The Dusk Watchman: Book Five of The Twilight Reign (21 page)

Sorting that out can be Vesna’s problem,
Mihn decided, watching Isak, who had lost much of the natural balance he’d once possessed and was clearly struggling to match Toramin’s natural rhythm.

Most likely Isak will manage to provide me with enough problems to deal with. He usually does.

Knight-Cardinal Certinse held back in the shadows and watched the soldiers eying each other suspiciously. They might all be dressed in the uniform of the Knights of the Temples, but each man displayed subtle differences, declare their allegiances. Their lords sat in Akell’s magnificent council chamber, the Hall of Flags, through the pair of grand doors. Certinse had no doubt that the same posturing and sizing-up was taking place within as well as without.

He recognised only one of the faces, the one man who sat with his eyes half-closed and ignored the rest. He was a hatchet-faced knight from Canar Fell, a renowned fighter even among that city of warriors, but wearing the white braiding that indicated he was General Afasin’s man, the other half of the Mustet delegation. The rest of the young bucks came from Embere and Raland; they were here as escorts for their lords, and desperate to win names for themselves if the opportunity presented itself.

Certinse sighed, his fingers automatically moving to the old coin hanging around his neck. He briefly ran his fingers over its grooved surface, then tucked it inside his tunic.

The point of no return,
he thought, but in his heart he knew it was not; that was long-past. Now he had to come good on the promises he had made. His thoughts returned to the coin. Even when he took it off he could feel it resting against his chest, a reminder of the bargain he had made.

The Knights of the Temples had no mages and Certinse had not met many, but even so he fully understood the acceptance of a bargain with a creature of magic. He hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but the more he considered it, the more he realised the significance of taking Ruhen’s coin.

‘Planning your strategy?’ whispered a voice in his ear.

Certinse managed to hide his jolt of surprise. Ilumene moved like a cat, but the big mercenary had crept up on Certinse half a dozen times in the past weeks and the Knight-Cardinal was growing accustomed to soft voices from the shadows.

‘Just reflecting,’ he muttered in reply. ‘Now I know your true allegiance, it occurs to me my family has not profited from its association with Azaer.’ Cetinse’s broken nights of sleep had culminated in a waking dream where he’d conversed with a figure of shadow and learned much about his family and the future of the Land.

The comment didn’t appear to surprise the man he’d known until recently as Sergeant Hener Kayel.

‘You don’t think so?’ Ilumene asked. ‘High Cardinal of the cult of Nartis in Tirah, the Dukedom of Lomin, Knight-Cardinal and Supreme Commander of the Knights of the Temples – what were you hoping for exactly?’

Certinse faced Ilumene, who wore a white brigandine and trousers; his weapons were barely hidden beneath the long white cloak that was as much of a uniform as Ruhen’s Children had. That he was openly dressed that way in Akell spoke volumes, given the violent response Ruhen’s followers had received in recent weeks from the fanatics of Akell.

‘My father is dead. My brothers are dead. My sister and nephew are dead. It’s enough to give the last remaining Certinse pause for thought, don’t you think?’

‘Mebbe, true, though we all die in the end – it’s what happens before most folk care about. Could just mean you’re not so rash as some members of your family.’

‘Or they were sacrificed when their time came?’

‘Wasteful of us, then.’ Ilumene’s face went suddenly serious.

‘More the style of the Gods than Azaer, if you think about it. They like to play with their toys, then throw ’em away, careless of the mess they leave behind.’

Certinse frowned in thought. ‘What does that remind me of? I’m sure I’ve heard of something similar said before.’

‘Aryn Bwr’s first charge against the Gods,’ Ilumene said. ‘I wouldn’t mention that to your colleagues, though; he’s not so popular in these parts.’

‘Yet you want me to follow the path the great heretic once trod?’

‘The last king wanted to tear down the pantheon,’ Ilumene corrected, ‘to break the power of the Gods. Our goal’s to redraw the lines, not tear up the map.’

Certinse didn’t look convinced. ‘And Azaer had no hand in his rebellion, in the Great War?’

‘Azaer is a shadow born of the light of creation, ever weak, ever on the periphery. To get involved in a war of that magnitude – well, Azaer looks that reckless to you?’ Ilumene pointed towards the closed doors of the Hall of Flags, where the remaining members of the Council of the Knights of the Temples awaited their leader.

‘We want a holy war as little as they do. Azaer doesn’t ask for control of your order. You’ve made a bargain with the shadow, but you have
not
sold your mind; Azaer doesn’t demand that of you.

‘The majesty of the Gods has been diminished by the actions of priests and our enemies, both Lord Isak and King Emin. Steps must be taken, or humanity faces a second Age of Darkness at best, while the Gods recover their strength. They might not have taken the losses of the Great War, but the cults have done fine work in turning worship away from them.’

Certinse raised a hand. ‘I know, I know.’

‘Then act: if your troops see Ruhen as the saviour the citizens of Byora do, so be it, but we don’t require any declaration of the council.’

‘And when they ask Ruhen’s ultimate goal? It is a question I’ve refrained from asking, but perhaps I need the answer before I go in there. Whether or not you lie to me, well, that’s what men of power do, but allegiance is a mutable thing and we must know the limits of your declared intentions.’

‘A legacy,’ Ilumene said without hesitation. ‘Redress of the imbalance in the Land is, we believe, not incompatible with forming a domain of our own.’

‘You make it sound like you are an equal partner with this immortal being,’ Certinse said, a warning in his voice.

Ilumene smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I know my place. I may be favoured son, but disciple I remain. My reward’s a bargain already agreed. Your councilmen will be suspicious of anything they don’t suggest themselves. Make it clear there’s enough of this Land to satisfy the ambitions of all, and they’ll be the ones with armies when the dust settles.’

Certinse nodded, almost light-headed at the idea of what the Land might look like once this had come to pass. All he knew was that change
was
coming, like stones tumbling down a hillside, and trying to resist was not an option, not now.

All that remains is to see how the hand is played,
he realised as he marched through the antechamber. All eyes turned his way and for a moment none of them moved, then the older knight stood and saluted and the others sheepishly followed suit.

Certinse ensured he got a good look at the face of each while he returned the salute. It was enough to see that flicker of anxiety in their eyes. He didn’t need anything more.

Once inside the Hall of Flags the Knight-Cardinal shut the doors behind him and took a moment to look over the remaining members of the council. They were much depleted, the traditional eleven members whittled down to him and these four, an elderly sixth member having sent his anticipated letter of resignation in his place.

General Gort had died in some ridiculous last stand to protect the Temple Plaza in Scree, while Cardinal Eleil had suffered a fatal heart attack in his study one evening here in Akell. High Priest Garash had succumbed to red vein fever along with his followers in Akell Gaol, and High Priest Osir had reportedly died in a daemon attack as he travelled up from Tor Salan for this meeting, and High Priest Sechach had apparently not received the summons. Rumour had it the ageing cleric was confined to his own home after killing a serving girl by setting light to the room they were in, all the while gibbering about shadowy figures stalking the house.

No need to ask Ilumene if he knew anything about that one,
Certinse reflected,
even if I’m not so sure about Garash or Eleil. I can only hope Azaer considers my life more useful than my death.

‘Gentlemen, honoured council members – I thank you for the speed with which you have all attended my summons.’ Certinse bowed to the four men, lower than he needed to. He had found over the years that a little excessive respect at the start of council meetings smoothed most feathers nicely. He might be the Commander of the Knights of the Temples, but each of the four here were outright rulers of city-states and unused to obeying any sort of order.

‘This all of us then?’ General Afasin barked gruffly. The ruler of Mustet, the only white-eye on the council, was a tall, brown-skinned man of middle years. He had travelled the furthest to be here today – indeed Certinse was sure the man must have been much closer to be able to get here so quickly. No doubt his army had been probing the Sautin border again.

‘I’m afraid so,’ Certinse said. ‘General Abay has resigned, High Priest Garash died recently in custody and I’m sure you’ve heard about Cardinal Eleil and High Priest Osir.’

‘And Sechach,’ Afasin confirmed, nodding towards Duke Chaist opposite him. Chaist was the ruler of Embere, where the high priest lived. He had personally given the order to confine him.

‘So few are the representatives of the Gods,’ Cardinal Sourl croaked. The emaciated man peered around his fellow generals, his recently adopted austere lifestyle clearly taking its toll and advancing the onset of old age. ‘This Order has indeed lost its way.’

‘This Order has been driven from its path,’ Certinse snapped, making Sourl flinch, ‘hijacked by fanatics whose illegal acts forced me to retaliate. Do
not
remind me of your part in events, Sourl.’

‘You brought us here for this argument?’ Afasin rumbled. ‘I could have stayed at home and had it there.’

‘But which side would you have been on, General?’ Certinse retorted. ‘Or is it Cardinal? I confess I am confused as to which title you prefer these days.’

The white-eye was very quiet for a dozen heartbeats. His skin was dark enough that Certinse couldn’t see if he was flushed with anger, but the set of his jaw suggested Afasin was fighting the urge to draw his sword.

‘The Circle City is not only the only place where there have been tensions, but some of us managed to avoid wholesale slaughter while we got over the worst,’ he said at last.

‘Then I congratulate you on such deft handling,
General
Afasin, but we have not all been so fortunate.’

There was a creak and a thump as the last man there, General Telith Vener, pushed his chair back and dumped his feet on the table. He folded his arms, making a show of getting comfortable. ‘Wake me when the pissing contest is over, Chaist,’ he asked the man next to him, ignoring the hiss of contempt he received from his neighbour. The two had spent the previous summer fighting for control of the city-state of Raland and Duke Chaist was not a man to be gracious in comprehensive defeat, it appeared.

Certinse turned away from Afasin, his point made. General Vener was the biggest problem he had, and the man knew it. He had ducked every request for a private meeting beforehand and had made it clear who held the power right now: the wealth of Raland could sway most decisions in times of war.

‘I apologise if we’re boring you, Vener – perhaps I could turn the conversation towards a more stimulating subject?’

‘That would be nice,’ Vener said, closing his eyes and not shifting position. ‘Perhaps we could discuss this saviour I hear you’re intent on forcing on us? It’s one thing to sell your own men as mercenary escorts to Prince Ruhen, quite another to devote the entire Order to his service.’

The general was a lean, fit man whose physical prime seemed to have extended ten years longer than most men’s. He was five for six summers younger than the newly decrepit Cardinal Sourl, but Vener hadn’t succumbed to greying hair or a thickening waist yet. Certinse guessed Sourl would die within a year, but he had the creeping suspicion Vener would still be leaping from his horse when Certinse himself had need of a cane.

‘I intend no such thing,’ Certinse said calmly, ‘but I hope you will recognise the Land is at a crossroads and the Order should act decisively?’

‘Take advantage of the chaos, you mean?’

Certinse felt his hand tense; Telith Vener taking the moral high ground was enough to make any man choke with disgust.

‘Let me get this straight, Vener. You are still a member of the Knights of the Temples, correct?’

‘I am.’

‘Why?’

That made the bastard open his eyes at least. ‘What sort of a question is that?’

‘A fair one,’ Certinse said. He didn’t bother waiting for an answer; he wasn’t trying to humiliate the man, just to get his attention. ‘From what I can gather, you appear to be against the very concept of a saviour. You feel we should not step in to restore order to chaos, even when daemons have free reign over the wild parts of the Land and the Gods are weakened by enemies unconfirmed. Beyond a belief your uniform brings out your eyes, I’m not certain what reason you have for being a member of the Order.’

‘You of all men accuse me of that?’ Vener roared, jumping to his feet. ‘Given the violence that has gone on between priests and soldiers here, you ask what reason
I
have for being in the Order?’ He started towards the door. ‘The stench of hypocrisy in here has become too much for me, I think—’

‘General,’ Certinse broke in, ‘please retake your seat. I accuse you of nothing. As for hypocrisy, I am willing to admit I too have forgotten the founding principles of our Order in recent years.’

Vener halted and glared at him. ‘This child, Ruhen, has reminded you?’ he asked sceptically.

‘The grace of the Gods works in myriad ways,’ Certinse said by way of reply. ‘The child has played only a part, I assure you of that. More importantly, this Land cries out for protection and leadership, and we can give it both.’

‘
We?
’ General Afasin echoed, leaning forward in his chair. ‘An army of the devoted, that’s our creed – under command of the saviour. Are you saying the child is the saviour of our prophecies or not?’