The Light of Heaven (11 page)

At least his father had died in the war and thus been spared burning in a gibbet at the behest of the Faith. His father had made a good escape and so Scarra would too; preferably without dying though. A diversion would do the job as just as well.

"Good luck, Scarra." Sarkos gave him a salute. "We'll do what it takes."

"I know." With a sigh, Scarra shook Sarkos' hand in a warrior's wrist to wrist grip.

"You paid for a service, you get that service," Sarkos said. Scarra wished he could tell whether the man was being sincere, or making some dig about only being paid half. If it was the latter, then it was a surely a sign that he was about to betray Scarra.

Dead Tree Brook was small but trickled quickly along a wide, stony bed between two slopes of olive trees. The vineyard was beyond it, further upstream. The Swords were progressing on both sides of the stream, creeping towards Scarra's estate.

Nobody was surprised, as they neared the estate, to hear a distant rumble.

"Riders," Erak said. "decent horses too, not farm drays. Form up. We're about to have company."

Gabriella tensed as fifteen riders emerged from the groves on either side of them. They were all in leather amour, some with mail shirts or iron helms, and all carried swords or axes. There were no javelins or crossbows as far as Gabriella could see. Their shields were painted with blood-coloured daggers.

The mercenaries didn't attack, but took up positions in a semicircle in front of the Swords, blocking their path. One of them rode forward. "This is private property, friend," he said firmly. "I'm going to have to ask you to turn around."

Gabriella glanced at her comrades. Erak looked surprised, as did Oaks and Komo, while Tanner kept a poker face. The soldiers-at-arms were all professionally blank, waiting for orders. Erak nudged his horse forward.

"Captain...?"

"Sarkos."

"Captain Sarkos, We are members of the Order of the Swords of Dawn -"

"So I can see."

Erak kept his voice polite but low. "We are on our way to the estate of one Karel Scarra. I suggest you let us past. You may escort us if you wish."

"I'll be perfectly happy to escort you
off
this land."

"That's not what I meant." Erak kept his voice level, but Gabriella could see in his eyes that he knew which way this conversation was going to go. She was also certain that every moment they spent here meant a bigger lead for Scarra, who was no doubt wobbling off in the opposite direction as fast as his legs could carry his ungainly load.

"I know." Sarkos smiled and Erak's fingers began to flex.

"Let me," Gabriella said, putting her hand on Erak's forearm and gently pushing his hand away from his sword. "Are you religious, Captain Sarkos?"

He hesitated, put off his stride by the interruption. "Depends what you mean?"

"Do you observe the Tenthday?" Gabriella asked. "Make the proper offerings and tithes?"

He nodded reluctantly. "You don't meet a lot of soldiers who don't. It's always a good idea to keep your soul in good shape when you know you might end up in the clouds or the pits any minute."

"Sounds wise to me. So, here's the deal to keep your souls in good shape," Gabriella said, smiling. "You dismount, chat to our Confessor, pay a penance for your sins."

"Or?"

"Or you stay mounted, take on a numerically superior, better-trained force, and make your confessions to the Lord of All when you meet him; which you will, very quickly thereafter."

"You're threatening our employer."

"I'm dealing with a serious morality crime. The attempted assassination of a Final Faith Eminence by a member of a heretical sect." The mercenary Captain paled, clearly shocked by this news. "By rights I should have you under arrest already."

"Then why haven't you?"

Gabriella leaned back in the saddle. "Because you, personally, haven't committed those crimes yet. But the instant you draw down on any of us, you're contributing not just to the morality crime, but to the heresy. And there's only one course of action we can take about that."

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

Gabriella shook her head. "I'm sure that's what Scarra and his Brotherhood friends would want you to think of us but, all things being equal, I'd rather there was another troop of faithful soldiers raising mankind towards the Lord in the world, than another bunch of heretics burning in the pits."

The mercenary stiffened. "I assume you mean well, but your implication that we would betray our paymaster -"

"I wouldn't have used quite those words -"

"Once my men have been paid," he said grimly, "they follow the job through. If we accepted a contract and a payment, then abandoned our client to his enemies, then we'd quickly be out of business."

"You'd be alive."

"If you call that life." He wheeled his horse around.

"Are you going to die for the ignorant?"

"Maybe that's what I take their coin for. I'm paid to protect Scarra from attack, not bring him intelligence. I won't be mentioning our meeting."

Gabriella understood. Sarkos wanted to be honourable and professional. That was fine, but aiding and abetting a heretic was not. The mercenary had made his decision. She wished she didn't have to do what now became necessary, but as her father had always said, if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

Sarkos was quick. He actually managed to raise his shield just in time to deflect her first cut, so it barely scraped his ear rather than rip his throat out.

Hanging onto the reins with her left hand, Gabriella couldn't draw her other sword, but she could make her horse rear. It rose up on its hind legs, its front hooves slashing down onto the mercenary's shield. The sheer weight of horse and rider smashed Sarkos clean out of his saddle and his horse staggered sideways under the impact.

Sarkos rolled, frantically trying to get out of the way of his own animal's stamping hooves. The horse finally got its balance and bolted off towards the ridge, and Sarkos gained his feet, drawing his sword. He made a wild cut at the neck of Gabriella's mount, but she pulled back just in time. Gabriella knew that he had the advantage for the moment; she'd find it difficult to lean down far enough to get in a killing blow at him, but he could easily strike at her horse, and try to bring it down and pin her under it.

She jumped down, away from him, ready to face him on more equal terms.

As the other mercenaries drew their swords, Erak spurred his horse forward, followed by the other Knights. They crashed into the line of mercenaries and Erak slammed his shield into the nearest man's face. The mercenary rolled out of his saddle, his helmet flying aside. Erak rode over him, his mount's iron-shod hooves splintering his skull.

The soldiers-at-arms on foot had grouped into threes and fours to box in the mounted mercenaries. They thrust spears at the riders to keep them at bay and try to unhorse them. Meanwhile Tanner had drawn a longsword and was running down the mercenaries on foot. Oaks and Komo circled the fight, trying to draw off some of the Red Daggers and cut them down.

The stream bed rang to the sounds of blade against blade and shield, punctuated by grunts of effort and the screams of pain from those who took wounds. Men were running and swinging swords and axes, dodging horses, while riders slashed downwards at heads that passed by. No-one on either side tried to run from the fight but that was more because they were sensible enough to not turn their backs on their enemies, than because they didn't want to seem afraid.

Gabriella drew her second sword. Sarkos wasn't going to want to give her the chance to come at him again, so she was ready to catch his blade between hers and backhand him in the face with one pommel. He fell backwards, landing with a crash on his tailbone. Gabriella stamped on his wrist and dropped the point of her knee onto his chest. Even through his brigandine armour, the blow knocked the wind out of his lungs and Gabriella jammed her blade through his throat and into the ground below him.

She held him down as he twitched, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Nothing personal," she said. "I'd rather you'd given yourself to the Lord of All than died for Scarra's sins, but..."

Sarkos had stopped twitching. She was surprised how clean the blade was when she pulled it out; all the blood had flowed down into his lungs rather than out of the wound.

Gabriella was so surprised that she paused to look at the blade and almost lost her head for her trouble. There was a rush of air as a mounted mercenary swung at her. She rolled aside, slashing at the horse's legs. It screamed, a disconcertingly human sound and staggered sideways. The rider managed to stay in the saddle, but was unable to control his horse for the moment. This gave Gabriella a chance to scramble up into a stout olive tree and launch him from the saddle with a flying kick.

They crashed to the ground and she was up immediately, cutting his throat. She leapt back up onto her horse and wheeled it around to charge over to where Erak was duelling with two more mercenaries.

Gabriella's arrival distracted one of the mercenaries long enough for Erak to cleave his head clear from his shoulders. He ducked instinctively as the second mercenary's sword flashed overhead, only to be blocked by Gabriella. She caught the blade on hers, and twisted it away as Erak leaned past his mount's neck to run the man through.

The screaming had stopped and when Gabriella caught her breath, she saw that none of the Red Daggers were still standing. Soldiers-at-arms were darting from fallen body to fallen body, making sure they stayed down, while a couple of wounded men of the Swords were tended to by their colleagues.

She moved back to the others. Erak was waiting, mopping his brow with a rag, and looking around at the bodies.

"Did any get away?" he asked.

"Not that I saw. Idiots."

"Idiots?"

"Dying for nothing." She shook her head. "Not for themselves, not for honour, not for the Lord. Idiots."

"For money?"

"For half what they were promised? How are they going to spend it anyway?"

Erak shrugged. "Who cares. Just be glad they had no spell casters with them." He sniffed and spat. "Forget them, we've got more important business here."

"I've been thinking about that," Gabriella agreed.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go and have words with Scarra, before he has the chance to work out that his rented muscle isn't coming back."

"You're going to talk to him?"

"Have words with. There's a difference."

"On your own?"

She feigned a look of surprise. "Why? Aren't you lot coming?"

"If you'll give us a couple of minutes."

Gabriella nodded. "I'll ride point. He'll probably play at talking only to you and not to the woman who he thinks shouldn't be doing the Lord's work. Always assuming he hasn't fled already, so let's have the men-at-arms ready to comb the far side of the estate for him."

"I thought as much. And I know how to keep quiet if he's still there and you want the last word."

Erak mounted up and stood up in his stirrups to address the soldiers-at-arms.

"All right, remember what we came for. Karel Scarra must atone for his sins. He should be brought in alive, that we learn more about his fellow apostates. Having said that, it is most important that he is sent to the pits of Kerberos before he can spread the Brotherhood's heresy. So if it comes to a choice between cutting him down where he stands and letting him run..." He brandished his sword. "Well, you just had enough practice."

Gabriella kept her mind centred as she rode into the little village that was at the heart of the estate. Inside, her stomach played host to a whole swarm of butterflies. It wasn't fear of a fight or even of someone in one of those narrow little doorways with a bow. She was still on a high from the clash with the mercenaries and damn well looking forward to more victory. Yet her nerves felt more like fear of disappointment.

What, she wondered, if he had made good his escape while his mercenary guards were buying his life with their blood and she was now just about to discover the extent of her failure to serve?

She could hear the hoof beats of Erak, Oaks, Komo and Tanner's mounts a short distance behind her and the rattle of the soldiers' weapons and armour, and they reassured her.

She rode slowly past the tiny church, admiring the simplicity and beauty of its architecture, and was angered at the thought that something so positive in the world would need to be re-consecrated after being used by the Brotherhood.

People were appearing in the doorways of the little houses. They were all men, and all carried weapons. They stepped out into the street, glaring with obvious hostility, but didn't attack yet. Behind her, the soldiers spread out, making sure a trained man was always in the way of each of the most dangerous-looking of the townsfolk.

There was a sudden clatter from a large house at the end of the road, but Gabriella couldn't see what had caused it. Realising it must have been a back door, she galloped forward and around the house. Half a dozen men in servants' livery were running up a narrow trail, carrying short swords. Further up the trail, a single horse was pulling a two-wheeled trap. She overtook it easily, the other mounted Knights following her and surrounding the trap, which was forced to a halt.

The horse pulling the trap shied nervously, but didn't try to break through, even though the fat man on the driver's bench was whipping it frantically. Gabriella knew that horses had to be trained to run at other animals or people, and this one clearly hadn't been.

She dismounted and snatched the whip from his hand. She could almost feel the horse's sense of relief.

"Karel Scarra, I presume," Gabriella began, stopping in front of him. In her peripheral vision, she could see the townspeople close in. They probably thought they were being intimidating and didn't realise they were giving her an audience to play off. She could hear Erak and the others taking up positions behind her, but didn't bother looking round. She had known Erak since they were twelve year-old squires together and trusted him to be in the right place at the right time.