The Fall of Ossard (22 page)

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Authors: Colin Tabor

BOOK: The Fall of Ossard
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“Ossard, you were once strong and united, but are now weak and divided as you tremble in fear. Because of the Merchant Princes’ failure they have been damned, and if you do nothing to save yourselves, so to will you be!”

I could feel the crowd and its factions. Some listened with hope to the Inquisitor while others listened with deepening contempt.

Those who’d embraced Santana and Malsano seemed to grow only more hostile to the Inquisitor’s words, closing their minds and whispering to their like-minded friends. They began shifting towards the back of the square, repulsed by his message.

Others who still clung to the traditional teachings of the Church and accepted the authority of the Benefice and Inquisition stepped forward, drawn towards the promise of salvation. Their minds overflowed with doubt and fear, but here they found hope and a rising sense of elation. It grew stronger with each step they took, encouraging them always on. Some of them began to call out, crying praise and glory, and even taking to singing the Church’s holy songs.

My vision slipped into the celestial to witness sparks of light raining down from above. They struck and enriched the souls of the advancing faithful, a glowing rain of blessings from Krienta himself.

Looking about, I could see a similar display of power at the back of the square. Violet blessings raced about like fireflies, weaving through the crowds, striking those already taken by the new saints. That swarm of blessings came from a twisting column of swirling light, a pillar that turned quickly and reached up into the sky.

The two magics were the same, both divine, but of rival sources. Two gods battled here, and I could feel the tension as the real world strained.

What would happen if
more
gods were attracted to a city of so many lost souls?

And so the crowd split.

The followers of the new saints were drawn away, lured by the swarming blessings visible only in the celestial but felt by those open to them. Their pursuit took them from the square, and the Inquisitor, but they didn’t care.

Behind them they left the crowding followers of Krienta, all trying to get closer to the Inquisitor because of their own god’s unseen gifts. People cried out in prayer, sang hymns, or just wailed in pious ecstasy.

Ossard would never be the same again.

Inquisitor Anton called out, “The city needs to be reborn! It needs your devotion and your vigilance! It needs to leave behind all those things that have brought it to this terrible point, and be rid of them forever!”

Like parched drunkards they greedily drank of it.

“Today we divest the city of the institutions that have failed her. There is no more Lord of Ossard, no more Council of Merchant Princes,” and he sniggered, “as if merchants could be princes! And all that is just the start!”

The crowd cheered.

“We will also do away with the Flet Guild and the Merchants’Guild. The old establishment is not welcome in our new and holy Ossard!”

The cheer of the crowd grew louder.

“In our new city there will be no cultists, cabalists, or witchery, and we will work together to prove our devotion. In a place of pure faith, there will be none to commit the crimes of kidnapping, and any who hold true will enjoy Krienta’s protection!”

The crowd roared.

“I hereby proclaim the founding of the
Pious Empire of Ossard
, the first city-state of the Inquisition!”

The noise rose to be deafening.

Anton raised his hands and went on, his voice miraculously clear, “Will you stand with us and save yourselves and your city?”

And in their rapture they cried out that they would.

Above it all came a clarion call, but the players were nowhere to be seen. Their work rang out in notes pure and strong, making their listeners’ souls sing.

“The Church will rule your city and work for this crisis to be over. When Ossard is secure, we will then seek out other places of sin that may one day threaten to return the blight!

“We will start a crusade!

“We will seek out heresy!

“And we will establish missions in Fletland and
woeful lost Evora
!”

The shimmering forms of winged angels materialised above him, scores of them, and each played a long golden horn. Robed in white, they smiled with beautiful faces marked by nothing; not age, pox, nor ill form.

The crowd grew louder, many letting tears run free. Most cried out of miracles and offered still more devotion.

The angels finished their clarion call and dove down to glide over the square. They swooped low to lay their hands on the sick, to bless the needy, and to chase away any lingering despair.

How could any doubt the Inquisitor and his declared pious empire? How could any doubt the future when it came heralded by angels?

Those devoted to Krienta poured in from across the city to replace the followers of the new saints as they left.

And amidst it all, in the centre of the crush, I remained alone and forsaken.

Having got what I came for, to know the future of the Inquisition’s Ossard, I made to go.

I began to cross the square as one of the angels glided down, unknowingly heading straight for me. At the last moment, he looked up, but then averted his eyes as he set his great wings beating. He still passed above, but at a greater height, and I swear that as he did he shivered.

It reminded me of Anton’s words; that the city’s factions feared me.

Was I something to fear?

With my anger stewing over my missing daughter and husband, I knew the answer; and it was yes. Deep within me a power stirred, and it was only just beginning.

After leaving the square, and those loyal to the Church, I passed through those who’d given themselves to the new saints. They headed towards the port district to where the razed warehouse had stood, lured by the swirling column of blessings.

I left it all, heading back down the main avenue and towards home.

The future of the city seemed clear: It divided three ways, two powered by gods, the other by a strong sense of community not without its own divine help.

As Anton had said; the city would have to be washed in blood. Now I believed him.

I arrived at my parents’home to be greeted by one of their maids. The young woman failed to stifle a gasp when she opened the door. I could sense it, she was frightened, her mind crying out, “The Forsaken Lady!”

I was surprised to see a fellow Flet so affected. She seemed confused and unsure. I didn’t sense that she’d pledged herself to the new saints, perhaps just to the street’s gossip.

My mother took her place. “Where’ve you been, we’ve been worried?” The maid retreated into the shadows.

I said, “Sorry, is Father back from the Guild?”

“He’s in the rose garden.”

“Is Sef with him?”

Surprised at the question, she answered, “Yes?”

I nodded and stepped past her.

I found them in the courtyard sitting on the benches by the roses I’d planted almost five years ago. Strangely, as the city slipped towards chaos, the bushes seemed to have decided to bloom.

Father looked pale and his face was grim. “Oh Juvela, are you well?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

He nodded, but kept looking at me to check me over. Finally he said, “I’ve been talking to the Guild, to Heinz Kurgar, they can’t help - not to find Pedro and Maria. They’ve too much else to worry about.”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry Juvela, but they think they’re going to be shut down by the Church, so they’re preparing to go underground.”

Sef watched him, but his eyes just as often darted to me. I realised that his vision focused not on this world, but the next, the celestial. He sat beside my father surveying my soul.

He also had power!

Slipping my perception into the celestial, I couldn’t read his emotions or see any telltale glow or spark. If anything, it was his soul’s blandness that gave him away. It was a false image, all too ordinary - something he projected to hide his true self.

Could I trust him?

It was Sef…

Of course I could.

I said, “The Inquisitor has declared Ossard the first city-state of a new and pious empire. He has also denounced and ordered the ruin of the Lordship, the Council, and both the Flet and Merchant Guilds as he blames them for the city’s demise. He won’t help us. He’s too busy using this as an opportunity to take power.”

My father asked, “That was the proclamation?”

“Yes.”

“You were there?”

“Yes, along with tens of thousands of people - and angels! Father, something terrible is coming. The city is divided three ways; the old of St Baimio, those of the new saints, and the Flets. The gods are at war, but it’ll be the ordinary people who suffer.”

My grandmother’s voice hissed, “Not all of us are ordinary!”

Sef looked to me and nodded.

Had he heard?

Father sat quietly, but after consideration asked, “And what of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mother tells me that she gave you your grandmother’s book. Can you use it? Will it keep you safe, or will it just see you burnt at the stake by Anton and his ilk as he did her?”

Anton had claimed my grandmother?

He looked me over, sensing something different. “Sweet Juvela, I don’t want to lose you, and least of all to the Inquisition.”

“I’m changed, it’s true, but I’ll be safe. I’m more worried about you and Mother.”

Shaking his head, he whispered, “Juvela, what’s happening?”

In truth I didn’t know. I knew bits and pieces, but only a little more than he did. I shrugged. “What of Heinz Kurgar and the Guild?”

“Like I said, he’s worried that they’ll be shut down.”

“It
is
going to be shut down. Does he have a plan?”

“He wants to take the Guild’s workings into hiding.”

“Father, our people
are
going to be used as scapegoats. We can’t let that happen. Don’t let Kurgar take the Guild underground, let it stand tall and proud as a symbol of hope. When the trouble starts our people will need something to rally to.”

He asked, “What can we do?”

“Gather our people into Newbank, two thirds of our number are already here and most of the rest on the riverbank opposite. We should then take control of the bridge. If we can hold it, we can be safe. Once we’ve done that the Guild can govern us.”

My father spluttered, “You talk of insurrection!”

“Father, the city’s already divided. Let the Heletians work out their differences and then we can deal with the victor.”

He thought about it, his eyes wandering over the rose garden. “It might work.” He looked up to meet my gaze. “Where did you get such wisdom?”

I frowned. “Wise women don’t lose their families.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Perhaps he was right. “Father, has anything been said about where Pedro and Maria might have been taken?”

“Nothing for certain, only suggestions of the port district. Some of the guildsmen also talked of the Inquisitor’s linking of the cults and Santana. They think he’s right, but not all agree.”

“There’s something else you should know.”

“What?”

“There’s another new saint.”

“Another?”

“I heard people speak of a Saint Malsano.”

My father shook his head. “How can this be?” He looked about as if even in the privacy of his own courtyard he no longer felt safe. “We’ve heard that the followers of Saint Santana want to build a chapel on the ashes of the razed warehouse. They’re claiming that it’ll purify the ground. It leaves me to wonder; could they actually be trying to build something there to use the ritual’s power?”

His words stuck in my mind. Could the cults use whole bloodlines to sanctify such a building, some kind of dark temple? And would that blood be Maria’s and Pedro’s, or did they need the bloodlines for something else?

I began to feel anxious. I had to get started on my search and go to see the ruined warehouse. “I’m sorry, Father, but I must go. Have the Guild stay open, our people will need it.”

He nodded, but was reluctant to see me leave. “Where?”

“To look for Maria and Pedro.”

“It’s too dangerous. There are people out there who blame
you
for all this.”

“Sorry, but I must.”

He stood and took a step towards me. “I still can’t believe you went to Market Square by yourself.” And his gaze moved to Sef, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. “You were lucky not to be arrested!”

“Father, I appreciate your concern, but don’t blame Sef. I insisted on going alone. No one touched me. In fact they went out of their way to avoid me. They’re scared of me.”

He reached out to put his hands on my shoulders, looking me lovingly in the eyes. “Juvela, frightened people can do terrible things. Remember our history; during Def Turtung the Lae Velsanans nearly destroyed our people, and in turn they brought down their own dominion. They didn’t do it because of hate, but because of fear. Don’t tempt the masses of Ossard, they’re more scared of you right now than the Lae Velsanans ever were of us.”

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