The Ossard Series (Books 1-3): The Fall of Ossard, Ossard's Hope, and Ossard's Shadow.

by Colin Taber

  “You belong here with me and Maria and your coming son.”

  He moved to take one of my hands, something I barely noticed. I was too stunned by what he was saying.

  “I want to help them take back the city. I need to fight against the corruption that has taken our home.”

  “Our home is here.”

  “No, this is just a shelter. We need to take Ossard and free it.”

  “Pedro, haven’t you been listening to what’s been said? The Inquisition will fail in what they’ve come to do.” I was incredulous.

  “There are others who also wish to go.”

  I was stunned beyond words.

  He went on, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to hurt you, but I seem to have spent my whole life doing that or preparing for such a thing. I just want to help right the wrong I was part of so long ago, to win our home back for all of us, including your people.”

  “Pedro...”

  “I’m sorry to surprise you with this, but you’ve been so busy and had so much on your mind. I could never find the right time to talk to you, but now that the Black Fleet is here, I can see that I have to tell you.” He let go of my hand.

  My tears began to flow. “When did you want to go?”

  “When the Inquisition is ready to move. I also want to take those that wish to go.”

  “How many is that?”

  “About a hundred, perhaps more will join us when they hear.”

  I shook my head. “It’ll be the death of you!”

  He tensed and his eyes hardened. “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’ll come back.”

  -

  Grenda and I sat beside each other upon the mint lawn of the high ledge, both lit by the soft light of the coming sunset. From there we surveyed the canyon and the silver elm circle that marked the heartwood – well, had until today, for now the mother tree itself rose thin but thickening to be visible above the surrounding elms’ naked branches. The sight put Grenda in good spirits, but it wasn’t enough to make me forget my troubles.

  “So, you wish to send Sef off to see Dorloth?”

  “And Anton, too.”

  “I can understand the first part, but not the latter, yet that’s your choice to make. If you think it wise, do it.”

  “But you think it unwise?”

  “Oh, Juvela, you know I’m still bitter towards that man, but you’re probably right, and I’m just too blinded by my own past with him to see your sense. Send him and let him prove himself. But he’s not the only thing you came to speak of; you’re sending other things away. I can feel how troubled you are by all of it.”

  I looked deep into her eyes. She had an uncanny ability for reading people, and it was just her own senses that did it, not some kind of magical gift. “I want to send one of the rosetree seeds away, to a place I believe it’ll be safe, somewhere over the sea.”

  “Where and with what escort?”

  “To the Praagerdam.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why do you insist on always surprising me!”

  I gave up a soft laugh. “Do I have your blessing?”

  “First, tell me more about this lucky seed’s proposed outing?”

  “The Praagerdam, or what it once was, is now mostly in the hands of the Lae Velsanan noble family of House Jenn...”

  “Of which, one of their sons is here, on the ship moored alongside our walls.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you trust him, this squat Lae Velsanan rogue?”

  “He’s friendly and means well. His House has also risked much in taking back the Praagerdam where it works to honour the memory of the Flets and atone for the sins of Def Turtung.”

  “So he says?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “He moors here every season, yet the Prince hasn’t worked to expel him. I find that strange.”

  “Ah, the Prince.” She gave in and smiled. “Another squat rogue!”

  I laughed.

  Grenda went on, “He also trusts Felmaradis. He insists that something good lays at his core, that he is Grae.”

  “Grae?”

  “It means deep and integral or strong in trust. They called me ‘of the Grae’ when I first arrived. It’s just a turn of phrase from their tongue, a compliment. I think it’s related to that confirmation they’re always whispering, you’d know the one; grae ru.”

  “And me, with all my complications, I suppose I’m far from being of the Grae?”

  She looked away, and as I waited for her to answer, I realised just how much I was hoping to hear that I’d also earned such favour. Finally, she shook her head. “Perhaps, but they’ve not mentioned it.”

  “Oh.”

  Seeing my disappointment, she added, “They don’t seem to think that you or your people will be here long enough to need such honours. They do talk of you, but only as a welcomed guest who’ll move on in time.”

  “What, they know this, they’ve seen it?”

  “Juvela, they’re dead: They can see things, many things, that they’re neither bound to nor supposed to share.”

  “So, I’ve lived here for nearly a season, but am just a guest, yet Felmaradis, who passes through for a few days a year, is of the Grae?”

  “Don’t be offended. They work in different ways to us, both in how they show their appreciation and how they measure time. They feel Felmaradis is important to this place, though I don’t know why.”

  I took a deep breath and calmed myself. “Sorry, but it is strange.”

  “Indeed, yet you tell me you want to give one of the seeds to him, so now, perhaps it all makes sense. Maybe the Prince knew this day would come. Maybe Felmaradis is Grae because he is to bear the seed away and nurture a new land of rosetrees in the west?”

  “Did you know he was raised by Flets, by a lady named Una?”

  “Yes, I’ve heard.”

  “From the Prince?”

  She smiled. “In the words of the big spectre; grae ru!”

  We sat in silence for a while, both taking in the view. To the west the sun continued sinking, beginning to slip beneath the lip of the canyon, the depths of which were already lost to shadow.

  Grenda broke the silence. “Well, if you think it important, give him one of the seeds. Just tell him to care for it lest an old Flet hag come after him – and it won’t be his praised Una!”

  I laughed.

  “I’m sorry for my bitterness, but I’ve suffered along with so many others in the past and find it hard to let go of those painful memories.”

  “Yes, but don’t we need to look to the future, to let go of the poisonous emotions that hold us back?”

  She thought about my words and then offered a nod. “You’re right, of course. Even though you carry your own curse, you also carry wisdom. And it’s your accursed addiction that, I suppose, sees you send Sef to Dorloth instead of you going with him?”

  “Yes, I’m too afraid to leave here.”

  “Afraid?”

  “Of my deep hunger, of what it’ll do if disturbed.”

  “Your will is strong and combines well with the efforts of the Prince, but together, they only work to calm your hunger, not cure it. I’m glad you understand the limits of such things. It wouldn’t take much to upset your fragile balance.”

  I was saddened by the truth and that such a thing should haunt me. Tears began to run, slowly, but hotly falling from my cheeks into the folds of my dress. “I’m sorry I gave in to the temptation!”

  She put an arm about my shoulders as she held me close. “Life is not an easy thing; it’s a place of trials that come amidst pleasure and pain. No path is easy to walk, whether that of an infant doomed to die before weaning off her mother’s milk or an ancient lord. All will taste torment before meeting their ends.”

  Feeling as though I had permission to release my misery, my sobs only doubled and then redoubled to grow rough and harsh.

  “Care now, take care!”

  My misery deepened.r />
  “What is it, Juvela? Something else is hiding in your heart?”

  “Pedro is also going on a journey, one I fear he’ll not return from.”

  She was confused. “Pedro? Where?”

  “He wishes to join the forces gathering about the Black Fleet.”

  “What?”

  And like me, for that, I could see she had no answer.

  -

  That night we sat in one of the common rooms listening to the recounting of the tale of what had happened at the Loyalist camp. Baruna and Sef had both asked if such an open venue was a good place to hear such news, but I felt it was important for me to be seen and for the truth to be free. There were only two topics I wanted to keep private; matters of my family and my addiction.

  If those gathered were to hear that the Inquisition had branded me a damned witch that would be nothing new. It wasn’t something to be hidden. In fact, I felt that for those about me to hear such nonsense would only strengthen my own standing, for they knew enough about me to know I was no demonic threat.

  So, as we sat by the great hearth we heard the telling of what ran to be the same tale, but from three different tongues. The first to speak was a Heletian man of middle years. “The Loyalists came here after hearing word of the arrival of the Black Fleet. That word was being passed on by some of the very agents the Sidian had put ashore in previous days. As those agents have made their way along the roads to look upon Ossard, they’ve also spread word of the Inquisition’s gathering force.”

  His fellows nodded.

  One of the others, a Heletian lady of grey years, spoke. “They didn’t like having to come into the same vale as us, yet most of them are in such dire need that they had little choice and have arrived hoping for their Church’s aid.”

  The original speaker agreed. “Many of them told of leaving their weakest to die along the road. Some of them are ill, most hungry, but all exhausted.”

  The woman added, “A lot have been forced out from other towns and hamlets across the vales, even those that consider themselves to be Loyalist.”

  I asked, “Because of the hardships of winter?”

  “Yes, and also overcrowding and disease.”

  “And so what of their camp?”

  The middle-aged man answered, “There’s certainly many hundreds of them there. None of them are well fed or in good health. Of course, despite all the hardships they’ve endured, their spirits have soared at the sight of the Sidian.”

  A murmur rippled about me, built from the discomfort many felt at having to share our vale. Still, I could see that it wasn’t a feeling shared by all. As Pedro had said, there were others here who didn’t see the Loyalists as a threat. Whether that was because of a common heritage of a fallen city, or a wavering allegiance to me, or just a desire to take back what had been stolen, there were some here who wouldn’t react well to the Loyalists being bad-mouthed. Not at all.

  With that, bitterly, I realised that my own people were divided.

  I should have focussed more on them, instead of becoming obsessed with my own ills. I’d left too much to take care of itself, or in the too full hands of Baruna, Kurt, Pedro and Angela.

  I spoke to silence the murmurs, “You’ve given us a good summary of how they came to be here and their condition, but now tell us what’s been said?”

  The grey woman looked to the others and spoke, “They were greatly excited by the presence of the Inquisitor, even the sickest and weakest of them seemed renewed. He’d already arrived there by the time we managed to make it.

  “His name is Inquisitor Louis, an outleaguer from Burvoy. He seemed initally suspicious in his enquiries about where all the ragged people on the beach had come from, but even more so of what had happened to Ossard and how it had come to fall so low. He took particular interest in what news the crowd had of those who’d fled the city, particularly those now living in our ruin.”

  She looked about at those gathered, as if she’d also sensed the growing split. “What they told Inquisitor Louis about all of us who live here was neither complimentary nor true. Their words were nothing but a web of exaggeration, gossip and outright lies.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The Loyalists were generous in giving him all the information he could want, though little of it was true. They told of proclamations made against you and your part – as they claimed – in the tragedy of the city’s fall.”

  The third of our agents, a young Heletian man, spoke up to offer the rest in a gruff tone, “Questions followed about Inquisitor Anton, though the crowd was surprised to hear from Inquisitor Louis that he was alive. Their surprise turned to revulsion when they heard he’d escaped imprisonment with one of our own, and then sought to visit our ruin almost daily. The news angered them.”

  I asked, “And did the Inquisitor have any other questions?”

  He answered, “Only of the Lae Velsanan ship moored in the sound and why it should be there. The Loyalists knew little for certain, except that they blamed Our Lady for most of their hardships, including the fall of the city, the corruption of Anton, and even the chill of winter.”

  “So, I’m blamed for all the ills of the world?”

  “Yes,” the middle-aged Heletian answered, “everything, including rumours of a sickness that’s spreading back in the city, despite the fact that you’re no longer there.”

  I looked about my audience, crowded deep into the hall. There must have been six or seven hundred people, perhaps even more. Their eyes shone in the dim room, catching the light of the four lanterns and the hearth fire that burned hard, but still left much of the large chamber lost to gloom.

  “We’ve been through much and will no doubt see further trials ahead. Such hard words from the ignorant don’t bother me, but we mustn’t rise to their barbs, for while we’re safe behind our hosts’ walls, we’ll need to leave them eventually, even if it’s just to harvest our crops in summer.”

  A murmur of agreement sounded.

  An Heletian man stood and asked, “What if they move to take the city and we wish to help?”

  His question brought a silence that was almost complete.

  I asked, “Help, in what way?”

  “Well, by taking to the field to fight. I mean no disrespect, but I’ve no skills that are needed here, and I miss my home. If the Inquisition is going to lead a campaign to take back Ossard, then I’d like to offer my services.”

  “Are you not happy here?”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s that Ossard’s my home and I want it back. If that means taking up a sword alongside the Inquisition, then I’ll do it.”

  Pedro spoke, “Any who wish to aid such an expedition are free to leave, but we will work our departure in with Juvela’s plans, and to what gives both the Inquisition its best chance of success and serves the needs of those who remain here.”

  The man asked, “So, we’ll be free to go and return?”

  Pedro answered, but not before looking to me, “Of course. I myself am planning to lead an expedition. You need not fear being barred from returning, for I’ll also be coming back to rejoin my family.”

  Surprised whispers filled the dim room. Despite the dark, I could feel many eyes upon me, so many that I felt obliged to force a smile and nod my agreement.

  Far from settling things, my actions stirred voices and saw confusion bloom. That wasn’t what I wanted; the entering of doubt into the ruin. In fact, despite Pedro’s plans, I wouldn’t stand for it.

  I stood up and waited for my motion to deliver some quiet before I spoke, “Tonight marks a turning point for all of us, a breaking, if you will, of our joint purpose. Some of us will in the coming days travel east and some west, while yet others remain. None will be forced to go or stay, or to do anything that they won’t be party to. I hope that in the future we’ll all strive to be together again.

  “This parting of our grand family begins tonight with one of our number who’s only so recently returned.” I tu
rned to Sef to see him nod. He’d known as I had in listening to the tale of the happenings on the beach that Anton needed our help, and now. “If there are any who hold doubts it’s time to speak, for we’re about to enter the hardest part of Ossard’s fall: The time when plans will be put in motion to set it free.”

  Chapter 21

  -

  Hope Spreads Her Wings

  -

  Sef and I shared a bench on the higher terrace overlooking the night-shrouded sound. It was a peaceful view, if chill, but a much more relaxing venue compared to the common rooms that now buzzed with hundreds of conversations as people talked of the changes that’d been announced. I was still uncomfortable with some of what I’d said and what had been set in motion, but Pedro had given me little choice.

  If he wanted to go and fight as part of the Inquisition’s campaign, I could try and make him see sense, but couldn’t stop him. Not without shaming him as he laboured to restore his pride. That being the case, I had to work whatever his final actions were into our overall plans. The same went for Sef – well, in some ways – for I actually needed him to go. But it still hurt to send him.

  I’d not even got used to having him back!

  Sef’s voice dragged me from my thoughts. “Don’t blame yourself for any of this.”

  “For what?”

  “For Pedro wanting to leave or for sending me away.”

  I looked out into the sound, as I stilled my tongue, fighting the impulse to deny that those had been my very thoughts.

  He knew me too well – or was reading me through our bond.

  I sighed and said, “Pedro wanting to leave took me by surprise, but I suppose it shouldn’t have. He’s never liked being forced into the background. Sooner or later he was always going to find an opportunity to take back some control.”

  Sef nodded. “He’s been watching for a chance since he returned from that monastery all those years ago. It’s taken this long, and more importantly the threat to Maria, to make him finally gather the strength and stand tall. I think he also feels the need to fix things, things he thinks he had a hand in breaking.”

  “You mean back in Ossard; of cults and kidnappings?”