The Light of Heaven (25 page)

She didn't even fall.

She yelled, not in pain, but in pure primal anger and ran at Batsen, swords raised high. Batsen, astounded, called upon the shadows to hide him and darted aside. Unbelievably, she followed right after him.

Now Batsen could feel something. It was fear, thick and cloying, and filling his head to the point where he couldn't think.

Terrified, he gathered the air around him, thickening it so that it would cup him and carry him up on to the roof of the nearest building. From there, he fled. Gabriella pounded after him along the street below, screaming with rage and loss. She shouldered citizens aside as she leapt for an awning against a shop front and clambered up onto a low roof. There she stopped. The man had disappeared. She could see several streets in either direction and he was nowhere to be seen.

Gabriella jumped back down to street level, caught her breath and all the desire to keep standing fled from her body. She slumped to her knees, too exhausted to keep in the sobs that her pounding heart and head were letting out.

As people came to see what was happening, she curled into a ball and cried.

Travis Crowe had woken to the sound of iron on iron and screams. He hadn't even realised that he had fallen asleep, though he had been bone tired when he sat down to take a few minutes rest in the stable.

He jumped to his feet and looked for his sword but it wasn't in the stable, so he grabbed a long, loose coat from a hook and went to search for it. He found it in the vestry, where had left it, and ran out into the church. There he saw smashed pews and shattered flagstones. On the floor was a charred corpse and he recognised by the mail and fragments of blue cloth - but mostly by the sword lying near it - that it was Erak Brand.

"Sorry mate," he muttered, "but rather you than me."

He heard shouts from outside and ran to the door. He was just in time to see Gabriella fall, struck by a bolt of magical fire. There was a man there too, dressed in black. Gabriella, to his amazement, climbed to her feet and went at the man in black, who flew to the rooftops, where he fled.

"Batsen," he snarled.

He followed Gabriella as she ran, only to turn a corner and find her sobbing on the ground. People stood around, looking concerned but at a loss as to what to do.

Cursing the Faith for not teaching their flock any practical skills, Crowe rounded on the nearest man.

"You! Help me get her inside the church."

The man grabbed Gabriella's legs and Crowe lifted her by the shoulders. The two men carried Gabriella through to the Enlightened One's apartment beyond the vestry and lay her on the bed. Crowe and the shopkeeper then returned to the ruined interior of the church.

"What happened here?" the man whispered. "More goblins?"

"No, this guy was human. More or less." Crowe looked at the charred corpse lying in the remnants of a blue robe. "Looks like you people need another Enlightened One."

When Gabriella awoke she wailed with dismay. If she had died, at least she would still be with Erak, in the clouds of Kerberos. Instead she was in bed, alone. Summoned by the sound she had made, the door opened, and for a heartbeat she thought it was Erak and that she had simply had a nightmare.

It was Travis Crowe, more sombre than usual. He had let his white hair out of its ponytail and was re-tying it as he entered.

"Who dressed my wounds?" Gabriella looked around. "And where is she."

"You're looking at 'her,' pet." Crowe said, with uncharacteristic solemnity. He'd never seen a Knight of the Swords blush before.

She scrambled to her feet with a snarl. "How dare you!"

She reached for a blade that wasn't there.

Crowe spread his hands. "Don't worry, Dez. You haven't got anything I haven't seen in a dozen whorehouses, all right? Besides, open wounds and flowing blood aren't my idea of a turn-on. Maybe there are blokes around who get off on that, but that ain't me." Gabriella stopped looking around, and composed her expression, but her cheeks remained flushed. "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. Mind you, considering how much blood you lost, it's a good sign that there's enough left to reach your cheeks."

Gabriella patted at the dressings with her fingertips, wanting to scratch at the strange sensations under them, but not daring.

"Painful?" Crowe asked.

"Not exactly, just strange."

He nodded blandly. "That'll be the maggots getting busy."

Her gorge rose and her stomach clenched. "The what?"

"Do I look like a Healer? I used some maggots to eat away at anything that might otherwise go sour. It's an old mercenary trick, but it works." He waved a hand. "Got a Healer in as well. He liked the maggots; says he'll take them up himself."

Gabriella gritted her teeth until she thought they might crack. It didn't stop the pain that forced tears from her. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and saw only Erak.

She wanted to hit someone, or break something. "Let me out of here," she rasped, pulling on a surplice, but not so quickly that Crowe didn't notice the red stains beginning to show through her bandages.

"You shouldn't move, God-girl. You were cut up pretty good and that won't heal overnight. You need to rest."

"No. Especially not here."

"It's a church. You're a Sister in a religious order. Can you think of a better place?"

"This was Erak's place," she said. "Maybe it's one I could have shared with him in time, but without him..."

Crowe understood. "Without him, it feels strange, not like any other church? It feels weird and somehow less than a normal church, yeah?"

"That assassin..."

"Batsen."

"You know him?"

Crowe shrugged. "By reputation, more than anything else. Have you heard of the Guild of Shadowmages? The old guild in Turnitia, I mean?"

"Of course. The Swords helped the Empire of Vos to smash it."

"Yeah. You know why?"

Gabriella thought for a moment. "It was before my time, but we were taught that they, or at least the Lord Defender, thought the Shadowmages were assassins and terrorists."

Crowe nodded. "That's what most people think of the Shadowmages. But it ain't true. I've known a couple of them and most of them aren't like that at all."

"And even if that was the case, which I doubt, your point is...?"

He dug a small clay pipe from the folds of his tattered coat and lit it. "Dai Batsen is the reason that most people think the way they do about Shadowmages." He grimaced. "Every nightmare story anyone ever heard about a rogue Shadowmages - and, believe me, I've heard a few - he's the one who the story is really about. He's a bloody one-man terror campaign. Pay him and he'll do anything to anybody, no questions asked, no morals or scruples involved. And yeah, I know that sounds pretty ironic coming from me, but you just think about it. Compared to him, I'm on the straight and narrow."

"Compared to you?"

Crowe shrugged and sat back against the wall. He closed his eyes and folded his arms, gripping the pipe between his teeth. "Look, love, I'll kill for money, rob, steal, take down anyone I think is in my way. Whatever I have to do to make my way, I'll do it if I have to. Because I have to. Batsen isn't like that. He'd do those things for practice, if he wasn't so bloody expensive. Thinks of himself as a bloody artist or something. Proud of being unique, he is."

"This Batsen sounds pretty serious."

"The most serious," Crowe confirmed. "So serious, in fact, that I don't want to be anywhere near you when he comes for you next. And he will."

"Unless I get him first."

"Funny you should say that; it's exactly what I was thinking. He and I have some unfinished business, you know."

"I wish I could say I was surprised." She got up, wincing. "If you know where he'll be, you can take me to him. I want to know who hired him and I want to kill the bastard. For Erak."

"Me too," Crowe muttered. "Just not for Erak." He cleared his throat. "I doubt Batsen will be talkative."

"He'd better be. If he was hired by who I think hired him, we're going to have a chat before I cut his bollocks off and feed them to him."

A rogue Shadowmage was all Gabriella needed. Somehow she knew she ought to be more afraid of such a person and she found herself wondering why she wasn't. She had never been sure what to think of magic. Oh, there were Healers among the Enlightened Ones and a few with other talents had found a home in the hierarchy of the Final Faith, so magic itself couldn't be totally unholy. Having said that, if the talent was a gift from the Lord of All, to be used as a tool in His name, then using it for any other purpose was a sin.

She supposed it was much the same as the moral turpitude that led to whoring; wasting something that was meant for a higher purpose in bringing Man closer to being one with God. Grimacing, she reached for her armour.

"Leave him to me, Dez. You're wounded." Crowe said.

"I have a duty, sinner," she reminded him. "And you need to redeem yourself."

"You'd be surprised," Crowe said with a glower.

"Let's go, or by all that's holy, I'll burn you for supplying... whatever you supplied to the Huntress."

"All right," he relented at last. "But let's not get you any more mangled than you are, at least while so many of your friends are around. We'll do this my way: I'll draw him out and make him safe, then you get your turn."

"Oh, I'll be having my turn all right," she vowed and Crowe shivered. "And Erak's turn too."

CHAPTER 13

It was just a tumbledown old church with grass for a floor and plants and flowers sprouting from the walls.

It was shaded with every colour daylight could bring and full of the richest textures an artist could dream of. Then Crowe looked up, where the roof-beams hung down like broken teeth, and felt the church's beauty fade into intimidation. He nodded to himself. This was just like Batsen. Hired to kill a member of the Faith, he would hide out in one of their old buildings.

There was not much left of the town that this church, a league east of Solnos, had served. There was a dried-up watercourse at the west end and Crowe suspected that the township had dried up with it. Most of the surrounding buildings had collapsed and rotted, but the church, built of stone, had survived the decades. He idly wondered whether Batsen had come across the place by chance, or somehow already knew it was here.

Either way, he had made it an ideal camp. The crypt even still had an intact roof, so Batsen needed no tent.

Crowe had been watching for a couple of hours before Batsen finally deigned to show himself, appearing up out of the crypt like a bloodsucker in some old Gargas tale. He had lit the braziers and begun to assemble breakfast.

Crowe slipped out from behind a pillar and whipped his arm around Batsen's neck. Batsen immediately tried to throw him over his shoulder, but Crowe had expected that and kicked Batsen's knees out from under him. Erak dropped to maintain the choke-hold and soon the assassin was unconscious.

Crowe swiftly searched him for concealed weapons and found a pair of long bodkins and a couple of knives, before tying Batsen's hands.

"Hello Dai. Thought I'd find you here." Batsen started, his eyes darting to either side in anticipation. He outstretched his hands, his brow knitting in concentration. "Your taste in accommodations hasn't changed much, has it?"

"I know where I'm safe. You don't, Travis. You never did, or you never would have come looking for me."

"I have my reasons."

"What do you want with me?"

"There's a man in Turnitia who takes a vested interest in certain things associated with members of your jolly little profession."

"Pro or con?"

"Both, depending on the circumstances."

"And he's interested in me?"

"Not unless you were in Kalten for the Ducal wedding."

"Ah," Batsen said with a smile. "Ludwig Rhodon."

"Was that you?"

"If it was, it would be between me and my paymaster. But, as it happens, no. Not my doing."

Crowe heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Gabriella.

"What did you say about Eminence Rhodon, scum?" She said, rushing over to Batsen. "Were you behind it? Is that why came after me and Erak?"

"I've no idea why I was hired to kill you. It doesn't matter in any case; all that matters is that I complete my contract and collect my fee." Batsen said blandly, then he exploded into action, a spinning kick sending Crowe's blade flying. The rope binding his wrists burned to ashes in a second. Eyes closed, Batsen leapt high into the air, hurling a sizzling blizzard of sharp hail from his body. The ice storm coiled its way to Crowe, who lashed out at a brazier with one foot. The ice flashed into steam as the hot coals met it head-on.

Batsen cupped a small flame between his hands before hurling it at Gabriella.

She turned her head away instinctively, but too late to stop the fire from hitting her. She didn't feel a thing, though green and purple spots danced in front of her eyes when the brightness of the flame disappeared. Cursing herself for being taken in by some mere distraction, she lunged for him.

Batsen skipped backwards as she attacked.

"What are you?" he hissed. "The darkness, the fire -"

A punch in the face ended his question, but he rolled with it, spinning away and coming into a guarded stance.

He gathered his powers around himself, rising into the air as it crackled with energy. Gabriella ran, stretching up one hand to grab at his ankle. The instant her fingertips brushed the cloth of his trews, he plummeted down onto the ground.

Gabriella wasn't going to give him a chance to use any more magic, but immediately rammed her blade through him.

Batsen, looking utterly surprised, spat out blood. Breathing seemed to make him wince and Gabriella could tell he was barely managing to cling to each second of life. He would be lucky to draw more than half a dozen more breaths.

"I know you're working for Goran Kell" Gabriella snarled. Batsen only laughed, an agonised, bubbling sound. "But you're not going to stop me finding him."