Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  Dugan sat in stunned silence as the rest of the assemblage was doing. Malvin’s speech was beyond provocative. How did he think to remove Julia from the world? Malvin had shied from actually using the word execution, but still it had resounded through the hall. No one could fail to know what was meant. Malvin’s words were tantamount to saying that Julia should be killed. There was no other way to remove her presence from the world.

  “I would like to say something in answer to Malvin’s words,” Dugan said when no one spoke up. “We are here to judge whether Lady Julia is guilty of heresy. No other reason. It is not the place of this conclave to judge her worthiness in the eyes of the God, or her supposed violation of nature. All here know she commands the God’s power, but again this is irrelevant to the issue at hand. Is she, or is she not, a heretic. That is the whole of the question before us.”

  “Here, here! About time someone put the record straight!”

  Those words seemed to signal a free for all. Questions were voiced and answered in one breath. Some were amusing and chuckles erupted from all sides, others were more serious. Dugan listened to everything trying to gauge the mood of his brothers. Farran would ask him later.

  “…but surely it all stems from her being brought here? How can it not have a bearing—”

  “…always chooses men, it’s traditional—”

  “Who are we to say? Will you tell the God he cannot choose a woman to represent—”

  “…foolishness. She must be brought before us, it’s the only way to be—”

  “How would you like to be the one to tell her?”

  “Send the Red Guard. The lazy beggars have little enough to do—”

  Dugan grinned. Julia was headstrong by all accounts, and powerful with it. No one would dare to tell her anything of the sort. He listened for anything useful, but took matters in hand when comments began repeating.

  “Order! Order I say!” Dugan said and his brothers quieted. “I believe Patriarch Karel has something he wishes to say. Karel?”

  “Yes, indeed I do,” Karel said making his way to the patterned floor. He positioned himself in the exact centre of the God’s circle and turned to survey his brothers. “How many here believe Lord Mortain is the voice of the God on this Earth?”

  Silence.

  “None of you?” Karel said in apparent surprise. “Forgive me, but anyone listening to us debate the merits of Julia’s presence in Deva could not help but wonder if perhaps we supported the man in his blasphemy. The sorceress is here. How she came is, in my humble opinion, irrelevant to our discussion. Instead, I would draw your attention to another issue. Lord Mortain styles himself the voice of the God—blasphemy we all agree. By his people’s acceptance of the lie they are led into heresy. Julia arrives, but does she help the Hasian heretics conquer? Indeed she does not. Instead, Lady Julia fights with our people and throws the Hasians back. Julia’s alignment with us shouts her innocence. None have seen or heard her utter one heretical word, none have seen her practising heretical doctrine, but they have seen her fight and save thousands of Devan lives. Not one piece of evidence will you find against her, yet there is a fistful of evidence in her favour. She is innocent, it is obvious.”

  Karel slowly ascended the tiers and sat in his seat.

  Dugan took advantage of the lull. “My stomach tells me it is getting late. I suggest we adjourn for the night and return refreshed on the morrow.”

  “Good idea—”

  “I could eat.”

  “I’m starving… I mean…”

  “It’s all right, my friend. We know what was meant.”

  “But all those poor people.”

  Dugan nodded to himself sadly. Those poor, poor people. They truly did know what starvation was, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. Devarr was a city of many thousands. How could he even hope to feed a fraction of those in need?

  He couldn’t.

  Dugan followed his brothers out of the hall, but he had lost his appetite. He decided to use the time walking and meditating. Perhaps, if he thought long and hard enough, an answer might come.

  * * *

  6 ~ The Pestilence

  Julia rode beside Keverin as they approached Devarr. The city should have impressed her, and it would have at any other time, but what she had seen on the journey had dampened any enthusiasm she could summon. Julia couldn’t shake the image of starving children from her thoughts. It had broken her heart to leave them in Hringham like that, but they had to reach Devarr quickly to solve the problem at its source.

  She looked back as they entered the gates of the city. Jihan’s Captain Echion led a thousand Malcor guardsmen in a column that stretched out the open gate behind her. Brian led a similar number from Athione all in armour, some armed with bows, but all had iron swords. Marcus had been left at home with a solid core of veteran guardsmen, each armed with steel left behind by the Hasians. Athione boasted more guardsmen than ever these days, but only a third were veterans of the Hasian invasion last year. Marcus had nearly five thousand guardsmen to hold the fortress, which would be more than enough against any mundane attack, but Julia was still worried. If the Hasians took this opportunity to invade, she wouldn’t have time to reach the fortress to stop them.

  “I noticed,” Keverin said.

  “What?” Julia said puzzled.

  “No gatekeeper,” Keverin said hooking a thumb toward the gates. He pointed along the deserted wall, “No one on guard. That was what you were looking at wasn’t it?”

  She followed his gestures but shook her head. “Actually no. I was thinking about Marcus and the Hasians. Kev, are you sure five thousand will be enough?”

  Keverin shrugged and patted Cavell. She snorted and shook her head at something that had annoyed her. “No, but it’s a calculated risk. We know General Navarien is campaigning to the north, and Mortain lost an entire legion to the fire last year. Being a conquered nation doesn’t sit well with the Bandarians. Mortain needs to hold back his other legions in case of a rebellion.”

  “Do you think Bandar will rise?”

  Keverin snorted. “Not a chance. Mortain won’t take the risk though. Nor would I in his position. Sending the only forces capable of putting down a revolt would be stupid, and by all accounts, Mortain is far from a stupid man. No, he will build another legion to add to Navarien’s, maybe more than one.”

  “I agree,” said Jihan. “Bandarians aren’t very bright when all is said, but even they know not to try anything with three legions hanging about.”

  Julia frowned. They seemed so sure, but surely even three legions couldn’t hold a country the size of Bandar. “Can’t they send the militia from the cities?”

  “They’re only used for holding actions, not true warfare. Think of them as a Guardia, Julia. Brigands would be unable to match them, but put them against real legionnaires or even our guardsmen, and they wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  Julia nodded. Guardia were like police officers, they kept the peace and enforced the laws. They were not truly soldiers and didn’t go to war. Keverin had never needed them in his towns. They were crime free in the main. The odd bit of pilfering that went on was taken care of locally by the town council. If ever they came across something they couldn’t handle, they would send to the fortress for help or call upon Keverin’s patrols of the highroads. The last time they had done so, Keverin had led five hundred guardsmen to search for a man who had accidentally killed his wife while drunk. They found him hanging from a tree. He had killed himself when he realised what he’d done.

  Julia frowned at the dirty rubbish-filled street ahead. Gylaren had described his experiences in Devarr to her last year. He said many of the houses were abandoned, which she could see was true. They had once been well cared for, but many of them had slates missing from the roofs now, and broken shutters banging in the slight breeze. She gagged at the stench wafting from them. A cold feeling settled into her stomach.

  “Stop!” Julia shouted in sudden panic.<
br />
  Keverin and Jihan threw up a hand. Down the line, orders were shouted to halt the column. All was quiet except for the stamping of an occasional hoof and the creaking of leather as Jihan looked for an enemy to charge. Finding nothing, he looked toward Julia with a question in his eyes.

  “Lady?”

  Julia didn’t answer. Invoking her mage sight, she scanned her surroundings. In the realm of healing, she could see energy swirling next to her, and when she looked, behind her as well. Each aura represented a living person. Nothing solid existed here, nothing except those swirling auras. Instead of houses, there was nothing but a pale mist glowing faintly as it drifted by. She turned to check her other side and gasped. There were at least three people in that house… dying.

  Julia swallowed bile. “We have a problem.”

  “What is it?” Jihan said looking worriedly around.

  “I think… plague.”

  “The pestilence?” Keverin whispered trying to keep the news from the men.

  “I can’t be sure,” she said watching the sickly pulsing auras in the house. The breeze picked up again and she covered her nose. “If there are unburied bodies in those houses—”

  “Pray the God it’s not so,” Jihan said.

  Julia nodded fervently. “We need to check every house, every place where people might live. If there’s plague… if there is, we have to burn the bodies and fumigate the houses.”

  “Fumigate?” Jihan said puzzled.

  “Plague is carried by fleas on the back of rats, but fleas can live in bedding and elsewhere long after the rat dies. I don’t know if magic will cure the pestilence—”

  Keverin shook his head. “It won’t. The Histories talk of mages burning entire towns to stop its spread.”

  “We can’t burn Devarr!” Jihan shouted in outrage.

  “Keep your voice down!” Julia hissed, but it was too late. She heard the word being spread down the line.

  “Burn Devarr—”

  “Why does she want to do that?”

  “Don’t know why we should—”

  “…might be pestilence—”

  “Pestilence!”

  “The pestilence is loose in Devarr!”

  “THE PESTILENCE! We have to get away!”

  “GIDEON!” Keverin roared.

  Gideon urged his horse forward. “My lord, is it true? Has the pestilence struck Devarr?”

  “We don’t know yet, but one thing is certain, there are many dead here. You can smell it.”

  “What would you have of me, my lord?”

  Keverin sighed in relief. “Thank you, Gideon. I want you to calm my people’s fears while I investigate.”

  The bishop nodded eagerly. “I will lead them in prayer my lord.”

  “Good.” Keverin dismounted and handed the reins to Burke who was waiting to receive them. “As soon as I know the truth, I will tell both you and them.”

  Father Gideon called for prayers and the men fell silent in obedience. Calm descended while Gideon gave forth heartfelt prayers for the people of Devarr.

  “That should hold them for a time,” Keverin said. “Jihan, you take the right I’ll take the left.”

  Julia broke in. “Don’t touch anything! Nothing at all. The fleas can be spread by touch.”

  Both she and Mathius climbed down to follow Keverin. When he saw her following, he started to forbid her. She quickly grasped her magic and raised her shield. He regarded her for a moment before finally acquiescing with a nod.

  Julia was sure the shield would protect her from the fleas. She had hardened it against everything she could think of, including air. Last year she had nearly suffocated when she built a shield like this, but she knew the dangers now. She would let air back in after she was clear. Keverin pulled on his gauntlets and tried the latch on the door. It was locked. Stepping back, he gave the door an almighty kick. The door flew open and re-bounded to slap his outstretched palm. The stench pouring out of the house was overpowering. Keverin staggered to the side and spewed.

  Thanking the God for her airtight shield, Julia edged into the darkened room with Mathius close on her heels. Using her magic, Julia increased its flow to her shield in order to make it glow brighter. Blue light flooded the room and revealed the first emaciated form. It was…had been a woman. The body had decayed too much to be sure of how she had died. Using her mage sight, Julia scanned the room looking for the three auras she had seen earlier, and found them lying in their own filth in a corner. Tears ran over Julia’s cheeks as she approached the pile of misery. She hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t see signs of plague. She lifted the boy from his mother’s arms with her magic and looked into the half open eyes. They were still clear blue and half open. He was awake, but he had no energy to move or even make a sound. She flooded him and his family with magic to strengthen them, and then with her normal vision she looked for swellings under the arms and between the legs.

  “Oh thank God for his everlasting mercy,” Julia breathed when she saw no sign of swelling.

  “We’re saved!” Mathius said prayerfully.

  “Not yet,” Julia warned. She laid the child down and went to the door. Keverin was standing just outside watching her. “It’s not plague. Not here at least.”

  Jihan came back white faced from his scouting. “They’re all dead. Not plague, thank the God. There isn’t enough food for the rats—”

  “I think there’s plenty in these houses now, Jihan. Don’t you?” Julia said. She had dropped her shield and her eyes were dry now. They burned with anger. The King had done this. That bastard son of a bitch should have been taken off the throne last year. She had told them—she had told them and they hadn’t listened.

  Keverin looked away from her accusing eyes. “I didn’t know. How could I have known?”

  “Now do you see?”

  Keverin and Jihan nodded grimly.

  Keverin went to speak with the men, and after a moment, Brian began detailing them to search the area for more sick people. In the meantime, Julia was considering the enormity of the task that faced her. Devarr had a population orders of magnitude greater than Athione. How could she care for so many people?

  “Mathius, how long for Lucius to get here do you think?”

  “No way to tell. He could be here tomorrow, but he might not reach us for tendays.”

  “Let’s hope it’s tomorrow,” Julia said. “We need somewhere to work. Somewhere big.”

  “The warehouse district,” Jihan said. “We can empty as many as you need.”

  Keverin walked back to Julia and his friend. “I’ve ordered a search of every building. I hope you don’t mind me ordering your men as well, Jihan?”

  Jihan shook his head as he stared at the houses. His face was pinched as he recalled what he had found inside.

  Julia took immediate charge. “The dead will be burned at once. All bedding and clothes—anything found with the bodies—must be burned with them. The sick will be brought to the warehouse district. I think there will be room there, I hope there will be.”

  Devarr had a population in the region of a hundred and fifty thousand. Rather it used to have. Who knew how many still lived?

  * * *

  Keverin rode grimly beside Jihan with a small detachment of guardsmen at his back. He had left Julia with Mathius and Brian setting up what she called a hospital in an empty warehouse. They were all empty. His mother was helping as if she did this sort of thing everyday. Never had he been so proud of her. She hadn’t batted an eyelid. The warehouses were perfect for their needs. Those gigantic buildings would normally store enough food for every person in Devarr for two years. It seemed Chancellor Morfran had not only plundered the rest of the kingdom when he taxed everything beyond endurance, he had also sold Devarr’s grain and food reserves for gold. Keverin could hardly contain his wish to charge Cavell to the palace and confront the evil bastard.

  “I’m going to gut that scum sucking…” Keverin snarled, but words failed him. Jihan jum
ped and looked at Keverin in surprise. “I’m not too old to lose my temper, Jihan!”

  Jihan grinned. “You’ll have to wait. I have first claim,” he said nudging Jezy a little faster.

  Keverin did the same, and Cavell eased into a trot. Any faster would be dangerous on the cobbled streets. He looked into the alleys as they rode by hoping not to find people in need, but he was ready nonetheless. He saw and heard nothing except the clip clopping of hooves, and piles of festering rubbish.

  “My Lord!” Burke shouted in alarm.

  Keverin swayed out of the way of a thrown dagger and lost his seat. He crashed to the cobbles shouting and cursing in surprise. Cavell stopped as she was trained to do, and looked back at him as if wondering what he was playing at. Roaring in fury Keverin climbed to his feet only to dive under a hasty slash from a peasant’s sword. The man should properly be called a brigand, but whatever he was, he was cursed dangerous. Bent his sword might be, but it looked wickedly sharp. The ring of good steel, and the duller clang of flawed iron, spoke of Jihan engaged. Burke was fighting his way forward, but his opponent was just as determined to stop him.

  Keverin flicked his blade at the peasant’s eyes. The man moved to parry, and Keverin lunged. The scream gave him no satisfaction. It wasn’t like the fight against the Hasians last year. These men were as much Devan as he was. He left the peasant trying to crawl away dragging his guts behind him on the cobbles. There were at least twenty brigands. Keverin had eight men including himself and Jihan. It wasn’t fair to the peasants, but battle was seldom fair. He lopped a brigand’s head off in passing and then engaged another man he believed might be the leader of this little gang. He was a young man, certainly no older than Jihan. He was the only one wearing armour. Where he had found it, Keverin hated to think. Probably some hapless guardsmen from the palace, he decided. Armour didn’t make a man invulnerable, but it did allow him to take some chances that would otherwise be suicidal.