Mud spattered up from under hoof as a column of riders passed down a trail at speed. The bridleway was wide, the silver birches set far enough back that no-one need fear being pitched from their mount by a stray branch. The horses were a motley bunch of breeds and colours, and all but one of the riders wore shields strapped to their backs and iron helms, tinted to the shade of blood by the sun.
As the valley widened, and threads of smoke became visible rising from below, a second group of hooded riders waited in a village so small it didn't even have a name. A farm at each end was separated by a few stone cottages and wattle fences. A river of churned mud running parallel to the fencing passed for a road through fields frosted white. A forested ridgeline on the horizon separated the countryside from the cliffs of Kalten. The two groups met in the middle of the village and one man from each side dismounted to meet the other.
"Scarra," Goran Kell said. He carried himself like a soldier, or a noble, and despaired of the slouching fat man. Scarra was far from ascetic, and far from a fighter, but his family was rich, and that made him useful.
"Everything is prepared, Kell. Our man knows what he has to do. There's backup to cover his escape."
Kell smiled mirthlessly. "There's been a change of plan." He beckoned to a tired-looking youth who was waiting in his entourage, on a tired-looking horse. The youth trotted forward. "Tell Scarra what you've just told me."
"Ludwig Rhodon was shot not an hour ago."
"Excellent news!" Scarra exclaimed. "You know, my boy, I have had my doubts about this scheme, but it's a great relief to know that it was merely needless worry." A frown crossed his face. "Actually, isn't it a little early? I thought it was supposed to happen at the feast."
"Oddly enough," Kell said calmly, "I thought that too. I know that, and you know that. But it would have been nice if you'd made absolutely certain that Lukas knew that as well."
"He knew! Of course he knew the plan!"
Kell's expression didn't change. "Someone didn't. So I'm changing the follow-up, just in case. We can't remain in this area. The Swords of Dawn are scouring all of Kalten. I suggest you find a safe territory for a few days. That's certainly what I shall be doing."
Scarra stiffened. "You can't just leave like this!"
Kell raised an eyebrow. "You'd prefer if I stayed here, got caught, and told the Confessors where to find you?"
"We should — "
"We should leave and neither of us should tell the other where he's going." With that, Goran Kell returned to his horse and rode away, his entourage falling in behind him.
Karel Scarra suddenly felt very cold and alone. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be rising among his peers, basking in the glow of history.
He turned and walked back to his retinue. The waiting mercenaries wore tabards bearing a red dagger. By the time he reached them, he had worked out how to tell them that Kell had messed things up and fled. Yes, that explanation would suffice. The brighter thought struck him that perhaps he could make some advantage out of this. He had spent a great deal in bribes lately, so perhaps he could recoup some of the costs now, cutting down on some more outlay.
He composed himself, arranging his features into an expression that mixed anger, apology and, hopefully, some charm. He mounted his horse before addressing his personal guard of mercenaries, feeling that he would be more commanding from the saddle than from the ground.
"My friends, we are betrayed!" he announced dramatically. "Something has happened in Kalten that was not part of Kell's plan. And Kell has decided to flee, abandoning us to our fate. I have decided that we should not go with him, as he will doubtless lead us to disaster."
"What's the plan?" a shaven-headed mercenary with large ears and a scar across his brow demanded.
"We'll make for the vineyard, Hasso. There I shall pay you my share of your wage, and we'll decide our next — "
"Wait," Hasso snapped. He nudged his horse next to Scarra's, as the other men murmured among themselves. "What do you mean, your half?"
"Kell has taken half our funds with him."
Scarra felt a sudden chill. His instinct for survival struggled with his instinct to be tight with his money, and it was a case of the proverbial irresistible force meeting the immovable object. He smiled beatifically, hiding his fear.
"We hired you together, but while he robs you, I will stand by my promise, and pay what I owe…"
"You mean half of what we are owed, don't you?"
Scarra considered throwing himself on their mercy, but couldn't bring himself to do so. They were his employees, after all. Most of them were just thugs, not particularly intelligent and he was sure he could convince them that the absence of Kell meant the absence of half their fee. Scarra himself, of course, had been the richer of the two, and he could have paid the mercenaries their full fee many times over, but it was much more satisfying to smear Kell for running out on him.
"If Kell has stolen from you, there is little that I can do."
"We could ride after him," Hasso pointed out, "and take it."
"We could," the Captain of the Red Daggers said at last, "but we won't. We'd be fighting our own."
"Since when did that stop us, Sarkos?"
"Cut it out, Hasso," Sarkos snapped. He sighed. "Scarra has a point." Hasso grunted derisively. "And so long as you're in the Red Daggers, you'll show some respect to our employers."
"Respect?" Hasso scoffed. "You're going to swallow his guff and keep working?" He shook his head. "You might be that way inclined, but I can't say I am."
Captain Sarkos nodded slowly. "Like I said, as long as you're in the Red Daggers."
Hasso balled his fists, digging his nails into the palms. This was how he and his fellows were rewarded for their service? Short-changed? His right hand reached for his sword, but he stayed it just before grabbing the hilt.
He didn't want to kill the men he'd been serving with. Sarkos was a good man in a fight, even if he wasn't sensible about money. Most importantly, Sarkos was good enough that Hasso wasn't sure he could take him; not if the rest of the company sided with Sarkos.
There were too many men in the company, and most of them, like Sarkos, were cheap enough to accept the pittance that Scarra offered them. Most of them used to work for cheap protection rackets and were used to being paid a couple of copper pieces; they didn't know what a real professional soldier's wage should be.
Hasso was a real professional soldier, however, and he was used to being paid at least a silver piece per day and that was what Scarra had originally promised. He grimaced, knowing that he should have known better than to trust the word of the fat man. There was little, if any, sincerity visible in Scarra's eyes or audible in his voice when he spoke.
"I didn't sign on for half-pay," Hasso said bluntly. "You're right, Sarkos, I've no place in the Red Daggers." He reined his horse in, and walked it slowly away from the other mercenaries. "I'll take my cut of your half now." He held out a hand.
Scarra hesitated. Perhaps he should order the others to attack Hasso. He was, after all, just one man against several. Then again, he was a good fighter, and Scarra dreaded to think what would happen if he triumphed. He knew that Hasso would kill him, and not swiftly. There would be pain and… And he didn't want to think about that.
He counted out the appropriate number of coins from his purse and slapped them into Hasso' hand.
"I am a fair man," he said primly. "I will always pay you what I owe you."
"You owe me this much again."
"Kell and I as a unit owe you this much again. I've paid my share."
Hasso scowled, and stuffed the coins into a pouch. He wheeled his horse away.
"Where are you going?"
Hasso considered for a moment, then gave a cruel smile. "I'm going to get the other half." He nudged his horse into a gallop, in the direction that Kell had gone. Sarkos and a few others drew swords, clearly intending to pursue him.
"Hold," Scarra said. He was tempted to let them kill Hasso, but after a few seconds' thought realised that Kell would do the job for him. Why risk the safety of the men he had left? It wasn't as if the mercenaries knew the details of his plans. "Kell will pay him off, one way or the other."
Sarkos sheathed his blade. "True enough."
If it was possible for an albino to appear pale Eminence Ludwig Rhodon was getting there. His skin was almost as transparent as melting ice. Rodrigo Kesar stood by the window as he watched the Healers conferring in whispers.
"Well?" Kesar finally asked.
"Eminence," the one closest to him began nervously. "We have been discussing the Eminence's situation, and — "
"I was listening. Will Eminence Rhodon survive?"
"Yes, Eminence," the Healer managed. "That is to say… With help, he should survive."
"Should. Not 'will'?"
"That is the… the unpleasant truth, Eminence."
Kesar nodded. "So be it. Certainty has its virtues, Healer, but not at the expense of the truth. If Eminence Rhodon does not survive, it will be a great loss, but at least I won't have to have you executed for breaking a promise."
It had been a long day for Gabriella and Erak, retelling their stories to various Confessors, and to their superiors in the Swords. They still wore their full armour, and had had no opportunity to eat anything since returning to the castle.
The Swords and the city guard had made several more arrests, and the Confessors were being kept as busy as the Duke's Inquisitors, but it had become increasingly clear that there were no other suspects as likely to be the assassin as Gabriella's late prisoner. His body had been returned to the castle, and the head was being shown to both guards and arrested suspects in the hope that someone would recognise him.
As the sun drifted behind Kerberos, Gabriella and Erak finally returned to the barracks and found three men waiting in the refectory. One was Eminence Kesar, the second was the Duke, and the last was Preceptor DeBarres.
"I don't know what you do to the Brotherhood, or Ogur, or anybody else," DeBarres rasped gruffly, "but you certainly scare the crap out of me." He and the two knights laughed together. "Good work. People will remember this day for the right reasons more than the wrong ones. Quick and decisive action from the Swords. They'll remember that."
"And not an assassination," The Eminence added. He stretched out a hand for them to kiss his signet ring. "Since Eminence Rhodon survives."
"Thanks be to the Lord of All." Gabriella said in a hushed voice. Erak repeated it after her.
"Thanks be to the Lord of All," Kesar echoed, "and to Healers, and to the incompetence of assassins." He turned to the Duke. "These are the two who caught the assassin, your grace."
"And made him talk?" Freihurr vom Kalten asked.
Gabriella looked, almost imperceptibly, to DeBarres and Eminence Kesar. Kesar nodded and Gabriella answered. "A little, your grace. He mentioned the Brotherhood, before he died."
Freihurr cocked an eyebrow. "Died?"
"He was trying to kill Sister DeZantez at the time," Erak pointed out.
"Nevertheless," Freihurr went on, "dead men tell no tales, and — "
"And we would have preferred him to be a little more chatty, your Grace," Gabriella agreed. "But, knowing the Brotherhood was involved, we can start looking at their members in the area."
"Do we know who they are?"
"We have a list of their senior figures," Kesar said, "extracted from various sources during the hearing of Confessions. Unfortunately, knowing a few names, which in all probability are aliases, doesn't guarantee finding the person. Nevertheless, DeBarres' men already have a wish-list of people we should like to speak to in general, and this event merely makes the desire more… urgent."
As the sun moved behind Kerberos and the world turned dull and grey Goran Kell turned his mount on to the game trail, and began to thread his way through the foliage. Once the trade road had vanished into the murk, Kell and his followers dismounted, and led their horses deeper into the woods.
Kell knew there were men out here and was on alert, trying to judge how long it would be before they reached them. He was still shocked when a hand suddenly reached across him to grab one shoulder and the icy tip of a short sword pricked his throat.
"It's raining blood," a voice said.
Kell coughed, trying to lubricate his throat. He hoped he was only imagining the sensation of blood slipping down his collar. "But… But the sun will be dry and bright." He sounded more hopeful, and less confident, than he intended.
The blade and the grip vanished and a shadowy figure reached past him to take the horse's reins. "You're early, sir."
"It's an extra day's pay to you and your men, Chaga." He didn't mind that his faithful soldier had threatened him. It was his duty, after all, to be sure that Kell wasn't an impostor disguised by magical or other means.
"It certainly is. Where are we going, sir?"
"Turnitia first, I think. And I want no interruptions from the Swords of Dawn."
Chaga grinned, showing missing teeth. "That goes without saying, sir."
The bath-house was a stone-walled chamber attached to the castle's largest tower. The water was heated by fires in the next room, before flowing down and into the wooden tubs. Gabriella handed her armour for cleaning and put the rest of her clothes into a large basket for the castle's staff to take for laundry later.
The water was refreshing, and Gabriella ducked under the surface, shaking her head to get any trace of the day's exertions out of her hair. She still felt tense, and wished it was so easy to wash away what had happened to Eminence Rhodon. His wound wouldn't disappear with warm water and soap.
A surge of water brought her back to herself and back to the surface. Erak was just settling in opposite.
"It's been a long day," he said, enjoying the soothing effect of the hot water.
"For everybody. Half the Order will probably be joining us any minute."
"Not unless they bring a battering ram, Gabe." He grinned, passing her a large iron key. "I thought you wouldn't want to be disturbed."
"I've been disturbed enough for one day," she admitted. "That man I caught… He was a maniac. Possessed, maybe."
"Then there's a well-fed demon in the pits."
She nodded. "Erak, do you think that that man was the same one who shot Eminence Rhodon?"
Erak slid round to sit next to her and leaned his head on her shoulder.
"You've nothing to be guilty or ashamed about. Unlike the rest of us."
"What have you got to be ashamed about?"
"You must be joking, Gabe. A whole troop of the Swords couldn't protect our own Eminences?"
"A determined assassin who doesn't care for his own life will always get through."
"Next time try to sound like you believe that."
"Don't you?"
Erak was silent for a moment. "The Lord of All is on our side. He doesn't look the other way but he demands that we're worthy of him. And we weren't."
Gabriella shook her head. "Somehow I don't think the Eminences will agree, nor will the Anointed Lord."
Hasso, formerly of the Red Daggers, wasn't stupid. Goran Kell was a warrior, unlike Scarra, and wouldn't think twice about killing him. Again, Hasso was confident of his own fighting ability, but he knew that he would be outnumbered if he tried to take on Kell's bodyguards. He didn't particularly believe that Kell had ran off with half the money, and knew he would only get himself into a fight against impossible odds if he went after Kell.
No, Scarra was the one who had cheated them all, and Scarra was the one who needed punishing for it. With that in mind, Hasso had turned away from Kell's trail as soon as he was out of sight of Scarra and the others. He knew that they'd expect Kell to kill him, or perhaps they thought he'd join Kell's half of the company. Either way they wouldn't feel threatened.
If they knew he had gone off on his own, however, they might see a threat. They might worry about who he'd run into, or what he'd say. As he camped overnight in a tumbledown cottage, he thought about that. More accurately, he tried to think about that, but kept becoming sidetracked by the thought of how to punish Scarra and make up the shortfall in his fee.
By morning, he realized that he hadn't been as sidetracked as he had at first thought. He realized that the two things were actually the same. By the time he had fed his horse and rolled up his bedding, he knew just where to go, and what to do.
One of the Duke's troops came to fetch Gabriella and Erak as they finished breaking their fast in the castle's refectory.
"Enlightened Brother, Sister, the guards have brought in a man who's been causing a stir in the marketplace this morning."
"Stealing?" Erak asked. Neither of them were interested; that was the town guards' business, not theirs.
The guard shook his head. "Asking awkward questions and demanding to talk to either an Enlightened One or a member of the Swords." The guard shrugged. "You're here, and all the others are busy, so…"
"Define an awkward question," Gabriella suggested.
"He's been asking about the shooting of Eminence Rhodon. Asking if there's a reward for information." Gabriella and Erak exchanged rueful looks. This would be the fifth such inquiry she had heard this morning and the Lord alone knew how many more the other Swords or the Duke's guards might have handled. "Funny thing, though," the guard mused, "the man claims he only got into Kalten this morning."
That did interest Gabriella. It wasn't unusual for the people of a town to seek to profit from some event that had just occurred, but how would an outsider even know to ask yet? Gabriella decided that that would be the first question she asked him.
"I didn't," the man who called himself Hasso had said, answering Gabriella's question. She, Erak and Hasso were strolling within the courtyard of Castle Kalten, as the cells were already full, and Gabriella wanted to both keep an eye on the man, and make him think he was being dealt with as a contact rather than as a prisoner.
Hasso was eyeing his surroundings warily; he seemed wisely cautious, but not intimidated. Gabriella took him for a soldier at once and his mismatched equipment suggested a mercenary. She doubted that this was his first time dealing with the Order, or the Faith as a whole.
"I came to find the Preceptory to ask if there was a reward for information on the whereabouts of a Brotherhood man," he went on, "but when I got into Kalten I found the whole place still in this uproar. I asked a few people, and they said that an Eminence had been shot."
"And suddenly you decided to ask if there was a reward about that?" Erak asked dubiously. "Or did you just assume that mentioning it would get you an interested ear?"
Hasso narrowed his eyes and Gabriella was glad that the guards had disarmed him. He seemed a very angry man, for some reason.
"Let's just say I have good reason to think that the man I originally came in to talk about might have had something to do with it."
"Because he's Brotherhood?"
"Because he and another fella had a meeting a couple of leagues out of town, and they seemed pretty excited about something that had happened here. Being civic-minded I thought it might be of interest to you."
Gabriella kept her eyes on his. If she was any judge, he was being fairly truthful, though probably not about his motives in coming.
"All right, who was it you were going to talk about to start with?"
"Do you know a man called Scarra?" Gabriella and Erak looked blankly at each other. "He's a fat slimeball. Lives down in Pontaine, though he's Empire-born." That was unusual, but not unheard of. Gabriella herself had been born in the Pontaine city of Andon. "He has various holdings northwest of Andon. The one you'll want is a vineyard."
"And why will we want that one?"
"Because that's where he's heading now."
"And why are you telling us this? And please, no crap about civic-mindedness."
Hasso shrugged. "Scarra crossed me. He wanted to hire me and my mates in the Red Daggers as bodyguards, but stiffed us on the payment. Some of them went with him, I didn't."
Gabriella understood perfectly. "And a reward would make up the shortfall? Of course, you realise serving under someone you knew was Brotherhood is a sin."
Hasso nodded again. "But I'm not serving him. I'm here, turning him in."
"The other man he met; do you know his name?"
"Goran Kell."
"What do you know of their plans?"
"Sod all."
"You expect us to believe that?"
"Not really, but it's true anyway. I'm just a sword-hand escorting people through bandit-country. Scarra didn't tell me anything."
"But you may have overheard something?"
Hasso shook his head. "Scarra and Kell walked out together, away from us, for their chat. They wanted to keep it quiet. But when a Brotherhood organiser looks to hire a mercenary company, you have to think he's got a good reason. And when I got here and heard about the Eminence, that sounded like a good reason to me." He finished and looked at the two Knights. "Are you interested?"
Erak led Gabriella a few steps to one side. They didn't worry about Hasso as they knew that other guards around the courtyard would be watching, with bows at the ready. "What do you think?"
"I think he's telling the truth about this meeting between two Brotherhood types called Scarra and Kell. Probably also that he doesn't know what they were up to. They'd be idiots to take the hired muscle into their confidence."
"Let's see what Preceptor DeBarres thinks."
DeBarres and Kesar were in conference with Freihurr in his office in the central keep. It was Kesar's voice which called out "enter" when Gabriella knocked. When she briefly described Hasso's story, all three were immediately on alert.
"These two names this man mentioned?" Kesar said with a frown.
"Scarra and Kell," Gabriella said with a nod. "Both Brotherhood men."
"Karel Scarra and Goran Kell." Kesar echoed. "Ah, I think I understand."
Freihurr turned to a guard and snapped his fingers. "Fetch a scribe to copy a proclamation. The men named Karel Scarra and Goran Kell are hereby declared outlaws. Double the usual reward, if they're taken alive."
"Indeed," Kesar agreed.
"You know these two men?" Freihurr asked.
"The names Scarra and Kell are not particularly rare in themselves," Kesar said, "but those two men who've been named are known to the Final Faith." He turned to DeBarres. "Your two Knights have done some excellent work today, but it's only the beginning. This assassin can't have been working alone in Kalten, not counting the fact that we have these two names as potential paymasters."
"There were men running interference for him during his flight," Gabriella said.
"And they won't escape the city." Freihurr promised.
"I shall remain in Kalten for two or three more days before returning to Scholten," Kesar said. "It would be nice to take further good news with me when I next have an audience with the Anointed Lord. Preceptor, I think this duty takes precedence for you." He gave a short bow and Gabriella knew that the Knights of the Swords were dismissed. DeBarres accompanied she and Erak out.
"Preceptor," Gabriella said as they left the office. "I was wondering who Goran Kell actually is?"
"How'd you mean?"
"This mercenary has told us who Scarra is, but Eminence Kesar and yourself seemed to recognise the other name also, Kell."
"It's no secret," DeBarres said. "In fact I apologise for not having made sure everyone out here was kept up to date on the Brotherhood's faces."
"Kell also belongs to the Brotherhood of the Divine Path?" That made sense to Gabriella.
DeBarres nodded. "Goran Kell is what the Brotherhood call a Bishop — the equivalent of our Archimandrites — responsible for spreading their heresy in Fayence. Scarra probably joined with them to spite the Makennon family. If your mercenary isn't on the level, then he's remarkably lucky to pick such a name. Let's find Confessor Kamil and see what she makes of him."
Confessor Kamil had been up all night hearing the confessions of the many people who had been brought in since yesterday's attack. Most of them were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or a little drunk, and had been given penance and thrown out of the castle. A few, in Kamil's opinion, bore closer scrutiny to determine whether they had been involved in interfering with the pursuit. They had been kept in separate cells overnight, so they wouldn't conspire over their stories, and Kamil could get back to them later.
One of the men Gabriella had fought had survived and Kamil was with him when the knights came to find her. He was lying, heavily bandaged, in a filthy cot in one corner of the dungeon. His eyes widened as soon as Gabriella came into view.
"Ah you recognise her?" Kamil asked him. "What about you, Sister DeZantez? Do you recognise this man?"
"He tried to stop me on a staircase." She had been too focussed on catching the running man to stop and see whether this one or his friend had survived. "Why did you do that?" she asked.
"Paid," he mumbled dreamily. From his pallor it was obvious he was in pain from his injuries.
"Who paid you, and why?" she asked the man.
"Dunno. A fat man gave us ten silver each to make sure that anybody chasing a man in grey on that street was stopped."
"Why?"
"He didn't say and we didn't ask. Didn't expect to see a chase. Took the money and laughed about it."
"But you did what you were asked."
"Took the money, didn't we?"
"Yes," Kamil commented, "Sadly for you, you did." She leaned in closer to Gabriella, Erak and DeBarres. "It'll be the gibbet, of course."
They all nodded; it was only natural that he should end that way.
"This fat man," Gabriella said to him, "What was his name?"
"Scar, or something."
"Scarra," she whispered thoughtfully. So Hasso's story had a bit of corroboration now.
"Do you know something?" Kamil asked, puzzled.
"Not necessarily, but maybe." She quickly told Kamil about Hasso's quest for a reward. "The mercenary says this fat man called Scarra is a member of the Brotherhood. Eminence Kesar knows the name too, from Faith records."
"So do I," DeBarres put in. "His grandfather was an Eminence, as was his mother before him. They're from Nurn, same as Erak here. There's been two generations' worth of gossip about how come our Anointed Lord's father became Anointed Lord instead of Scarra's dad. Scarra's father defected because of it. He left the service of the church and became a merchant in Pontaine."
The Confessor nodded slowly. "Suddenly we have a motive."
"Family feud," Erak agreed. "If that's true, it won't stop with one attempt."
Gabriella shook her head. "It'll stop. Whether they want to or not. Confessor, will you hear Hasso's confession? Everything he knows about the Scarra, we need to know." Kamil nodded and Gabriella suddenly remembered there was one other source of information. "The assassin that Erak killed… Do we know anything about him?"
"No-one recognizes the face, so he isn't local. The body had a Brotherhood tattoo on its collarbone."
"Necromancers?"
Kamil grimaced. "Not with the head severed. They always go mad when they're that way." Gabriella glared at Erak, who responded with a hangdog look.
"All right," DeBarres said decisively. "I'll have this Hasso come down to you. Find out everything he knows about Scarra and Kell, and any other Brotherhood connections he might have witnessed or been involved in." He smiled thinly. "Also find out whether he deserves that reward, or to have to atone for his sins."
Later that day, Gabriella was summoned to the lushly-appointed room in which Rodrigo Kesar sat on a chair that wasn't far off being a regal throne. Gabriella sat on a simple stool before him. Two silent servants stood in the corners, awaiting their master's commands.
"Sister DeZantez," he began. "I gather you've been throwing yourself into the work of getting to the bottom of this vile attack on Eminence Rhodon."
"Yes, Eminence. As a matter of fact I'd like — " Gabriella hesitated, suddenly feeling that she had overstepped her mark. Then it occurred to her that if she had done so already, it was too late to back down. "I'd like to be a part of the hunt for Kell and Scarra."
"Would you, indeed?" Kesar's smile was faintly mocking.
"Yes." She met his gaze as evenly as she could. "We know from his defecting mercenary that Karel Scarra is making for a vineyard near Andon. We know he is a ranking member of the Brotherhood and we know the bowman who made the shot was a member of the Brotherhood. We also know that Scarra met a Brotherhood Bishop named Kell not far from here, at around the time of the attack."
To her surprise, his smile warmed somewhat, becoming more genuine. "And will you define 'a part of' for me?"
She flushed. "I know I haven't the rank to lead the hunt," she said at last, "but I'd like to do whatever I can to help."
"Of course." Kesar paused. "You acknowledge that you are not ranked to lead this hunt, and yet you bring the concept into our conversation."
"Eminence?" She inwardly cursed, for making herself look a fool.
"The question of leadership needed no mention here, least of all by someone who acknowledges that she is not the one to lead. So why mention it all, other than to put the word 'lead' into connection with yourself?" Gabriella could feel her face growing ever redder. "Don't worry, Sister DeZantez; the ambition to do one's best in the name of the Lord Of All is not a sin. And nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about." He sniffed. "Very few people ever became leaders, who did not first seek to put themselves in that position."
"Eminence, if I were to ask to lead the hunt… Forget it, it would never happen."
"Perhaps not. I'm sure Preceptor DeBarres has many eminently qualified and suitable Knights who he can assign to the task. Then again, perhaps you are one of that number. I wouldn't know."
"Thank you, Eminence." She wasn't sure whether she had done herself any good or not, but the discussion itself had been more than she expected. He extended a hand so that she could kiss his signet ring once more before leaving.
When she had gone, Kesar gestured to one of the servants. "Have Preceptor DeBarres sent to me without delay."
A rap at the Eminence's door a few minutes later proved to herald the arrival of Preceptor DeBarres. He had shed his armour and now wore robes and the tabard of the Order.
"I'm ready to present my report," DeBarres said without preamble. He gave Kesar a scroll.
"I'm sure it makes interesting reading." Kesar laid the scroll on the table. "I didn't invite you here just to read a report, Raul."
"Raul?" DeBarres echoed. "Is this an off-the-record meeting, then?" Kesar nodded. "Then I'll take a seat."
"What think you of Sister DeZantez?" Kesar asked.
DeBarres raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"
"As a soldier."
"She's a fine soldier," DeBarres said proudly. "Strong, well-skilled, can take hits that would floor me. She has a good grasp of tactics and works well both on her own initiative and in any team arrangement."
"As an Enlightened One?"
DeBarres smiled, still proud. "She's devout, well-read… There's a touch of Heaven in all of us, but she has more than most."
"And as a person?"
DeBarres thought for a moment. "It would be a cliche to say 'the daughter I wish I had,' but I'm damned if I can think of a better answer to your question, Rodrigo."
"Raul, what would you say if I told you she wants to hunt for Scarra and Kell."
DeBarres grinned. "I'd say she wouldn't be the Knight of the Swords I think she is if she didn't want that."
"Would you let her?"
DeBarres closed his eyes for a moment and a shadow seemed to pass across his pockmarked features. "As the Preceptor of a Knight of the Swords, yes. As a man with a near-daughter… I don't know." He chuckled. "If I said that in front of her, she wouldn't be very happy."
"At being protected?"
"Exactly." DeBarres let out a long breath. "I'd regret it — not in the sense of fearing she'd fail, but in the sense of feeling guilty at sending her into danger, but yes, I'd let her go after Scarra and Kell. It'd be a damned harder thing to stop her from going."
"Of course there will be a hunt, that's not in question. But who do you have in mind to lead such a hunt?"
"That depends on what sort of hunt it is. If it were a full scale military operation with mounted patrols, then Brother Markus would be ideal."
Kesar shook his head. "Scarra and Kell aren't stupid and they have a lead on us. This won't be a chase across fields for a fleeing man, or a sweep through a city. The search will have to be more subtle."
"A select few Knights as muster-captains, working with observers and agents?"
"Exactly."
"Then there are several options, depending on how much ground needs to be covered. This close to the Anclas… They could even have gone across to Pontaine, either together, or they could split up. Andon isn't that far for some travellers with good horses." DeBarres thought for a moment. "Tomas Marek is Archimandrite of Andon; he's a former Preceptor of the Swords. I'll send a message to him, and see if he can assign some of his Knights to keep a watch out in Andon and the nearby border.
"I will make sure every Enlightened One and Walker in the Anclas knows who they're looking for."
"I'll pay a visit to Turnitia soon. The Brotherhood may have moved most of their centres to Freiport, but Turnitia's an old home to them. It wouldn't surprise me if either of them headed there to try to catch a ship somewhere."
"They'd be mad to try, given how tightly we now control that city, but then again they were mad to attempt this assassination." Kesar shrugged. "Very well, Raul, let us see how the Lord favours us, and begin the hunt in earnest."
"Who first?" Gabriella asked. She and Erak leaned against the battlements of Castle Kalten. The snow had melted, but fog had brought a damp chill to the town. They watched the grooms brushing down the horses they would soon use. "If we're permitted to take part?"
"Karel Scarra and permission is granted." It was DeBarres, poker-faced, but with a lightness in his eyes. "Every member of the Order will have their part to play in this manhunt. The Eminences and I think teams of Knights, soldiers and agents making quick and discreet visits will be best. I've decided that you two should lead one team of hunters. I'm assigning you four Knights and their men-at-arms." He thought for a moment. "Take Tanner, Karlsen, Oaks and Komo with you."
"What about the mercenary, Hasso? If he's accompanied Scarra on his travels, he might be able to guide us."
"He might also be a liar or a distraction, for all we know. Or willing to switch sides again for a larger purse. A one-off reward for information is one thing, but I don't trust him enough to hire him."
Gabriella nodded. "I'm thinking it would be useful if Scarra was taken alive? He must know a lot of names and faces."
"That would be my suggestion," DeBarres conceded, "The same goes for Kell, if you come across him in your hunt for Scarra. But I don't want anybody risking letting either of them escape for the sake of wanting him able to talk. Alive would be a bonus, but if it comes to a choice between a dead man telling us no tales and a living man getting away and prolonging the chase, you put him down, hard." He leaned against the wall between them. "I'll be taking a trip to show some force in Turnitia, and I'll have Markus on the coast and the Anclas, just in case we can catch him making his run for home. I want you two to go into Pontaine and check through the satellite towns around Andon, to find that vineyard that Hasso has told us about."
"And the Pontaine military?" Erak asked. "They haven't been very welcoming since the war."
"Be civil, but don't hold your breath waiting for assistance. But it may be that Hasso is fooling us all, and the real fugitives are in Freiport or somewhere already and you won't see either, but good luck anyway. And good hunting."