satellite towns around Andon, to find that vineyard that Hasso has told us about."
"And the Pontaine military?" Erak asked. "They haven't been very welcoming since the war."
"Be civil, but don't hold your breath waiting for assistance. But it may be that Hasso is fooling us all, and the real fugitives are in Freiport or somewhere already and you won't see either, but good luck anyway. And good hunting."
CHAPTER 5
Spring was still some weeks off, but away from the coast and further east into the rolling lands of Pontaine, the air was warmer. The trees lining the sides of the old pre-Imperial Highway between Turnitia and Andon were still bare in spite of the milder temperatures and insects were only just beginning to buzz around. The centuries-old cobbles were worn away in most places and overgrown by scrub grass. There was some mercenary traffic along the highway, but those bands all steered clear of the column of religious warriors.
Gabriella and Erak were riding at the head of a group of four mounted Knights of the Order of the Swords of Dawn and forty five men and women on foot. Each Knight had a Squire, and ten soldiers-at-arms as support, plus a sergeant-at-arms. While the Knights rode in front, their squires followed, then most of the soldiers-at-arms.
There was a straggly line of mercenaries camped by the side of the road into the small village of Hallam's Creek. There were a few houses, a couple of taverns, a small Faith church and a smithy all nestled around a well. There were mercenaries among the regular citizens, holding the reins of half a dozen tired-looking horses They wore a mixture of different styles of armour and their tabards bore the hammer insignia of a company from north of the Drakengrat. There were no Red Daggers among them.
Gabriella recognised the insignia as that of a reputable company and one which had fought alongside the Faith several times. While the Faith retainers sought out refreshments and tended to the animals, Gabriella and the other Knights went into the small church to pay their respects. The smell of incense and old stone was welcoming and comforting. There were a couple of mercenaries, unarmed and with bowed heads, sitting in the pews. As Gabriella watched, a mercenary came out of the confession chamber and left the church. The Enlightened One, in his blue robes, emerged a moment later, yawning.
"A long day, Enlightened One?" she asked.
The man nodded. "Very busy. The visiting mercenaries have upped my workload somewhat."
Gabriella noted that a couple more mercenaries were already lining up, ready to confess. "If you need any help…"
The Enlightened One grabbed at the chance. "Could you? I feel quite dry and the chance for a jug of water would be — "
"Don't worry about it," Gabriella said. Like all the Knights, she was qualified to perform any duty an Enlightened One could, if there was no Enlightened One available.
"I won't be long," the Enlightened One promised.
As he hurried off, Gabriella slipped into his place in the confession chamber. It was a small, bare, octagonal room, with two chairs and no other furniture. When one of the mercenaries entered a few moments later, he seemed surprised to meet a person in armour.
"Well met," Gabriella said. She gestured to the other chair. "Have a seat. Has it been an easy journey from wherever you've been?"
"Easy enough," the mercenary said. "We've just come up from Andon, and there isn't much traffic at this time of year. Plenty of other companies though. There are more mercenaries looking to take on escort duty than there are merchants needing guards."
"That's nothing new to the Anclas."
"True enough. Work has been getting thinner on the ground since peace broke out."
That was the price of peace, Gabriella supposed, but there was too much violence inherent in man's nature for peace to be universal. When the Faith guided man to unity with the Lord of All, then there would be peace, but for now there was always a fight somewhere. "You can't all be out of work."
"We're not selling off horses because we got sick of them, Enlightened Sister. We're selling them because we can't support them."
"I imagine that makes you a little jealous of companies who have contracts."
"Not half!"
"I hear the Red Daggers landed themselves a fat contract with a fat merchant…"
"Hah. The Red Daggers got lucky," he spat. "We passed what's left of them half a day out of here, with the bloated sheep who's managing to fleece them, instead of the other way round. Scabby, or something I think he was called."
Gabriella's ears pricked up at that, but she kept her expression neutral. "Scarra?"
The mercenary snapped his fingers, and nodded vigorously. "That was it! Some local landowner. Has a big fat belly he carries in front of him like a wheelbarrow."
Gabriella forced herself to seem no more than curious in passing. "Oh, I think I've heard of him. He has a vineyard somewhere outside of Andon, doesn't he?"
"Yeah, that's where they were heading for," the mercenary confirmed. "Down past Dead Tree Brook."
Inside, Gabriella was grinning. "Now, if you came in here, you must have sins you want to confess…"
The border between the Anclas and Pontaine proper was the White Saw. A fast-flowing river bordered by high rock walls, its frothy peaks cutting a deep gorge on its journey westwards. The Imperial Highway was supported by several bridges west of Andon and a detachment of the Swords crossed the thundering river by means of the Dwarf Bridge.
A small tower stood at the Pontaine end of the bridge. Erak halted the column as a few bored guards, wearing the tabards of Andon's standing army, came out to examine their credentials. Like all the Pontaine city-states the Lord of Andon paid for a private army, rather than drawing troops from a central force as Vos cities did with Imperial troops. Though the troops guarding Andon's lands were simply called the Andon Militia in official documents, the region's people tended to refer to them as the Border Brawlers. Gabriella couldn't help smiling as she remembered that from her youth. She had been a child not far from here, before her parents sent her to safety in Vos during the war.
The Faith was keen to maintain as much a presence in Pontaine as it did in the Empire and, as far as Gabriella was concerned the service of the Lord of All ought to be above such petty things as nationhood and politics, though she had no illusions about the practical truth of that matter. The proportion of Faith devotees among the population in Pontaine was, according to the best efforts of Faith scribes, about half that in the Empire. She wondered whether the Border Brawlers would try to talk the Knights out of proceeding towards Andon, for the simple reason that the Swords had fought on behalf of Vos in the last war. It was before her time in the Order, but Gabriella knew that people tended to harbour deep feelings about such things.
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