by Roger Taylor
There was a moment of hesitation in which the Knight took in Skynner's lowering bulk, and the hand resting on his baton, then with a markedly ill grace he pulled off his mask and motioned the others to do the same.
As the surly features of the young men emerged, Skynner nodded. ‘That's better,’ he said. ‘Now I know who I'm talking to—Troidmallos's finest, part of Yanos's little band of heroes. I wonder if Brother Cassraw really knows who's getting into his precious Knights?'
'They're all exhausted,’ Nertha whispered to Vredech as she took in their sunken eyes and drawn features.
'They're all leaving,’ Skynner said, catching part of Nertha's remark. ‘Go on, clear off. Get back to your homes and present yourselves at the Keeperage first thing tomorrow morning. There's a deal of questions to be asked of you and your friends.'
Without waiting to see if his command was being obeyed, he clambered on to the stained rock. It began to rain as he addressed the growing crowd. ‘Listen to me, all of you,’ he shouted. ‘Go back to your homes right away. It's too dangerous to have so many of you up here. The light's failing, the weather turning, and many of you could be hurt descending. Go now while you can, and go carefully.'
Voices were raised in argument.
'The Chosen One is coming.'
'We've come to see where He revealed Himself to the Chosen One.'
'We've come to give thanks for the saving of our land from the Felden devils.'
'Go home!’ Skynner thundered through the mounting din. ‘Go home now.’ He took a chance. ‘No service can be held here. This place has not been proven by the church.'
'This place needs no proving by the hand of man, Serjeant.'
The voice over-topped Skynner's. It was Cassraw.
All eyes turned towards him. ‘This is His most holy place,’ he went on, stepping forward. ‘To here He will return and from here will His renewal of the world begin.’ Cries of ‘Thus let it be’ and ‘Praise Him’ rose from the crowd.
Vredech and Horld looked at Cassraw aghast. He was dressed in the formal black cassock of the church, but across it ran the red sash of his Knights of Ishryth, and draped over one arm was one of the faceless masks that the Knights had worn at Bredill. Around his head he wore what appeared to be a silver circlet; it rose to a point at the front and culminated in a single star-shaped jewel. Behind him stood Dowinne, dressed in a long undecorated black robe. On either side of him stood a rank of his Knights, and behind Dowinne another group of Knights were bearing a stretcher over which was draped the Madren flag.
'This is a mockery,’ Horld burst out. ‘Your words and your appearance are sacrilegious.'
'I forgive you your intemperance, Brother Horld,’ Cassraw said, though his eyes were far from forgiving. ‘I have just heard of the sudden and tragic death of our beloved Covenant Brother, Mueran, and your distress is understandable. But while my heart grieves for the loss of a dear friend and counsellor, his sceptre falls to me by tradition and, with all humility, I will take it and carry it forward as he would have wished, striving ever for the good of our church. Mysterious are His ways, and not for us to question.'
Horld stepped forward, eyes blazing, but Vredech caught hold of him. At the same time, the Knights flanking Cassraw moved close about him.
'There's nothing we can do,’ Vredech whispered to Horld, desperately fearful that the once blacksmith was about to resort to violence. And indeed, he felt the man's considerable strength trembling against his grip before it finally relaxed. ‘He's right. He does have tradition on his side at the moment, not to mention those thugs and this crowd. But we have time and the lay authority, and tradition, too, which demands a proper election of the Covenant Member within fifteen days.'
Cassraw and his entourage advanced towards the rocks and Horld and the others stood aside. As Cassraw passed, Vredech caught his gaze. ‘Turn away from this path, Enryc, I beg you,’ he said, very quietly. ‘Whatever touched you that dark day, it was not Ishryth, it was some ancient evil. Only horror lies before you. Some part of you must know that. Look deep into yourself and find again your true nature before you destroy both yourself and countless others.'
Cassraw stopped and doubt flickered briefly in his eyes. But it was like the flare of a candle caught in the howl of a gale, and was gone before it could illuminate anything.
'Follow me or ...’ He faltered. ‘Follow me, Allyn. Follow me. There is no other way. All has been revealed to me.'
He turned away quickly and stared up at Skynner, still standing on the rock. ‘You are defiling His most holy place,’ he said, his voice menacing.
Skynner crouched down and looked at him squarely. ‘I'm standing on a rock, Brother Cassraw. I'm not going to trade theology with you, though as I recall the Santyth, when Ishryth was asked should a temple be built for him, said that all places are his temple and should be respected equally.'
Cassraw almost snarled, ‘Your interpretation of the Santyth is flawed, Keeper, as is that of many others. I shall disclose the truth of His words as they have been and as they will be revealed to me. Now remove yourself.'
Skynner ignored the strident tone of the last remark and tried appealing to reason. ‘Brother Cassraw,’ he began. ‘Look at these people, look at this weather. This is neither the time nor the place for a service. People are going to be hurt.'
'Hurt!’ Cassraw hissed, his voice low despite its power. He turned towards the stretcher being carried by the Knights. ‘This is hurt. Young Marash here suffered the supreme hurt, perishing at the hands of the servants of evil as he defended his motherland while those who should have been doing it, squabbled like children. I will not ask you again, Serjeant; remove yourself from this sacred stone!'
Skynner bent forward and brought his face very close to Cassraw's so that only he could hear what was being said.
'I didn't care for the “or else” in that last remark, Brother. Let me remind you that you are disobeying a lawfully-given order from an officer of the state, which, as you know full well, will not be countenanced by the church authority when all this, and whatever comes of it, is accounted for—which will be soon, I guarantee you.’ His voice fell even lower and, as if in spite of himself, Cassraw leaned forward to hear. ‘If perchance you're thinking of further aggravating matters by having these louts of yours lay hands on me, not only will that, too, have to be accounted for, but you should be quite clear in your mind about whose head will be cracked open first.'
Cassraw's entire body began to quiver perceptibly at this implacable opposition, and his face went first white, then red. Before he could speak, however, Dowinne took his arm. He turned to her sharply, and Vredech noticed her grip tightening powerfully. He caught no hint of any exchange between them other than eye contact, but Cassraw's manner slowly softened. When he turned back to Skynner, he wore a conciliatory smile. Skynner's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
'I'll not debate this further with you, Serjeant,’ Cassraw said. ‘Your ignorance is excusable, this time, but it is not fitting that I, the Chosen, should allow it to distract me from my mission here. I offer you no reproach. There are many in this land who are ignorant and who await the One True Light, to bring them the truth.’ He placed his hands on the boulder. ‘See though, how He weeps at your obduracy.’ He looked pointedly at Skynner's feet. Skynner could do no other than follow his gaze.
The rain had been falling in a fine drizzle throughout this confrontation and the rock upon which Skynner was crouching had been thoroughly wetted, a small pool forming in the dip at its centre. Suddenly the water gathered there swirled forward and splashed angrily around Skynner's boots, tiny waves at the foot of an obdurate cliff. At the same time, a flurry of rain struck him in the face, making him raise his hand in protection. Neither event was conspicuous or violent, but the rain in Skynner's face disturbed him, and the strange movement of the water around his feet startled him and the two together caused him to slither incongruously off the rock.
Cassraw laughed. It was an un
pleasant sound, full more of triumph and malice than humour. The crowd followed his cue. Vredech stepped forward and helped Skynner to his feet. The action was virtually a reflex, however, as he had felt himself almost physically assaulted when the water on the boulder had started to move. His skin was crawling exactly as it had when Cassraw had transformed Dowinne's simple drink into water, and Cassraw's laughter was twisting about him like a choking noose. Again the word ‘abomination’ came to him in response to the presence he felt about him; the presence he had also felt invading Nertha and trying to possess him at this same place only three days ago. As then, he could find no response to what was happening other than rage, although the rainwater that was still splashing unnaturally about Skynner's feet fell away suddenly as though touched by his anger.
'Are you all right?’ he asked Skynner.
'No, I'm not,’ Skynner replied fiercely with an oath. He made to move towards Cassraw, but this time it was Nertha's hand that stayed him.
'Leave it,’ she said simply. ‘Only harm will come of resisting him here. You've done all you can.'
Skynner looked from her to Cassraw and back again, then yielded to her will. ‘Very well,’ he conceded. ‘But as I'm here, I'll stay, so there's at least one accurate witness to what's going on.'
'There'll be four,’ Nertha said, wiping the rain from her forehead and glancing at Vredech and Horld.
Cassraw was now on the far side of the boulder, his arms extended. Dowinne stood beside him, and the Knights bearing the body of Marash were ranked behind him.
'His blessing be upon you,’ Cassraw intoned.
'Thus let it be,’ the crowd chanted back as one.
'My children.’ Cassraw's voice was unnaturally loud. ‘I have brought you here that you might know the place where He revealed Himself to me.’ He laid his hand on the boulder. ‘Here, but months ago, as I sat alone and desolate with a fearful darkness all about me, a voice spoke to me in the midst of my prayers. His voice, my children. His voice. He told me that such wickedness was abroad that once again it was necessary for Him to venture forth into this world.’ Cassraw's voice grew gradually louder and a pulsing, driving rhythm began to permeate his speech. ‘He harrowed my whole being, my children. Showed me such things as would chill your souls to know. But He held me firm and gave me the strength that I would need, for He told me also that I was the vessel that He had chosen to set in train the righting of this world; the undoing of the work of His enemy. And as He chose me, so I choose you, to be the flame that will rekindle the true faith in this godless land.'
Excited cries were rising from the crowd in response to Cassraw's own mounting passion. His voice dropped suddenly and he leaned forward. The crowd fell silent immediately. ‘But great will be that task, my children, let me not deceive you. For His enemy has laboured long and silently to corrode His truth.’ He turned and laid a hand on the body of Marash.
The rain was falling more heavily now. Vredech felt his hair plastering flat over his head. He wiped his eyes as Cassraw continued.
'The price for some may appear high—a price that your most inner thoughts whisper is too high; something that you could not do.’ His voice began to rise again. ‘But fear not, for this seeming loss is but a moment's discomfort. For those who perish in this world in battle against His enemies will know no punishment for their sins and will be judged, not by His terrible Watchers, but by Him and Him alone, and they will be found fit to enter into Deryon. Deryon, that place beyond imagining, that place which is as this world but where all is perfection, and where there is neither labour, nor pain of any kind and where all that can be desired is to be won by the mere asking. There, even as I speak to you, the spirit of our murdered Brother Marash will be rejoicing.'
'This is as grotesque and primitive as it is heretical,’ Horld murmured, his eyes wide with disbelief at what he was hearing. Vredech nodded but signalled silence. He could feel the rain beginning to reach through to his back, shivering cold.
Cassraw looked straight at him. ‘Many of you have heard me speak and have understood. Great is the wisdom and vision of those who are unclouded by learning. But there are others—even those who have seen His hand at work before their eyes—who doubt yet. These lost souls are more deserving of our pity than our anger, my children, so blind are they. But only thus far can their blindness be forgiven, for it is in truth a wilful pride that turns them away from the Way when it has been so plainly shown to them. How great is such a pride, my children, that tells them they can deny His truth?’ He paused significantly. ‘Well, just so great is His mercy, for He has given me the power to bring to such doubters a sign.’ The crowd was very silent. ‘Let those among you so weak in faith as to need a sign, look upon this, and question it if you dare!'
As his last words boomed out over the crowd, he stood up, threw his head back to face the falling rain, and extended his arms wide.
Vredech drew in an agonizing breath as he felt all that he had felt before in the presence of one of Cassraw's ‘miracles', but this time, immeasurably worse. For a moment he felt he was going to lapse into unconsciousness, and indeed, in the darkness behind his briefly closed eyes, he thought he saw the Whistler looking at him curiously, his head on one side and his flute seemingly paused on its way to his mouth. The image was gone the instant he opened his eyes, but he heard himself softly whistling the familiar three notes.
There was agitation all about him, and cries of wonder coming from the crowd. Simultaneously he heard Nertha gasp, Skynner swear, and Horld cry out. As he looked around he realized that the rain had suddenly stopped. But as he looked further, he saw that beyond the crowd in every direction it seemed to be still falling. Then he discovered what had so startled his companions. His flattened hair, his previously sodden clothes, the rocks under his feet and all about him, were completely dry.
* * *
Chapter 32
Vredech looked at Nertha anxiously. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
They were sitting by the fire in Vredech's private quarters. Two lanterns, turned well down, added a little light to that thrown by the fire. It should have been a moment of quiet indulgence as they both luxuriated in the soft light and the after-glow of changing from cold, sodden clothes into dry ones. House had anticipated their condition and was fully armed to deal with it when they eventually returned. But no amount of physical comfort could assuage the tension they felt, though by silent consent they had kept it from House.
Vredech repeated his question, and Nertha nodded unconvincingly.
Following Cassraw's eerie demonstration of his power, there had been an uproar which ended only when most of the crowd had sunk to their knees. Cassraw gazed triumphantly at the four for whom it was primarily intended, but said nothing to them.
Instead, he had addressed the crowd.
'Such is the least of the powers that have been granted to me. Daily I am given more. Tell this to all who doubt. Tell them what you have seen, what you have felt, at this holy place. Spread the word. Seek out the doubters and convince them. Especially blessed are you, for you needed no sign, but all must be with us. The proving is begun.'
Then his voice had swelled again. ‘Two things you are charged with. Firstly, you must levy the militia and prepare for battle. Wait for no instructions from above, other than those I give you now, for you are led by weaklings and cowards. I will send forth His Knights to your homes with the ordering of your ranks. And lastly,’ his voice was soft again, but full of a menace that was made all the more frightening by the ecstasy that veined through it, ‘you shall hold this place most holy and walk no more upon it, for a great temple is to be built here. A temple of such wonders that all Gyronlandt will turn towards it and know His power.
For the rest, Vredech had only a kaleidoscope of memories: the silent return to the Witness House, the hasty empowering of such of his fellow Chapter Brothers as still remained, to deal with the temporary running of the Witness House and, not last, the arrangements for the re
moval of Mueran's body. Then, finally, the strained, almost unreal journey through the now-returned rain back to the familiar anchor of House's hospitality.
Throughout all this, his dominant concern had been for Nertha. Among them she seemed to be the most affected by Cassraw's demonstration. Skynner had left them at the gates of the Witness House. He had said nothing about the ‘miracle', apparently shutting it from his mind, but had seized on Cassraw's call for the levying of the militia. Perhaps the holding of a service on the summit of the Ervrin was a legal act, perhaps not, he announced, and while Cassraw's assumption of the office of Covenant Member seemed suspicious to him, he was unfamiliar with such matters and, in any event, it was purely a church affair. But setting himself up as a levying officer for the militia was indisputably illegal. The whole point of a citizen militia was that it could not be levied at the whim of any individual, save in extreme emergency. It could be levied only on the order of the Heindral, and there was an established and well-defined procedure for the issuing of that order.
And while Cassraw's actions had driven Skynner to take refuge in familiar practicalities, it had, ironically, convinced Horld utterly of the rightness of Vredech's interpretation of events. ‘I felt it. Horrible, horrible. I felt it. Just as on that day, but worse,’ he said many times on the journey down the mountain, shivering far more than the cold demanded. When they parted at the gates, he apologized to the others. ‘I'm sorry,’ he said. ‘I'm rambling. I need to think, to pray, to seek some guidance. When I'm quieter in my mind, I'll come to your Meeting House.’ He half-turned away, then with a grimace, turned back. ‘No. I'll come whether I'm settled or not. I'll come.'
Vredech had watched him go with some unease, but took comfort in the fact that Horld was above all an ‘iron and coals’ man, well-rooted in reality.
Reality?
Safely home now, the word floated to him on the Whistler's tune, taunting him. Where and how had he met Horld that moonlit evening on the mountain? Who was the Whistler? Did he exist? What he had said was coming to pass, but...? And from where did this awful power come, that had so possessed Cassraw? With a cold resolution that surprised him, Vredech set all these questions aside and brought his attention back to Nertha. She had been silent since Cassraw so mysteriously stopped the rain, and though she had seemed to be listening to Horld's spasmodic outbursts, and Skynner's desperate legalizing, Vredech knew that her mind had been elsewhere.
