The Light of Heaven (28 page)

Two men were examining a thick leather-bound volume in an ante-room when Gabriella and Crowe passed through. Both wore the simple, comfortable robes of scholars, but the muscles on their forearms were thickly corded.

One of the men was swarthy, with a neat beard and oiled hair tied into a ponytail. The other, slightly taller, man was clean-shaven and had lank hair. Both carried themselves like warriors and Gabriella wondered if they were members of Pontaine's nobility.

"Excellent," Chaga said, pretending to study the book they had laid on the lectern between them. "So, this is Sister DeZantez. She's not how I imagined her. Somehow I expected a mannish, raven-haired banshee."

"If she recognises either of us, you may see her as a banshee yet, boss."

"Don't worry," Chaga reassured his subordinate. "The last thing we want on our hands is a fight here in the Faith's largest embassy to Pontaine."

Crowe seemed professional enough as mercenaries went and Marta sensed she could trust him to do Gabriella no harm. She looked over at the two scholars in the anteroom. Something about them set her teeth on edge, but she couldn't say why.

"Was there anything specific you were looking for?" She asked Gabriella.

"I wondered if there are any records here detailing the actions of Mandrian's Hands in the last war."

Marta shook her head. "All the military records were taken back to the Order's central archive at Scholten."

"But weren't there copies?"

"Those were taken away a year or more back. On the orders of one of the Eminences. Kesar or Rhodon." She frowned. "Kesar, definitely."

Gabriella was visibly disappointed, but took it well. "Okay. No matter. The second thing I'm looking for may be related to a story you used to tell me. Have you heard of the Glass Mountain?"

"The Glass Mountain? Now that's a tale I've not heard in many years."

"But you do remember it?"

Marta chuckled. "Gabriella, you know that if there's a tale, I've heard of it." Different stories give different locations for it, and each story and setting has a different origin. The Tale of Wyngarde claims that the Dwarven people once had a great capital which glowed in the sunlight because it was made of cut-crystal glass, for example. That story is the most common one."

"Was Wyngarde a creation of fiction or did he actually exist?"

"Wyngarde certainly was a real person. He was a Preceptor in the Swords a couple of centuries ago. There will be records of his duties and campaigns kept at the Great Cathedral in Scholten, of course, but all I have here are the public tales as written down, because his Preceptory was in Gargas."

"Are there any maps of his travels?" Gabriella asked.

Marta blinked. "You know, there just might be. I haven't thought about it since you grew up..." She trailed off as she rooted through several large scrolls, before brandishing one with an exclamation. "This is the one." She unrolled it on a table, weighting the corners down with candlesticks. The map showed the Western regions of Pontaine, down to the World's Ridge and the edges of the great Sardenne forest.

It was there, just as Gabriella had hoped. A jagged fang drawn on vellum, and labelled 'Glass Mountain'. It was tucked away at the south-western end of the World's Ridge, just inland.

"Can we make a copy of this?" Gabriella asked.

"Of course. While I get one of the scribes to work on it, why don't you join us for dinner?"

The thought of the warmth and welcome of her parent's home was so overwhelming to Gabriella, after all that she had been through, that she began to cry.

"Gabriella, my sweet, what's the matter?"

"It's Erak... Erak's dead."

And with that Gabriella wept in her mother's arms.

Later that evening, Travis Crowe asked Marta for a word in private.

"Well?" She said, after leading him to her study. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"I- How do I start?" He wasn't used to visiting women's mothers, if truth be told. He wasn't even sure why he was bothering, except that having fought together with Gabriella gave them a bond. That, and the voice that still whispered "protect" in his head. He knew it wasn't referring to her, but he also knew there was a connection between Gabriella and what the voice referred to.

Marta folded her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"At the beginning. Stories usually start there."

"Something happened recently, when Erak Brand was killed."

"If you need to ask about why someone is upset when a special person in her life is murdered, then you're far beyond any help I could give you."

Crowe grimaced. "The bloke who did it, Dai Batsen, was a Shadowmage."

Marta spat. "I heard. Another one of those debased heretics who think they can bargain with the spawn of the pits to get their way. Why should it be a surprise that he was a murderer?"

"That's not the surprise. He tried to use magic on Gabriella. But it didn't work."

"Of course not."

"Look, maybe you're not hearing me right. A Shadowmage was tossing fireballs at your daughter -"

"And she obviously survived. She's well trained, you know."

Crowe stopped and blinked. This wasn't the reaction he had been expecting. "Now, I may not be a bloody archivist, or a bloody expert on shadow magic or elemental magic or whatever-the-hell kind of magic, but I've never heard of that happening before. So I wondered if you'd heard of such a thing yourself."

Marta shook her head. "The Lord Of All was with her. Protecting her. Simple. Was there anything else you wanted to know?" He was tempted to ask if she had ever seen her daughter take a fireball in the face before, but it would have been facetious at best to do so. There were some other more rational questioned he wished he could ask, but it was clear to Crowe that Marta was hiding something from him and it was clear from her expression that their meeting was over.

Gabriella awoke to the sound of footsteps. She looked up from the books that she had been studying before she had fallen asleep. "Mother? Crowe?"

She was surprised to see the two scholarly, well muscled, visitors snatching documents off shelves. The one with the braided hair looked up, startled. "Chaga! Stop her!"

The man with the oiled hair hurled a lamp at Gabriella and she ducked. It smashed into a shelf full of scrolls behind her, and they immediately burst into flame. Head down, Gabriella ran at Chaga, the crown of her head punching into his chest, hurling him back against the wall.

He sagged with a grunt, but then tried for an uppercut, forcing Gabriella to jump back. Someone started ringing a bell and people began to appear in bedclothes and blue monastic robes. Marta ran in, saw the fire, and called for buckets of water.

Meanwhile, Chaga hurled a handful of books at Gabriella's head, making her shield herself with both hands. He slid forward immediately, kicking at her ribs. She blocked and grabbed his leg, throwing him across a low table.

He rolled to his feet, drawing a long dagger, and lunged at her. Gabriella flicked out a hand to grab his wrist and turned and pulled, smashing her fist into his elbow as he stumbled past. His blade fell from a numbed hand. She stepped in, cracking him on the side of the head with the point of her elbow, then jerking the elbow back into his nose. He finally went down when the back of her fist crashed across his jaw.

By the time she looked back for the man with the braided hair, he had gone. She would have to find him later. For now, she had more urgent matters to attend to. "What's missing?" She asked her mother as she frantically sorted through scrolls.

"Everything relating to the maps you viewed earlier it seems. Various other random materials as well, burned in the fire, but all subsidiary references to maps with the Glass Mountain are just gone. Stolen."

"Which means somebody either believes the story and wanted a map, or wants to deny it to us. Luckily they're too late." Gabriella tapped the side of her head. "You've already got a scribe with a copy and I've got it in here."

"Which means you're going, of course," Marta said.

"Of course. And I doubt it'll be particularly safe."

"I think I can guarantee that," Crowe agreed.

There were familiar faces waiting for Gabriella when she and Crowe got back to Solnos. Four Knights in full ceremonial colours were on guard, themselves watched with some suspicion by an equal number of troops from two or three mercenary companies, including Kannis' company. Preceptor DeBarres greeted Gabriella with a smile as soon as she walked into the church.

"Gabriella! Thank the Lord you're safe. Eminence Kesar will want to hear your tale."

"He's here?" Gabriella hadn't expected that.

"He's come to pay a visit to the site of an attack on a Faith church. He also brought some funds, for use in paying the mercenary groups which Captain Kannis and I are hiring to defend the area. The scouts report that there are more goblins coming and we will be marshalling a force to meet them."

"Of mercenaries?"

"It's politically safer than risking Lord Aristide - or any other Pontaine Lord -jumping to the wrong conclusion and defending themselves too vigorously against an imaginary Vos invasion." Gabriella couldn't fault that logic. "I'll arrange your meeting with the Eminence."

Within the hour, in the top floor of the largest inn in Solnos, Eminence Rodrigo Kesar poured clear water, scented with droplets squeezed from fruit, into two goblets, and passed one to Gabriella. The water was cold and refreshing.

"It does my heart a great deal of good," Kesar said, "to see you unharmed."

"The Lord of All is with me, Eminence."

"As with all of us, Sister DeZantez." He walked to the window and looked out towards where Crowe was checking over a horse. Beyond him, soldiers-at-arms were clearing debris from the makeshift barricades. "You fought a great battle. A triumph of the Lord's will over those creatures."

"Thank you, Eminence."

"And I was very sorry to hear about Enlightened One Brand. He was an excellent Knight of the Swords, and I fully believe he would have proved an equally valuable and excellent Enlightened One. I'm also aware that you and he had taken the Pledge and would have most likely have been Bound, in time. I can't claim to know how you must be feeling,"

"It's not getting in the way." She said, making sure to keep her features as neutral as possible.

"Of course it is." He shushed her next protest before she could make it. "But it is not something that can or will be held against you. You wouldn't be human if it did not affect you." He fell silent, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. "Now, this man Travis Crowe. Who is he?"

"He's a mercenary," she said.

"There are enough of them around, that's for sure."

"He's also an informant."

Kesar's expression showed piqued interest. "On what matters?"

"On the Brotherhood and their operations."

"Really?" Kesar pursed his lips as he regarded Crowe. "He is devout?"

"I wish," Gabriella said under her breath.

Kesar lifted a scroll. "I know you feel your true destiny is in the Swords and I'm certain that you will continue to be excellent in that duty, but... But we can't leave this parish without an Enlightened One and I know that you will serve well in that position."

Gabriella stiffened. "Eminence... I would prefer to serve in another position."

"Would you? Yet the Lord has means and manners for all of us."

"It's not unusual for a parish to be missing an Enlightened One for a short period and I believe that you will approve of the duty I seek."

"Really?"

"It's related to a duty you already gave me, Eminence. I have found Goran Kell's hiding place."

Kesar sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his nose. "All right," he said at last. "Tell me more."

And she did.

CHAPTER 15

The smell was the strangest thing about this section of the Great Cathedral. Many areas, especially the underground levels, stank in one way or another. Cells used by the Confessors reeked of blood and excrement, while the archives smelled of the must of ancient scrolls and most of the stonework bore a faint air of smoke. The incense that burned throughout the Great Cathedral masked a lot of it, but not always and not everywhere.

Katherine Makennon could have said she hated the stink, but she'd be lying. The sacred oils that were rubbed into her skin every day since her investiture masked most of the atmosphere in which she walked, but she had always found the scent of the corridors comforting. The smell reminded her of home not least because this
was
her home. This was where she was meant to be.

"A glass mountain," Makennon said curtly. "You can guess what I thought of immediately I heard the phrase."

"Ckeol se-Llrim. The Isle of the Star." The voice had an eerie quality. Its owner stayed in the shadows, walking around the edges of the chamber. "It is not a unique phenomenon."

"It is to humankind."

"Man does not know everything. If they did, no-one would ever send ships in search of the Isle. Any of the isles."

"There are others?"

"Several, daughter of Twilight, but none other within the reach of Man. They are sacred only to the Lord of All."

"As He wishes," Makennon murmured, "so mote it be. And the bridge of light... It's happening now?"

"Yes." The sound was more an exhalation than a word. "As it has so many times before, and as it will so many times again."

"This occasion is the only time that concerns me," Makennon said, satisfied. "All that matters now is that we are ready to respond to the opportunities offered when the Lord does His part."

Down in the heart of south-western Pontaine, scouts were rushing inland towards the armed camp that had grown up around the town of Solnos. A full fifty Knights of the Order of the Swords Of Dawn had moved in, joining Gabriella, DeBarres and Eminence Kesar. They had arrived in groups of twos and threes, so as not to arouse the ire of the local military. Kannis was sending hourly reports to Lord Aristide of Fayence, whose scouts were themselves prowling nervously outside town. No-one wanted those scouts to decide that the Swords and mercenaries were an invasion force threatening Fayence. Kannis had been employed by Lord Aristide before, and volunteered to keep him informed and to persuade him that he needn't fear these troops.