The Light of Heaven (37 page)

He lowered his helm and galloped on to the field, nineteen other Knights fanning out behind him.

The ground passed under Gabriella's horse with terrific speed, but she barely felt the bumpiness of the ride. It was as if the horse was gliding through clouds already. With no helm, she could feel the wind in her hair and it was exquisite. If this was to be her last living sensation, it was a good one.

She didn't even realise she was whooping with delight.

She waved at the oncoming Knights, gesturing northeast, and angling her mount that way.

Crowe felt much the same. So he would die here. It was as good a time as any. He was vaguely aware of his hand raising a pole with a white sheet tied to it, but he didn't really believe a helmeted Knight would even notice the sheet until it was too late.

He didn't realise he was screaming like a banshee either.

DeBarres lowered his lance, ready to drive it through the leading rider's chest. It was only a matter of seconds now... Something white flickered out the corner of his eye, and he realised it was a surplice just like the one he himself was wearing. It was a surplice of the Faith, of the Order of the Swords of Dawn.

Then he recognised the shock of copper hair and shouted.

"It's DeZantez!"

Hoping he wasn't too late, he let go his lance and made the signal to abort the charge.

The slipstream of the armoured Knights passing within inches of his side almost pulled Crowe from his mount. He looked across to see Gabriella standing in her stirrups, beckoning to one of the Knights.

He wheeled his horse around and moved to join Gabriella as the Knight approached. The other Knights were circling uncertainly and she was able to encourage them to continue moving slightly further north and east, towards the valley's steep wall.

The one to whom Gabriella had beckoned pulled off his helm and Crowe recognised DeBarres' pitted face.

"What took you so bloody long?" DeBarres yelled, astounded.

"Hunting Kell," Gabriella called back. "He's dead and so are his friends."

"I hope you've got a lot of quills ready," DeBarres grinned. "I'll want a full report and any intelligence you found in there."

"Preceptor!" Another Knight shouted. He pointed westward. "They're getting away!"

It was true. Men, women and children, both mounted and on foot, were swarming out of the gatehouse and running west. Some mercenaries were emerging from the Faith camp, but they were too far from the gatehouse to have a chance of intercepting the fleeing people.

"Gabriella?" DeBarres asked.

"Prisoners," she explained. "Slaves and victims of Kell and the Brotherhood."

DeBarres looked around one more time, then signalled to his men, who formed up around Gabriella and Crowe.

"Let's go, then!"

They galloped out across the field, heading for the Order's encampment and Crowe could already feel a familiar sensation. He could hear it too; the air itself buzzing. Everyone looked up at the sky. The heavens were parting.

"What the hell is that?" DeBarres roared.

"Hell is right," Crowe shouted over the din.

"Not hell," Gabriella shouted. "Heaven! Can't you hear it?"

Gabriella dismounted and fell to her knees in awe. She was only the first as they all followed.

The air was not just humming but singing, a high pitched trill that rose and rose. On the neighbouring peaks the snow was evaporating and rising up with the mountain's song.

Travis Crowe was on his knees too, just as awe-struck. Much as he despised the Faith and the Brotherhood, he had no doubt that this was the Lord Of All at work. It wouldn't make him waste his time going to what some other bloke or woman thought was a holy event, but it was beautiful to watch.

The mountain was glowing; light flared from the heart of it and the white crystal surface brightened like the dawn.

A maw seemed to open in the face of Kerberos, and suddenly cleansing light, far brighter and purer than mere whiteness, punched a hole through the skies over the peaks surrounding Freedom Point.

A shockwave of explosive sound blasted out across the slopes. Men and women all clutched at their ears and some even fell. It was as if all the souls in the clouds of Kerberos had loosed a war-cry to turn the bones of every still-living soldier to jelly.

"What is that?" one of Kesar's attendants yelled over the explosive din.

"Magic!"

"No sorcerer is that powerful!"

"The Lord of All is!"

Across the terraces, grass and flowers exploded into flame and disappeared in the wink of an eye. The dry stone walls began to glow a deep red and the stones themselves began to melt together. Tents and yurts vanished, instantly reaching their materials' flashpoint. The city that the people had brought with them was cleansed as if it had never sullied the mountain with its presence.

The rock faces of Freedom Point itself began to shift, not in a landslide, but in a bizarre, slow churn. The blazing white rock flowed smoothly, like butter. Inside, every piece of furnishing, and every corpse in the palace complex flashed into light and vanished. Superheated air burned pure gold, swimming through every tunnel and every corridor, sealing them tightly.

Then the icy white fire blazed out in all directions.

And then it was just as suddenly gone.

Gabriella had never seen anything so beautiful.

The peak of Freedom Point was still glowing, a pure copper tone, the shade of Gabriella's hair. "The Lord of All," she whispered.

"The Lord came and touched the world." She wished that Erak could have seen this.

It was wonderful and everything she had done, everything that had happened at Freedom Point, right now was absolutely worth it. She wouldn't have changed any of it for the world.

Beside her, Crowe was on his knees, shaking.

"Bloody hell," he kept mumbling, over and over. "Bloody hell."

Gabriella was right about one thing, he decided. That was God touching the world. Just reaching out like it was no effort at all to reach from one world to the next. Or, more accurately, from the next world to this one.

It was the Lord Of All, right there in front of his eyes; no doubts, no questions. He had seen the Lord at the Isle of the Star too; he just hadn't known what he was seeing. It had been too big, too fabulous, for his brain to take in.

He also saw that the Lord paid no heed to either the Faith or the Brotherhood. He threw back his head and laughed. All those petty people insisting that the Lord wanted things done their way, and here the Lord had come and not given a monkey's toss who was doing things which way. It was perfect. It was wonderful. It was as if the Lord of All had shown him that just to prove that he was right not to trust either faith.

He rose and held Gabriella. She didn't pull away. "It was the Lord of All," he said.

"It was." She managed a smile. "You believe now?"

"In the Lord of All? Always did, like a good soldier. It's just you God-botherers I don't believe in."

Preceptor DeBarres was the first to look away from Freedom. All across the valley, little groups of people were picking themselves up and beginning to walk or ride away.

He walked towards Gabriella and Crowe.

"Gabriella?" She looked round, and he saw the beatific smile that he knew he was wearing too. "We should get back."

"Back?"

"To the Order's encampment, to start with. Out of this valley, eventually. I'm sure you two could do with some food and a change of clothes, if nothing else."

Gabriella blinked. "Yes, I suppose..."

"Now that you mention it," Crowe said, "I do feel a bit peckish. And I could murder a drink."

As they mounted up and cantered towards the Order's camp, DeBarres leaned in close to Gabriella. "There's something you need to know. I think others knew what would happen at Freedom."

"What others?"

"Eminence Kesar." He caught her gaze with his, and she could see that he was aware of the severity of what he had just said. She didn't quite nod, but briefly lowered her eyes in a way that implied a nod. "I won't pretend to know what it means," he went on, "and I suggest that you don't either."

"I'm not the pretending type," she said. "I'll leave that to Crowe."

A few weeks later, Eminences Rodrigo Kesar, Jan Voivode and Ludwig Rhodon were sat round a large table, going over scrolls of each others' reports on the events in Pontaine and at Freedom Point.

"Remarkable," Voivode was saying. "If only I could have been there, to see the Lord's clear light."

"It was," Kesar agreed.

"So, the assassination attempt on you, Ludwig, has been well avenged by Sister DeZantez and many people saved from the machinations of Kell and the Brotherhood. An excellent outcome. It's nice to have a victory to declare, after the lunacy of that business with Munch."

Rhodon looked unsure. "And yet many of those people who were saved from the Lord's power were almost certainly sinners and heretics. A minority, perhaps, but the numbers are unclear. What is clear," he went on slowly, "is that Sister DeZantez has shown... questionable judgement, at best."

"You question her judgement?"

"I would go so far as to describe her actions as apostasy."

Voivode slammed his hand on the tabletop as he rose angrily. "Eminence! That suggestion is beneath you! Sister DeZantez has always been one of my most devout knights. You insult Preceptor DeBarres and myself by suggesting that one of our students has in any way -"

Rodrigo Kesar watched the eyes of the two other Eminences. Voivode's eyes were filled with righteous passion and Kesar didn't think that could be faked. Not by Voivode, at any rate. He prided himself that he might have been able to pull off such a performance but, then, he had been portraying a public face for so long that he had almost forgotten how not to do it. Ludwig Rhodon, on the other hand, looked pained. Whether that pain was due to his wound, the thought of a betrayal by DeZantez, or some other issue, Kesar couldn't tell. Not yet.

"Eminences," he said quietly. "I have met Sister DeZantez on several occasions and found her an admirable Knight and an admirable Enlightened One. However, I have also met her friend Travis Crowe and he is certainly a man of, at best, dubious character and morality."

"He is a known associate of the Brotherhood," Rhodon insisted. "A gambler, smuggler of hard liquors, and worse. What possible reason could there be for an association between the two of them?

"DeZantez was also seen in the company of Sandor Feyn, a known Brotherhood figurehead."

"Whom she executed quite properly," Voivode snapped.

"And why was she trying to hunt down Feyn in the first place?" Rhodon asked. "It wasn't part of her duties. She was supposed to hunt Kell. And don't give me any nonsense about the list of proscribed men. Kell was a bigger target."

"It was at my suggestion," Kesar interrupted mildly. That shut both of the other Eminences up. "I find it troubles me when there is such a division between members of the Faith; especially between two such esteemed Eminences. It seems to me that there are questions which must be asked, when such an upset as this arises. Purely," he added, with a nod to Voivode, "to clear up any misunderstandings which may have arisen due to the confusion of recent times."

"Is this the Anointed Lord's opinion as well?" Voivode asked.

"I would never presume to speak for her when not specifically authorised to do so, upon a specific matter."

"Of course."

The light that was funnelled down to the Anointed Lord's audience chamber was fading by the time Kesar entered. Katherine Makennon was already waiting for him, her long dress and woven hair as radiant as the room itself. "I overhead the debate," she said. "Most interesting. Is there anything to Rhodon's concerns about this Sister DeZantez?"

"Probably not, but anything is possible."

"Taking an arrow is a very affecting thing, I suppose," she reflected, "especially when one can't then take personal revenge on the man who did it. It's possible he simply resents her having cheated him out of such revenge."

"The odds would favour that interpretation, yes."

"I've never played the odds, Rodrigo, you know that. You made the right call. Let's keep an eye on everyone who was involved with this matter: DeZantez, Rhodon, DeBarres, everyone."

"As your will, so mote it be," Kesar agreed. He backed out of the room, leaving Makennon to her devotions.

Epilogue

Gabriella had finally accepted the duty to tend the church in Solnos until a new Enlightened One could arrive, but it was obvious to Crowe that she didn't intend to stay long. She spent most of the first day after they arrived by Erak's grave.

Crowe found her there when he came to say goodbye. If he never saw another member of the Faith or the Brotherhood again, he'd be very happy. With one exception. "I'm sorry about..."

"You said that before. At the time."

"I thought you might be more willing to believe it this time, Dez," he said. "And also, I'm going."

"I thought you might."

"Church isn't my kind of place. Sooner or later the new Enlightened One will get the roasting gibbets working again, and... I've got loads of sins still unaccounted for."

"You could confess them to me."

"No, I couldn't. Not to you." He sighed. "I know you think you'd be doing me a favour, but sometimes I just don't want to be a burden. Seriously." He gestured towards the church's stable. "I don't suppose you could spare a horse?" He was already eyeing a strawberry roan that looked right for him.

"No, I couldn't."

"Pity." He threw a saddle onto the horse, and mounted up. "What can I say? I am a horse thief, among other things." He galloped off down the street, half hoping she'd pursue him, but also glad she didn't.

"You'll be paying for that someday, Sinner!" he heard her call. She didn't sound particularly convinced.

Gabriella watched him go, feeling a momentary pang of regret. She went back into the church and knelt before the altar. Closing her eyes, she prayed for strength and wisdom.