Vredech was so preoccupied with his concerns about Cassraw that he barely noticed the agitation that was pervading the Witness House when he reached it. The groom who took his horse muttered something rhetorical about, ‘where was he supposed to put this one?’ but Vredech had reached the top of the steps before he registered the complaint and was in no mood to take the man to task.
As he closed the main door behind him, he paused at the sight of twenty or thirty novices of various degrees milling about the high-domed entrance hall, all talking agitatedly. Years of stern hierarchical habit overrode his immediate concerns.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ he shouted over the noise. ‘This is the Witness House of the Church of Ishrythan, not a market-place. Get to your quarters. Turn the energy of this unseemly display to your studies.’
The clamour fell immediately but the agitation remained.
‘But Brother Vredech, what’s going to happen?’ someone asked. ‘Half the Chapter’s here and there’s uproar in the Debating Hall.’
‘What’s going to happen is what’s going to happen,’ Vredech announced, unrelenting. ‘And all of you here are a considerable way from needing to worry about what the Chapter is debating or in what manner. Nor are you likely to come any nearer, frittering your time away here.’
He concluded with a massive gesture of dismissal that scattered the gathering like a wind scattering autumn leaves. The unrest remained, however, though now it was his, for voices still echoed around the entrance hall. Voices which must presumably be coming from the Debating Hall, judging by their direction. Ignoring any attempt at seemliness himself, Vredech took the stairs two and three steps at a time and then ran along the passageway towards the source.
As he drew nearer, the anger which had been kindled by the sight of the novices filling the entrance hall flared up, for the door of the Debating Hall was half-open, and the din escaping through it put their noise to shame.
Grim-faced, Vredech entered silently and watched what was happening for a few moments. As the novice had told him, almost half the Chapter was assembled, but disorder appeared to be reigning. Mueran was seated at the head of the table and periodically slapped it, trying to be heard. He did not look well. On one side of him sat Horld, his face clouded and ominous, and on the other sat Morem, patently distressed. Of the others, nearly all seemed to be talking at the same time, some to each other, some to everyone else. Four of them were standing and gesticulating towards Mueran, whose table-slapping was having no effect whatsoever.
Vredech’s anger tilted momentarily toward despair as he saw the leaders of his church in such disarray. Like any group of people who shared responsibility for the running of an institution, they suffered from internecine quarrels from time to time, sometimes difficult and unpleasant, but this…
His anger returned, redoubled.
Opening the door wide, he slammed it violently. The sound filled the room and brought all eyes round to him. He strode forward. ‘In the name of mercy,’ he said furiously, ‘the sound of your squabbling is filling the entire building. I’ve just rebuked half our novices for making a tenth the clamour that’s being raised here.’
Before anyone could reply, he turned to Mueran.
‘My apologies, Brother Mueran,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken thus, but…’ He gave a despairing shrug.
Mueran nodded and motioned him to his chair, untypically allowing his gratitude to show in his expression. Vredech’s intervention had given him the respite he needed to restore his authority. ‘We’ve all been badly shaken by what’s happened, Brother,’ he said, raising a hand to silence two would-be speakers and firmly indicating that those who were standing should sit. He turned his remarks towards the gathering in general. ‘A little confusion in our proceedings is perhaps inevitable. However,’ he was completely in control again now, ‘Brother Vredech’s reproach was both timely and correct. Nothing is to be served by our bellowing at one another.’
A figure at the far end of the table jumped to its feet. ‘But Brother Mueran, I insist…’
‘SIT DOWN AND BE SILENT!’ Mueran’s voice made even Vredech start, reminding him that this vacillating and hypocritical man had reputedly once been quite ruthless in his ambition, a much-feared figure within the Church. ‘This meeting may have been called in unusual circumstances, but it will be conducted correctly.’ He turned over some papers in front of him though Vredech noticed that his eyes were not looking at them. ‘Two days ago…’
Briefly the true man broke through. ‘Was it only two days?’ he said softly, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he was the Covenant Member again. ‘Two days ago it was put to me that a Chapter Meeting be called to examine the deplorable conduct of Brother Cassraw.’
‘No!’ several voices cried out.
‘Be silent!’ Mueran shouted. ‘Or this meeting will turn its attention to your own disruptive behaviour. This is not a debate!’ His authority held, but only just. ‘It needs no great study of our church canons to know that Brother Cassraw has preached two outrageous and quite unacceptable sermons of late. He has wilfully strayed into secular areas that…’
The opposition broke out again, several voices speaking at once.
‘No! Secular and spiritual are one. To speak otherwise is heresy.’
‘Brother Cassraw has been chosen to renew the church, to root out hypocrites and hair-splitting theologians who seek only after their own aggrandizement.’
‘He has been shown the truths in the Santyth!’
‘He has been given powers.’
‘He and his Knights have already saved the country!’
Mueran’s hand was dithering over the table, this time not even having the decisiveness to slap it. He looked utterly lost. The brief resurgence of the younger, stronger man was gone. Unexpectedly, Vredech felt a wave of compassion for Mueran, watching his life’s ambitions and struggles turning to dross before him. He felt torn. He could intervene as he had before and take control of the meeting. Horld and Morem would support him, he was sure – Horld himself, he could see, was on the verge of doing something anyway. But that would effectively destroy Mueran’s position, and what would be the consequences of that?
Yet to allow this riot to continue would be worse. Looking at the clamouring faces he saw what had happened. Mueran had been able to call only those Brothers with parishes in and around Troidmallos – the very ones that Cassraw must have been most assiduously working on.
He was preparing himself to bellow through the turmoil, when he noticed the door opening. A head emerged round it sheepishly. It caught Vredech’s eye.
He released his bellow. ‘Yes, what is it?’
As before, his voice silenced the gathering and drew all eyes first to him, and then to the novice who was hovering at the door.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Brothers,’ quavered the novice, ‘but I think you should see what’s happening outside.’
Both Vredech and Horld stood up immediately, Vredech mouthing to Mueran that he should suspend the meeting and motioning him to follow them. As the Chapter moved through the building following their unexpected guide, it collected most of the novices that Vredech had dismissed earlier. Some of these were in a state of high excitement. Vredech glanced at Mueran in the hope that he might enforce his own earlier command, but it needed no great skill in the reading of character to see that Mueran was capable only of following events now.
At the gate of the Witness House grounds the assembled Brothers found themselves witness to a ragged procession of people trailing up the mountain. For a moment they stood and gaped in silence, then Vredech stepped forward.
‘Where are you going?’ he demanded loudly.
One of the passers-by turned and smiled at him, but his eyes were distant. ‘To the summit, Brother. To Brother Cassraw’s service of thanksgiving for the saving of our land from the Great Evil.’
‘And to worship at the place where Ishryth appeared to Brother Cassraw and chose him as His voice in this world,’ said another.
‘Thus let it be.’ The voice came from behind Vredech. As he turned, one of the Chapter Brothers pushed past him. ‘Praise be,’ he said. ‘I shall walk with you, my children. To the One True Light.’
Two others joined him. Cries of ‘Praise be, praise be,’ rang out from the passing crowd. Then something seized Vredech’s arm. He was so angry and fearful at what he was watching, that his clenched fist was raised as he whirled round to see what it was. He found himself staring into Mueran’s gasping face, then he was supporting him as he collapsed.
‘Stand back, stand back. Lay him down gently.’
Morem had moved quickly to Vredech’s side and was helping to lower the sagging frame of the Covenant Brother on to the stone pathway. His face was concerned as he began loosening the garments about Mueran’s neck.
‘What’s the matter?’ Vredech asked anxiously.
Morem, his head bent against Mueran’s chest, beckoned for silence. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It might be his heart, or perhaps blood to the head, I can’t tell.’
‘It’s the will of Ishryth,’ said one of the Brothers, his eyes wide and fearful. ‘He has been struck down because of his denial of the truth of Brother Cassraw’s revelation.’ He made to push by the group around Mueran’s prostrate form with a view to joining the crowd. As he did so, Vredech seized hold of the front of his cassock, swung him round and struck him a powerful blow on the chin. The man went sprawling out of the gate and into the crowd, knocking two people over and scattering several others. He was quickly hoisted to his feet, but was staggering badly as the crowd carried him along.
Vredech looked down at his hand, his face alight with bewilderment and horror. ‘What have I done?’ he stammered, gripping his bruised fist and raising it to his mouth in dismay.
An arm closed gently about his shoulder. It was Horld. ‘We must tend to Mueran,’ he urged, but Vredech was too shocked to respond. He shook himself free and gazed around – at the passing crowd, at the Witness House, at the fallen form of Mueran with Morem bent over him. Only one thought occupied his mind however. What had possessed him to strike his fellow Chapter Brother, he who had never struck anyone in his entire life, and who himself had rarely been struck, even as a child? The horror and shame of it rang about his head like the tolling of a great bell. It seemed to him that the crowd was emerging from and disappearing into a long echoing tunnel, and that Mueran and Horld and the others, too, were far, far away.
‘More a warrior than a preacher.’
Denial rose within him as the Whistler’s words echoed through his mind. But other things the Whistler had said came, too, and the memory of the sacked city and its massacred inhabitants. ‘Such a fate is always waiting for those who forget the darkness in their nature. Learn it now or you’ll be taught it again.’
The darkness in their nature?
The darkness inmy nature, he thought.
No!
‘Learn it or you’ll be taught it again.’
‘Allyn, snap out of it, we must tend to Mueran.’ Horld’s voice broke through his turmoil, jerking him back giddyingly to the gates of the Witness House. A residual flurry of regret and apology washed at the edges of his mind for the violence he had committed, but he ignored them. Somewhere their importance had been diminished.
‘What can we do, Morem?’ he asked unsteadily, looking down at Mueran’s livid face. ‘Shouldn’t we take him inside?’
Morem shook his head. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said unhappily. ‘It’s something serious, and I don’t think we should risk moving him. We need a proper physician – someone will have to go down and fetch one quickly. All we can do here is get blankets to cover him with, keep him warm.’
‘Let me through!’
Purposeful hands pushed an opening in the gathering around Mueran. They belonged to Nertha. Vredech was at once relieved, surprised and ashamed to see her, but she knelt down by Mueran’s side without even acknowledging him. Her initial examination was swift and expert, but Vredech read her conclusion from her posture even before she finally stood up.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid he’s dead.’
There were gasps of dismay and disbelief and several of the Brothers, Horld included, circled their hands about their hearts. Morem’s hands went to his mouth in a curiously feminine gesture. ‘There was nothing you could have done,’ Nertha said to him, laying a hand on his arm.
‘Why?’ someone asked rhetorically. ‘Why now? Why here?’
For an instant, Vredech half-expected some caustic comment from Nertha about the questioner being better placed to answer that than she was, but she merely shook her head, causing Vredech more self-reproach. It whirled round him jagged with guilt and anger and helplessness.
‘We must take him inside,’ he heard Horld saying, his voice strained. ‘Away from this… this…’ He gave up. ‘Cover his face. Lift him gently.’
Vredech turned towards the passing crowd. They were paying no heed to what had just happened. He wanted to shout and scream at them, curse them for their blasphemous folly in what they were doing, for their callous passing by, but he merely gaped.
Then Nertha was in front of him, staring at him intently. ‘Allyn, look at me. Look at me!’ She took hold of his chin and turned his head until his eyes met hers. They were shining with half-formed tears, but her voice was steady. ‘I’m truly sorry about Mueran. There was nothing anyone could have done.’ Her look became almost imploring. ‘But what’s happening here? Why did you hit that man?’
Vredech barely took in her words. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘House told me about the crowds coming here,’ she replied impatiently. ‘I had a bad feeling.’ She gave a self-conscious shrug and turned away from him. ‘I thought I should be with you. I was afraid.’
‘Afraid of what?’ he asked.
‘All of a sudden, of everything.’ She was almost shouting. ‘So many awful things happening so quickly. I can’t really believe it.’ She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd still trudging relentlessly by.
‘Disbelief and astonishment are luxuries we haven’t the time to afford,’ Vredech said, speaking the Whistler’s words as they also returned to him. Resolve was forming in him in the wake of his violent outburst and the shock of Mueran’s death. ‘We must accept reality as we find it, however unbelievable, however unpleasant.’ He took her arm and began moving after the impromptu cortege bearing away Mueran’s body. As he reached it he took hold of Horld with his other hand.
‘We must try to stop Cassraw holding this service,’ he said urgently.
Horld made no effort to conceal his anger. ‘I think we’ve more important things than Cassraw’s foolishness to deal with at the moment, don’t you?’
Horld’s anger stirred Vredech’s own. ‘No, I don’t,’ he replied bluntly. ‘Mueran’s gone, Ishryth speed him, but Cassraw right now is leading hundreds of people to the very place where he encountered whatever it is that’s possessed him. He’s also done something that could start a war with Tirfelden, and, for what it’s worth against those two items, he’s the Haven Parish incumbent and by tradition, the new Covenant Member until elections are held!’
Horld faltered under the impact of this brief but portentous list. The others continued into the Witness House. His face became stern and unreadable and after a long pause he murmured, ‘Better me as Covenant Member than Cassraw.’
They paused only to allow Horld to announce their intention to Morem and the others then the three of them set off to join the crowds heading towards the summit. As they were passing through the gate to the Witness House, they were joined by Skynner, brought here by a mixture of curiosity and deep concern about what was happening. Instinctively uneasy about Cassraw’s intention of holding a service on the summit of the Ervrin Mallos he had set off in the hope that someone at the Witness House would be able to tell him whether it was legal or not. As he had made his way through the crowd he had largely abandoned any idea of attempting to stop it on the grounds of simple practicality, but on hearing of Mueran’s death he renewed his intention.
The mood of the crowd was strange. For the most part it was good-natured, but for every face that was smiling or excited, Vredech saw two that were darkened by a grim earnestness, or lit by an unreasoning zeal.
‘Not in Canol Madreth,’ he had said to the Whistler after his vision of the devastated city.
‘Anywhere. Everywhere,’ had been the reply.
He began to feel afraid. He found himself softly whistling the Whistler’s three notes in elaborate cross-rhythms to that of his plodding footsteps. The way was steep and all four were too preoccupied with their own thoughts for conversation, but Vredech was relieved to have them by him.
When they reached the gulley that led up to Ishryth’s lawn, Skynner used the authority of his uniform to push a way through to the front of the crowd that had accumulated there. He used it again to lead his party through the people lingering on the lawn’s grassy turf prior to beginning the final ascent.
Before they began this last part of the climb, Skynner looked at the sky. Clouds were gathering – not the black ominous ones that had marked the fateful day of Cassraw’s transformation – but dark and ominous enough to say that they carried a good deal of water and that the growing crowd could look forward to a wetting and a premature evening.
‘This is going to turn into a nightmare,’ Skynner muttered. ‘Saving your cloth, Brothers, but I’m beginning to think that Brother Cassraw has gone raving mad. If we don’t get two score injuries out of this lot on the way down in the dark and the pouring rain, I’ll eat my baton.’
Vredech and Horld exchanged glances. ‘We’ll try to talk him out of it before it gets too dark,’ Vredech said half-heartedly.
Horld however was uncompromising. He used Vredech’s own reference. ‘A man who’s reputedly set about starting a war with our nearest neighbour is unlikely to be concerned about a few cracked heads and sprained ankles.’
Vredech let the matter lie and concentrated on where he was putting his feet. Nertha remained silent throughout, her long legs keeping her a little way ahead of the group, seemingly effortlessly.
Then they were at the summit. There was already a large crowd there but it parted to let them through. ‘More your uniform than mine this time, I think,’ Skynner said quietly to Vredech and Horld as they walked along the aisle that had been formed.
Nertha whispered to Vredech. ‘It’s much worse than it was the other day. Something’s happened up here since then.’
Vredech nodded. The presence that he had sensed and ultimately opposed a few days earlier was all around him again, but many times stronger. He glanced at Nertha. She was pale and her face was tense. ‘We must be very careful,’ he said. She did not seem to be listening. He shook her arm, making her start. ‘Now you know, He can’t take possession of you again.’ He shook her once more. ‘Do you understand?’ he hissed.
Nertha nodded agitatedly. ‘Yes, yes.’
‘Well, cling to it,’ Vredech said urgently. ‘Cling to it above all else. We stood against Him once almost by accident. The two of us prepared can do it again if need arises.’
‘I don’t know how,’ she stammered.
‘Just remember who you are, who we both are.’
‘It’s much stronger.’
‘So are we.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Skynner’s commanding tone ended the whispered exchange. He was addressing a group of Cassraw’s Knights who were apparently guarding the cluster of rocks that marked the summit. They were masked.
‘Brother Cassraw told us…’
‘Take that thing off your face when you talk to me, lad,’ Skynner said impatiently.
The Knight waxed indignant. ‘These are the masks we wore at the Battle of Bredill. They are badges of honour. They…’
‘No honourable man hides his face before the law,’ Skynner said, real anger seeping into his tone. ‘Take them off, all of you. As for what you did at Bredill, that’ll doubtless be a matter for an Assize in due course. Now do as you’re told, or do I have to do it for you?’
There was a moment of hesitation in which the Knight took in Skynner’s lowering bulk, and the hand resting on his baton, then with a markedly ill grace he pulled off his mask and motioned the others to do the same.
As the surly features of the young men emerged, Skynner nodded. ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Now I know who I’m talking to – Troidmallos’s finest, part of Yanos’s little band of heroes. I wonder if Brother Cassraw really knows who’s getting into his precious Knights?’
‘They’re all exhausted,’ Nertha whispered to Vredech as she took in their sunken eyes and drawn features.
‘They’re all leaving,’ Skynner said, catching part of Nertha’s remark. ‘Go on, clear off. Get back to your homes and present yourselves at the Keeperage first thing tomorrow morning. There’s a deal of questions to be asked of you and your friends.’
Without waiting to see if his command was being obeyed, he clambered on to the stained rock. It began to rain as he addressed the growing crowd. ‘Listen to me, all of you,’ he shouted. ‘Go back to your homes right away. It’s too dangerous to have so many of you up here. The light’s failing, the weather turning, and many of you could be hurt descending. Go now while you can, and go carefully.’
Voices were raised in argument.
‘The Chosen One is coming.’
‘We’ve come to see where He revealed Himself to the Chosen One.’
‘We’ve come to give thanks for the saving of our land from the Felden devils.’
‘Go home!’ Skynner thundered through the mounting din. ‘Go home now.’ He took a chance. ‘No service can be held here. This place has not been proven by the church.’
‘This place needs no proving by the hand of man, Serjeant.’
The voice over-topped Skynner’s. It was Cassraw.
All eyes turned towards him. ‘This is His most holy place,’ he went on, stepping forward. ‘To here He will return and from here will His renewal of the world begin.’ Cries of ‘Thus let it be’ and ‘Praise Him’ rose from the crowd.
Vredech and Horld looked at Cassraw aghast. He was dressed in the formal black cassock of the church, but across it ran the red sash of his Knights of Ishryth, and draped over one arm was one of the faceless masks that the Knights had worn at Bredill. Around his head he wore what appeared to be a silver circlet; it rose to a point at the front and culminated in a single star-shaped jewel. Behind him stood Dowinne, dressed in a long undecorated black robe. On either side of him stood a rank of his Knights, and behind Dowinne another group of Knights were bearing a stretcher over which was draped the Madren flag.
‘This is a mockery,’ Horld burst out. ‘Your words and your appearance are sacrilegious.’
‘I forgive you your intemperance, Brother Horld,’ Cassraw said, though his eyes were far from forgiving. ‘I have just heard of the sudden and tragic death of our beloved Covenant Brother, Mueran, and your distress is understandable. But while my heart grieves for the loss of a dear friend and counsellor, his sceptre falls to me by tradition and, with all humility, I will take it and carry it forward as he would have wished, striving ever for the good of our church. Mysterious are His ways, and not for us to question.’
Horld stepped forward, eyes blazing, but Vredech caught hold of him. At the same time, the Knights flanking Cassraw moved close about him.
‘There’s nothing we can do,’ Vredech whispered to Horld, desperately fearful that the once blacksmith was about to resort to violence. And indeed, he felt the man’s considerable strength trembling against his grip before it finally relaxed. ‘He’s right. He does have tradition on his side at the moment, not to mention those thugs and this crowd. But we have time and the lay authority, and tradition, too, which demands a proper election of the Covenant Member within fifteen days.’
Cassraw and his entourage advanced towards the rocks and Horld and the others stood aside. As Cassraw passed, Vredech caught his gaze. ‘Turn away from this path, Enryc, I beg you,’ he said, very quietly. ‘Whatever touched you that dark day, it was not Ishryth, it was some ancient evil. Only horror lies before you. Some part of you must know that. Look deep into yourself and find again your true nature before you destroy both yourself and countless others.’
Cassraw stopped and doubt flickered briefly in his eyes. But it was like the flare of a candle caught in the howl of a gale, and was gone before it could illuminate anything.
‘Follow me or…’ He faltered. ‘Follow me, Allyn. Follow me. There is no other way. All has been revealed to me.’
He turned away quickly and stared up at Skynner, still standing on the rock. ‘You are defiling His most holy place,’ he said, his voice menacing.
Skynner crouched down and looked at him squarely. ‘I’m standing on a rock, Brother Cassraw. I’m not going to trade theology with you, though as I recall the Santyth, when Ishryth was asked should a temple be built for him, said that all places are his temple and should be respected equally.’
Cassraw almost snarled, ‘Your interpretation of the Santyth is flawed, Keeper, as is that of many others. I shall disclose the truth of His words as they have been and as they will be revealed to me. Now remove yourself.’
Skynner ignored the strident tone of the last remark and tried appealing to reason. ‘Brother Cassraw,’ he began. ‘Look at these people, look at this weather. This is neither the time nor the place for a service. People are going to be hurt.’
‘Hurt!’ Cassraw hissed, his voice low despite its power. He turned towards the stretcher being carried by the Knights. ‘This is hurt. Young Marash here suffered the supreme hurt, perishing at the hands of the servants of evil as he defended his motherland while those who should have been doing it, squabbled like children. I will not ask you again, Serjeant; remove yourself from this sacred stone!’
Skynner bent forward and brought his face very close to Cassraw’s so that only he could hear what was being said.
‘I didn’t care for the “or else” in that last remark, Brother. Let me remind you that you are disobeying a lawfully-given order from an officer of the state, which, as you know full well, will not be countenanced by the church authority when all this, and whatever comes of it, is accounted for – which will be soon, I guarantee you.’ His voice fell even lower and, as if in spite of himself, Cassraw leaned forward to hear. ‘If perchance you’re thinking of further aggravating matters by having these louts of yours lay hands on me, not only will that, too, have to be accounted for, but you should be quite clear in your mind about whose head will be cracked open first.’
Cassraw’s entire body began to quiver perceptibly at this implacable opposition, and his face went first white, then red. Before he could speak, however, Dowinne took his arm. He turned to her sharply, and Vredech noticed her grip tightening powerfully. He caught no hint of any exchange between them other than eye contact, but Cassraw’s manner slowly softened. When he turned back to Skynner, he wore a conciliatory smile. Skynner’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
‘I’ll not debate this further with you, Serjeant,’ Cassraw said. ‘Your ignorance is excusable, this time, but it is not fitting that I, the Chosen, should allow it to distract me from my mission here. I offer you no reproach. There are many in this land who are ignorant and who await the One True Light, to bring them the truth.’ He placed his hands on the boulder. ‘See though, how He weeps at your obduracy.’ He looked pointedly at Skynner’s feet. Skynner could do no other than follow his gaze.
The rain had been falling in a fine drizzle throughout this confrontation and the rock upon which Skynner was crouching had been thoroughly wetted, a small pool forming in the dip at its centre. Suddenly the water gathered there swirled forward and splashed angrily around Skynner’s boots, tiny waves at the foot of an obdurate cliff. At the same time, a flurry of rain struck him in the face, making him raise his hand in protection. Neither event was conspicuous or violent, but the rain in Skynner’s face disturbed him, and the strange movement of the water around his feet startled him and the two together caused him to slither incongruously off the rock.
Cassraw laughed. It was an unpleasant sound, full more of triumph and malice than humour. The crowd followed his cue. Vredech stepped forward and helped Skynner to his feet. The action was virtually a reflex, however, as he had felt himself almost physically assaulted when the water on the boulder had started to move. His skin was crawling exactly as it had when Cassraw had transformed Dowinne’s simple drink into water, and Cassraw’s laughter was twisting about him like a choking noose. Again the word ‘abomination’ came to him in response to the presence he felt about him; the presence he had also felt invading Nertha and trying to possess him at this same place only three days ago. As then, he could find no response to what was happening other than rage, although the rainwater that was still splashing unnaturally about Skynner’s feet fell away suddenly as though touched by his anger.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked Skynner.
‘No, I’m not,’ Skynner replied fiercely with an oath. He made to move towards Cassraw, but this time it was Nertha’s hand that stayed him.
‘Leave it,’ she said simply. ‘Only harm will come of resisting him here. You’ve done all you can.’
Skynner looked from her to Cassraw and back again, then yielded to her will. ‘Very well,’ he conceded. ‘But as I’m here, I’ll stay, so there’s at least one accurate witness to what’s going on.’
‘There’ll be four,’ Nertha said, wiping the rain from her forehead and glancing at Vredech and Horld.
Cassraw was now on the far side of the boulder, his arms extended. Dowinne stood beside him, and the Knights bearing the body of Marash were ranked behind him.
‘His blessing be upon you,’ Cassraw intoned.
‘Thus let it be,’ the crowd chanted back as one.
‘My children.’ Cassraw’s voice was unnaturally loud. ‘I have brought you here that you might know the place where He revealed Himself to me.’ He laid his hand on the boulder. ‘Here, but months ago, as I sat alone and desolate with a fearful darkness all about me, a voice spoke to me in the midst of my prayers. His voice, my children. His voice. He told me that such wickedness was abroad that once again it was necessary for Him to venture forth into this world.’ Cassraw’s voice grew gradually louder and a pulsing, driving rhythm began to permeate his speech. ‘He harrowed my whole being, my children. Showed me such things as would chill your souls to know. But He held me firm and gave me the strength that I would need, for He told me also that I was the vessel that He had chosen to set in train the righting of this world; the undoing of the work of His enemy. And as He chose me, so I choose you, to be the flame that will rekindle the true faith in this godless land.’
Excited cries were rising from the crowd in response to Cassraw’s own mounting passion. His voice dropped suddenly and he leaned forward. The crowd fell silent immediately. ‘But great will be that task, my children, let me not deceive you. For His enemy has laboured long and silently to corrode His truth.’ He turned and laid a hand on the body of Marash.
The rain was falling more heavily now. Vredech felt his hair plastering flat over his head. He wiped his eyes as Cassraw continued.
‘The price for some may appear high – a price that your most inner thoughts whisper is too high; something that you could not do.’ His voice began to rise again. ‘But fear not, for this seeming loss is but a moment’s discomfort. For those who perish in this world in battle against His enemies will know no punishment for their sins and will be judged, not by His terrible Watchers, but by Him and Him alone, and they will be found fit to enter into Deryon. Deryon, that place beyond imagining, that place which is as this world but where all is perfection, and where there is neither labour, nor pain of any kind and where all that can be desired is to be won by the mere asking. There, even as I speak to you, the spirit of our murdered Brother Marash will be rejoicing.’
‘This is as grotesque and primitive as it is heretical,’ Horld murmured, his eyes wide with disbelief at what he was hearing. Vredech nodded but signalled silence. He could feel the rain beginning to reach through to his back, shivering cold.
Cassraw looked straight at him. ‘Many of you have heard me speak and have understood. Great is the wisdom and vision of those who are unclouded by learning. But there are others – even those who have seen His hand at work before their eyes – who doubt yet. These lost souls are more deserving of our pity than our anger, my children, so blind are they. But only thus far can their blindness be forgiven, for it is in truth a wilful pride that turns them away from the Way when it has been so plainly shown to them. How great is such a pride, my children, that tells them they can deny His truth?’ He paused significantly. ‘Well, just so great is His mercy, for He has given me the power to bring to such doubters a sign.’ The crowd was very silent. ‘Let those among you so weak in faith as to need a sign, look upon this, and question it if you dare!’
As his last words boomed out over the crowd, he stood up, threw his head back to face the falling rain, and extended his arms wide.
Vredech drew in an agonizing breath as he felt all that he had felt before in the presence of one of Cassraw’s ‘miracles’, but this time, immeasurably worse. For a moment he felt he was going to lapse into unconsciousness, and indeed, in the darkness behind his briefly closed eyes, he thought he saw the Whistler looking at him curiously, his head on one side and his flute seemingly paused on its way to his mouth. The image was gone the instant he opened his eyes, but he heard himself softly whistling the familiar three notes.
There was agitation all about him, and cries of wonder coming from the crowd. Simultaneously he heard Nertha gasp, Skynner swear, and Horld cry out. As he looked around he realized that the rain had suddenly stopped. But as he looked further, he saw that beyond the crowd in every direction it seemed to be still falling. Then he discovered what had so startled his companions. His flattened hair, his previously sodden clothes, the rocks under his feet and all about him, were completely dry.