“I’m so daft,” murmured Heather in thanks. “I keep forgetting I’ve powers.”
James looked up and down the street. “The museum is up past a guard station. We are almost there. Three blocks.”
“Good, let’s go.”
They walked up the side of the street and turned a corner. Up ahead was a small square with a guard station on the far exit. Two guards were standing at the station looking around. They seemed alert, but relaxed, to James' eye. It was already well into summer, but the air was unseasonably cool due to the chill, northern wind off the ocean and so the men were wearing thick surcoats. They stirred on seeing James and the others and they said a few words to one another and watched them approach.
James stepped forward. “Good morning, I am Major James Dixon. How are you this evening?”
The guard on the right, a corporal by his rank insignia, was the one who spoke. “Morning, sir. How was your voyage?”
James froze for a heartbeat and then looked back quickly at Heather and Katherine before focusing in on the guard who spoke. “Do I know you, corporal?”
“No, sir,” came the gruff reply. The guards looked at one another.
“Then how do you know about my recent voyage?”
The corporal looked blankly back at James and then looked sideways at his companion. James spotted a bead of sweat tracking down his temple. James looked around quickly, but all seemed quiet.
James frowned and then scowled. Then he noticed the guard look past him toward something above and behind him. He looked up to the rooftops, thought James. That means...
James turned to the others to give warning when the air filled with weighted bolts. James knew what they were at once and knew he was too late. The Guard sometimes used special heavy-weight crossbows to fire bolts tipped with lead-filled balls of cloth. They used the bolts to subdue people without killing them, but with enough force to incapacitate. The idea in their use was to target the head and knock people out. They were rarely used and only when the people were worth questioning. Provided they survived the blow. Often the bolts killed the person. James caught the look of confusion on Heather’s face. He opened his mouth to cry out when he was struck in the head. He felt the ground reach up and pull him down into blackness.
* * *
The two guards rushed forward with saps after the crossbow volley and made sure the three people and the dog were indeed unconscious. The corporal rose and brought two fingers to his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Shadows emerged from nearby dark alleys and walked into the streetlight. The first was Eylene Kissane dressed in the robes of the Church of the New Order. Slightly behind her was a female draoi, wearing the plain lightly weaved brown cloth they often wore. The others behind them were clearly military, but with their armour covered by a tabard bearing the symbol of the church. In moments, other church guards, carrying thick crossbows and quivers filled with more of the same bolts, descended from the rooftops and joined the others.
Eylene nodded to the two city guards and handed them each a small bag of coin. They bowed their heads and disappeared quickly up the street and out of sight. Eylene turned to the draoi standing beside her. “Good work, Lana. It appears you have control over what powers other draoi can wield, or sense. You hid my people well.”
Lana Turner smiled a lop-sided smile. “My pleasure. Kennit has been a good teacher. We should hurry and place the collars on them. There’s no guarantee they will work.”
Eylene tutted. “Now, now. The device in the Chamber and the notes from Kevin Balfour were quite clear on how this would work. With the collars in place, I have full confidence they will not be able to reach their powers. We did test it on you, did we not?”
Lana grimaced. “Yes, you did. It was horrible. I will say it again; Katherine and Dog are unique draoi. Their powers are formidable. I cannot say for certain whether they can be contained. There is great risk here.”
“Noted, dear Lana. Which is why the herb mixture you have provided will be mixed with all they eat. Both the collar and the herbs should do the trick.”
“Pray that they do. The devastation Katherine and Dog levelled on Cala was frightening. Munsten would not survive. We really should examine Edward's journal. He knows more than anyone which herbs work best. Other than Will.”
“I'll see if I can get my hands on Edward's journal. Remember, it is not Munsten I am worried about. It is the souls of the people of Belkin. The draoi must be dealt with. I can't have them running around loose in the country and doing who knows what.”
Lana shot a glare at Eylene. “Those draoi, you mean.”
Eylene moved closer to Lana and cupped her face in her hands and bent in to give her a soft kiss. “Of course, my love. Those draoi. Not Kennit's group.”
“Good.”
Eylene turned to the Church guards and barked an order. "Collars."
Eylene watched as the senior member of the gathered church guard pulled out three intricately made metal collars from a leather bag. The collars were featureless and shone with a dull sheen. He pulled at one collar and it parted effortlessly and swung open on a hidden hinge. He moved to Katherine first and lifted her head and worked the collar opening around her neck and then closed the collar. A soft click was heard, and the guard moved aside.
Eylene crouched beside Katherine and looked at Lana. “I just touch the collar?”
“Yes, you press a finger anywhere against the metal and hold it a moment. You will hear a chime and that will be it. Only you will be able to remove the collar after that.”
“How does this work?”
“It is part of the power of the draoi. Will Arbor calls them the motes. We control them. The collars contain a small portion of the same motes. It doesn't need to be a collar, it could be anything really, but this way it cannot be removed. When you press your finger to the collar, it acknowledges you and the collar will be attuned only to you. No one can remove them, but you.”
“Can they not be cut off with force?”
Lana smiled. “Yes. But the results would be devastating. You’ve heard of the black powder?”
Eylene nodded.
“The collars are filled with it. Tampering with them would be disastrous.”
Eylene chuckled. “Good, good.” Eylene pressed her right index finger against the metal of the collar. She felt a tingle on her finger and then a soft chime was heard. Eylene made a soft, pleased sound and looked up to Lana.
“That’s it. It’s locked and tuned to you.”
Eylene smiled and looked at the Church guard. “Put the collars on the other woman and the dog. Tie up the man and then gag and bind them all. Make sure no one sees you bringing them into the dungeon.”
Eylene and Lana watched as Heather and Dog were collared. James and Katherine were gagged and bound at their hands and feet with metal shackles. Eylene moved forward and touched each collar and the chime sounded from each one. A moment later, a horse and covered cart was wheeled into the square and the four prisoners were dumped into the back. The cart pulled away and the senior of the Church Guard bowed to Eylene before ordering his guard to follow on foot behind the wagon. In moments, the street was clear and quiet.
Lana lightly touched Eylene's shoulder. “I still say you should kill them, right now. They are a threat. Kennit worries about them.”
Eylene shook her head. “Normally I would agree, but they were on a mission to discover the remains of King Hietower. I would know more of that first. Edward Hitchens can never be allowed to be King. He is a non-believer, and that is insufferable. My church will not be led by his ilk. Once I am Archbishop, I will deal with him. For now I thank God he cannot be confirmed as the rightful heir. I need to find the remains of the King and destroy them. I will replace the bones with the remains of gutter trash and remove him from any future thoughts of being crowned.
“No, we keep them alive. Besides, they may prove useful. Bairstow dotes on Dixon, and Will and Nadine have some kind of special relationship with Kath
erine. I would use that which will advance our goals no matter the cost. They are better left alive. So long as the collars keep their powers at bay they pose no threat.”
Lana tucked an arm around Eylene’s waist and then reached up and stroked the tip of her nose. “Yes, dear. You always were the smart one.”
Eylene grinned and the street light gave her a feral look, with shadowed eyes and a contrasting bright smile. Eylene felt Lana shiver up against her and pulled her tighter against her. “Let’s get out of the chill night air. You deserve a special treat after tonight.”
Lana grinned. “Oh, goody.”
Four
Munsten, July 902 A.C.
THE CHURCH GUARD escorted Brent Bairstow into the inner sanctum at the back of the Church of the New Order within Munsten Castle. He passed the icons of the Church and found peace. His faith had never been stronger. The past months had opened his eyes to the truth of the Church and God. The time in the dungeon when he had been held prisoner had strained his belief almost to the point of breaking. He had lain there a broken man certain his death was upon him. He had struggled with his faith. Martin didn’t know to what extent.
Brent had cursed God many times. In the ways only a seasoned army officer could. But he had prayed constantly as well. He had pleaded for help; certain his prayers would be answered. Brent had wielded the power of God on the battlefield. He remembered Jergen and how God had allowed his power to free both him and Steve Comlin. As he lay there, broken in the cell, he had lost hope for a time. It deeply shamed him to admit it. Even now, Martin continued to look at him as some kind of saviour, or warrior of God. Every time he did so, Brent cringed a little inside. His shame was killing him. It made him doubt every decision he made as Regent. He wasn’t worthy. And he knew it.
Brent had been coming to see Eylene every day for the past month. He had needed an outlet. Someone with whom he could confide his doubts. She listened to him and didn’t judge him. Eylene had even forgiven him and he had cried in her arms like a child. She knew his most secret inner doubts. How he hated his brother for throwing his life away trying to save him. And how he blamed himself for his death.
We never found his body. We buried him in the mausoleum in an empty tomb. He deserved better.
Eylene had insisted on the ceremony. By doing so they had cleared Frederick’s name and declared him a hero of the Realm. It had helped Brent accept his death a little more. But damn, I miss the bastard.
Eylene had been the one to suggest they meet regularly. She even went so far as to say that what Edward was saying about the health of the mind made sense to her. She said the Church was the best suited to helping people heal. Brent admitted pouring his concerns out to her was helping him. He felt his faith growing stronger. Eylene was quickly becoming a close friend and already a complete confidant. He looked forward to their sessions.
It didn’t hurt she was so beautiful. He could gaze at her perfection all day. She had a way of making you feel wanted. Appreciated. The touch of her finger sent a thrill through him. She touched him often, and he was so very conscious of it.
Brent stopped before the double doors and waited for the Church Guard to announce him. He stepped inside and the doors were closed behind him. Eylene sat behind the ornate Archbishop's desk. He looked around and could see she had made herself more at home. He noticed a small bed had been placed in the corner and was puzzled.
Eylene rose from the desk beaming a smile at Brent that caused all his thoughts to flee. She held out her hands and Brent grasped them warmly and squeezed. “Regent, so good to see you this morning! You are looking well. Did you sleep better last night?”
Brent nodded and smiled. He couldn’t help but smile at her bright eyes and perfect teeth. She shone. Her dark skin was so smooth, and unblemished. She looked radiant. She exuded femininity. And sexuality, he admitted to himself. Something about her stirs a feeling of desire in me. She always does. “Vicar Eylene, yes, I slept through the night. It was wonderful. I felt like a child asking for warm milk and honey, but it worked just as you suggested.”
She laughed brightly and withdrew her hands, letting them linger just a moment longer than seemed appropriate. She waved a hand over to the couch area near her desk and Brent made his way over to the familiar area.
The Archbishop’s office was a massive room compared to others in the castle. It was panelled from floor to halfway up the twelve-foot walls with rich oiled woods from all over Belkin. Above the wood, the walls were covered with priceless works of art. Carvings and Icons of the Church covered almost every inch of the walls and they were ancient and likely originals. Gold and silver gleamed everywhere Brent looked. A smell of something unfamiliar to Brent filled the air, but it was sweet and soothing, and he liked it. The office was more of a living space that shouted out for God to take notice.
The wealth in the room could feed half the starving people in Belkin for a year or more. This thought triggered a memory in Brent's mind. He had meant to ask Eylene how the distribution of the gold recovered from the Sect was faring. Martin had been so pleased to hand it over to the Church. Brent had heard nothing about it since. I’ll ask later.
The couch area was something Eylene had added once she moved in. She had told Brent that talking across a desk was counter to her beliefs and not something people from Shape did. When dealing with people, she wanted them close and comfortable. She felt the need to better relate to people and the couch, for her, opened doors.
Brent settled on one end of the couch and watched as Eylene crossed over and lowered herself down at the other end. She drifts across the room with such elegance, I wonder how she does that. The people from Shape have a way about them. And they keep to themselves for the most part. It’s rare to see someone from Shape elsewhere in the Realm. Brent had a stray thought. I don’t think there’s a single person from Shape in the military. Strange that…
Eylene interrupted Brent’s thoughts by reaching out and touching his knee. “You’re staring at me again, Brent.”
He started and realised he had been staring. “I’m so sorry, Eylene, I’m lost in thought again. Did you say something?”
Eylene laughed a bright clear laugh. “No, dear. Not this time. Now tell me, what do you want to talk about, today?”
Brent felt his cheeks burning. He felt a familiar shame and guilt rise within him. It was always so hard to start talking. He looked away.
“Brent, we’ve been over this before. You are safe here. Tell me what worries you.”
Brent took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’m feeling stronger in my faith, Eylene. I no longer doubt myself. As much. You’ve helped me with that. God moves in mysterious ways, they say. I just thought… well, I thought perhaps there would be more. That God would speak to me again since that day in the dungeons. I know He is there, but He refuses to talk to me. I feel that I am failing Him. Like I am failing the people of Belkin and he doesn’t approve.”
Brent caught a glimmer of an expression cross Eylene's face. He would have called it anger, but he was sure he imagined it. She smiled at him and he relaxed.
“God does not work in that way. That he spoke to you at all is a miracle. He had a need for you to listen and He did wondrous things with you. You should bask in that attention. Those of us that work for the Church for our whole lives will never have that opportunity.”
“Martin has been fortunate.”
Brent was certain he saw annoyance cross Eylene’s features, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, our Vicar Martin. He has spoken often of his experiences. To anyone who would listen. Repeatedly.”
“Martin is a man of great faith.”
“Yes, he is. We are well aware of Martin’s faith.”
Brent waited for Eylene to say more but she remained silent. “He’s a good friend. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Yes, you have.”
Brent shifted in his seat. He had often watched Eylene change the subject when it came to di
scussing Martin. He didn’t know why. Today he would ask for more. He had to understand her clear misgivings, but for now he would focus on the Realm. “I’ve received reports that the Church Guard is helping in the villages and cities. Thank you for your assistance. You are accomplishing what my people could not.”
“That is the power of the Church, as you know, Brent. We reach the people through God and not through force. We stroke rather than strike. Reason is not a far-fetched idea! I’ve seen the reports and more. My own people report directly to me. What they see and hear. But I’m afraid not all is as well as they report.”
“How so? I'm not hearing anything dire. Just the opposite in fact.”
“Ah yes, well perhaps that is the price of being the Regent and head of the government. People may not be as forthcoming with news that is not good.”
Brent scowled. “I have always been an approachable person. In the military the men and women often spoke frankly to me.”
“You are no longer that military man, Brent. It is the weight of authority. It doesn’t matter. You have the Church and you have me. I will always share our news. I would have brought this to you earlier, but I knew you had not been resting.”
Brent felt unbalanced. Part of him felt that something was not quite right. He was surrounded by people he barely knew who all owed him their allegiance by his position. But I feel like they are working behind my back. Doing things I would not approve of. Curse this position. Edward needs to take the throne as soon as possible. Brent sighed. “Tell me.”
Eylene rose and went to her desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out a thick file. She laid it on the low table in front of Brent and went over to the sideboard. Brent opened the file and began to read the contents. He heard the clink of crystal as Eylene poured them drinks.
What he read was no real surprise. Reading this report and mentally recalling the details of similar reports he could see where certain facts were being left out of what he was seeing. They were minor deviances, but altogether it spoke of great unrest still in the land. The people had no respect for him as Regent. His edicts were almost immediately being rejected. The army was being accused of using violence to subdue innocent protestors. It was a mess. The Church Guard was having much greater success it seemed. People trusted them when they refused to support an army that until just recently had worked for Healy. While the army trusted Brent and knew him, the people did not.
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