Neb looked up from the wheelbarrow and saw the riders from the south, a large group of them. He started counting horses but gave up-there was no way he could count them. There were too many.
Dropping the load of bones, he turned and ran for Petronus, shouting at the top of his lungs. The old man looked up from across the blackened field, but he was too far away for Neb to see the expression on his face. Other nearby workers stopped what they were doing until Petronus waved and shouted at them to get back to the task at hand.
Neb ran as fast as he could, but the riders still overtook him and he fought his way through the storm of ash they kicked up. As it cleared he saw they had surrounded Petronus, and a large man on an enormous stallion-Sethbert, he realized-leaned down to speak with the old man.
Neb approached but stayed off to the side, listening. “I thought,” Sethbert said, “you were in Kendrick.” Petronus bowed. “I went, Lord. I’ve come back.”
Sethbert snorted. “I see that. And what exactly are you doing?”
Neb watched as the cavalry around Sethbert surveyed the group, quickly counting heads. An unfelt breeze lifted ash from the ground and he heard a low whistle. “We’re here,” a voice said in the faintest whisper. Neb nodded and his stomach went to water.
“We are burying our dead,” Petronus said.
“Surely,” Sethbert said, “you are aware that an Exercise in Holiness has been decreed?”
Petronus nodded. “We’ve been very careful not to enter the city itself. We were going to wait until we had your permission to suspend the Exercise for humanitarian reasons. It is my understanding that precedence was set for this by-”
Sethbert raised his hand. “I know, I know. I’m not a fool, old man. I know a bit about Androfrancine
Law. But we can move past that. I will do far more than grant you permission.”
Neb saw a pained look cross Petronus’s face, as if he knew what Sethbert was going to say next and dreaded its outcome.
Sethbert straightened himself up as high as he could in the saddle, his jowls shaking as he jiggled around. “Bring them in,” he shouted to his men. “Bring them all in.” The soldiers started herding the workers.
He smiled down at them, and his horse danced a bit while they waited. When everyone was gathered, he addressed them.
“I commend you all,” Sethbert said, “for the work you have undertaken. It is a noble thing that you do.” His eyes scanned the crowd, making contact with theirs if he could. “Petros here has said there is a loophole in Androfrancine Law that would allow me to grant you permission to enter Windwir for humanitarian reasons. I will go further than that,” he said, his voice raising as he said it. “I will underwrite this venture on behalf of the Androfrancine Order and as Windwir’s appointed Guardian, I will protect you as you work. Every one of you will get a fair day’s wage for a hard day’s work and I’ll send a contingent of cooks and supplies.”
Perhaps he expected a cheer to go up. It did not. Petronus looked at him, his eyes hard. “We don’t do this work for money, Sethbert. We do it because it needs to be done.”
Sethbert snorted. “Exactly.” He leaned down. “Look, old man, whether you want it or not, you’ll have my help or you’ll not be permitted to enter the city.”
Petronus gritted his teeth. “It won’t change how the world sees you when it knows what you have done,”
he said quietly. Then he spit at Sethbert.
Neb watched the look on Sethbert’s face shift from shock to fury. He wiped the spittle away, and when his foot shot out it was fast and hard. The boot hit Petronus’s jaw, and the old man was spun around as he fell. Neb raced in but wasn’t able to hold him up. They fell together into the ash. Sethbert glowered down at them. “One last condition,” he said. “Anything you find here belongs to the Androfrancine Order. I will send men daily to collect whatever you may happen to find. I already have at least one spy in your camp and I will know if you try to cheat me.” Sethbert smiled. “Do you understand me?”
Petronus rubbed his jaw, his eyes bright and dangerous. “I understand you.”
Then Sethbert noticed Neb. “Did you find your voice, boy? Are you ready to tell me the story of the
Desolation of Windwir?”
Their eyes locked and Neb felt himself shiver. He couldn’t move. Sethbert laughed. “I didn’t think so.”
As he turned and rode away, Neb watched him go. Suddenly, he wished he’d never met Pope Petronus. If he hadn’t, perhaps he would’ve found a way to kill Sethbert.
But the look on Petronus’s face, the fire in his eye, the ice in his voice-they resonated deep inside Neb.
It won’t change how the world sees you when it knows what you have done.
Perhaps, Neb thought, someone else would make Sethbert pay for his sin.