Empire of the Saviours (Chronicles of/Cosmic Warlord 1) (20 page)

‘Poppycock and midden water! Like me, you’ve been born a bit different, that’s all. How is it your fault how you were born, eh? No, don’t contradict me! I won’t hear otherwise, Jillan. You’re just going to repeat all the bigotry and irrational fear people have spouted at you over the years. Look, worst comes to the worst, you can stay here with me. The most you’ll have to contend with is the wolf’s farts when he’s had too much hedgehog.’

Jillan shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. My parents told me to go to Saviours’ Paradise. There’s someone I need to find. If my parents are freed at all, they will also meet me there.’

Ash rubbed his chin in thought. ‘There’s a good chance the Heroes of Saviours’ Paradise have already been told to be on the lookout for you. It’s dangerous.’

Jillan shrugged. ‘I have to try.’

‘Well, there’s a market in Saviours’ Paradise two days hence. There will be quite a few people from other communities coming into town, and if I go with you you won’t stand out as much as someone trying to enter on their own. We can go, ask around for this person for a day or so and then be out of there before you attract too much attention. We can also leave word with someone to watch for your folks in the weeks ahead. That person can pass on the message that you’re at my cabin in the woods.’

Jillan thought it through and nodded.

‘You’ll need to cover up that armour of yours, though. It’s quite distinctive. What
are
all those symbols anyway? I don’t recognise them.’

Jillan shifted uncomfortably. ‘Me neither. I found it in an old barn. I don’t think it belongs to anybody, and I don’t think anyone has really seen me wearing it, but I can wear a cloak over it.’

‘And who is this person you need to meet? I might know him and be able to save us some time.’

‘Thomas Ironshoe.’

‘Thomas? Nope, I don’t know anyone by that name. Still, Saviours’ Paradise is a big place and a lot of people come and go. Anyway, that’s settled, eh, Jillan, m’lad! We are co-conspirators and adventurers! Let’s drink to that! Co-conspirators!’

‘Co-conspirators!’

The wolf began to snore.

As night was falling, Saint Azual and his men reached the inn. He was in a foul mood – not used to being in the saddle for prolonged periods and therefore really not enjoying the day’s ride through the bad weather. But it had been necessary to conserve energy.
I will make sure the boy suffers for every moment of this blasphemous humiliation!

He climbed stiffly out of his saddle and threw his reins to one of his guards. He strode up to the door of the inn and pounded on it. Metal-clad though it was, his fists left visible depressions in the surface.

‘Open this door in the name of the Saviours!’ he boomed, using his power to amplify his voice. ‘Open it, or, so help me, I will turn it to tinder.’

Within a few heartbeats there was the sound of bolts being drawn and a pale young face looked out.

‘Open the door for your holy Saint, girl! Ingrid, isn’t it?’

The girl gulped, pulled back the door with some effort and stood aside so that the glowering Saint could enter. She curtsied as he passed and said tremulously, ‘Welcome, holy one.’

‘Prepare food and drink for my men, Ingrid, while they stable their horses. Captain Skathis, have the man and woman confined to separate rooms upstairs. You’ll find the rooms quite secure, and the girl has keys. I sense no plague here.’

‘As you will it, holy one.’

‘On second thoughts, girl, leave the victuals for now. You and I need to exchange words in private first.’

‘In private, holy one?’ she asked faintly.

‘Yes, girl, unless you want an audience to your crimes and shame?’

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. ‘Th-this way, holy one.’ She led the giant representative of the Saviours into the side room and sat in one of the chairs. Her hands shook as she held onto the front of her dress. Her knees knocked together and then urine began to trickle onto the wooden floor beneath her feet.

Azual wrinkled his nose in distaste – it was at times like this that he wished his senses weren’t quite so sharp – but his voice was not unkind as he said, ‘You need not fear me, child. My duty is the good care of the People. Come, collect yourself.’

Ingrid nodded and pulled a small handkerchief from her sleeve with which to wipe her nose. ‘Yes, holy one.’

‘Now, tell me, Ingrid. Where is your father?’

Her eyes showed naked fear. ‘My father, h-holy one? Why, he went to town for provisions.’

Azual sighed patiently. ‘Did not your father explain to you that the blessed Saviours and their holy Saints know all things?’

She shook her head, tears beginning to run freely down her drawn cheeks.

‘I know that he is dead, child. I know that you have disposed of the body. Do you understand it is a sin and blasphemy to lie to a Saint?’

Ingrid began choking and sobbing. Her voice was a wail as she begged, ‘Forgive me! I did not know what else to do. He smelt bad, and it’s my job to keep the rooms clean. I’m sorry if I did wrong.’

‘I am not without compassion and mercy, child. I know how your father mistreated you. Do you really want my forgiveness?’

‘Yes, more than anything, holy one!’

Azual smiled. ‘Good. Then you will tell me everything you know of the boy.’

‘Of course, holy one,’ she said without hesitation. ‘Yes. It was him who killed my father. He did it! Only …’

‘I know what Valor tried to do, Ingrid, but tell me anyway.’

‘My father tried to lie with him, holy one, and then Irkarl killed him. He left without paying his bill either.’

‘Irkarl, you say?’

‘Yes, the boy. He said that was his name. Irkarl from Heroes’ Brook.’

‘I see. Go on. Which way did the boy go? Towards Saviours’ Paradise or back towards Heroes’ Brook?’

‘I-I don’t know, holy one. I’m sorry,’ she said in earnest distress.

‘No matter. Tell me, Ingrid, was there anything else you noticed about Irkarl?’

She bit her lip. ‘Erm … he was wearing some funny leather, like armour, with gold patterns all over it, but that’s all really.’

Armour with gold patterns. Why did that seem familiar?
‘What sort of patterns? Could you draw them if you had to?’

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t really remember them. They were … confusing, holy one. Please don’t be angry!’

Azual gave her a perfunctory smile. ‘But what of you, Ingrid? Running this inn alone is a lot to ask of a child. You don’t have anyone to protect you. Perhaps you would prefer to return to Saviours’ Paradise.’

Ingrid set her jaw. ‘There’s never been anyone to protect me from my father anyway, holy one. I all but ran the place even when he was alive. The inn is my home and all I have. Please let me stay!’

‘Now you ask a favour of me, after your sin and blasphemy?’ Azual sighed. ‘Well, I suppose I could Draw you to the Saviours, and then it might be more appropriate. You could become an adult of means and could go into one of the towns on a market day to pick yourself a husband. Should I bestow such a blessing on you, Ingrid?’

‘Oh yes, please, holy one! I will try to be better, honestly I will. I will pray both morning and night from now on, and make sure I always thank the Saviours before eating or drinking.’

‘Very well. Then do as I tell you, Ingrid. First drink this phial of wine. Hold your nose if it helps with the taste. And roll up your sleeve. This won’t hurt.’

Jed hated small spaces, and his bear-like size made most rooms seem small. That was why he was a hunter – so he could be out in the open most of the time. Small spaces made him feel confined and trapped, as if he were in a cage or snare. He’d become panicky and angry if Maria wasn’t there to calm him with her soothing words. When he’d been a younger man, friends had got him drunk and locked him in a wood store on his wedding night. When he’d come to and realised he was shut in, he’d felt like he was suffocating and had become wild to be free. He’d slammed his fists into the walls, not caring that his hands bled and his knuckles broke. He’d charged at them with shoulder and head, putting great gashes in his forehead and making everything reel. Just as an animal caught in a trap will chew a limb off to be free before the hunter can come to break its neck, Jed wrecked every part of his body to destroy the wood store around him. The People of New Sanctuary had laughed and shouted to Maria, ‘Your man is so hot and strong for you that there’ll be no building left standing after tonight!’ ‘He’s so insane with passion that he’ll break the marriage bed!’ ‘Do you want the physick to come call on you in the morning, Maria?’ ‘Maybe you should have that gold ring put through his nose so that bull of yours can be more easily led.’ He remembered little else of the night except the cool hands and whispering voice as she braced and bandaged his injuries.

Now he was not just in a small room, he was also chained. There were locked, heavy shutters on the windows. His chest felt tight and he struggled to breathe. The only thing that kept him in his chair was Maria’s original instruction to remain calm and to wait for her signal before trying to escape. Of course, she’d been right – if he’d tried to fight so many Heroes when they were first taken, he’d be dead by now, albeit with a good number of their corpses lying beside his own. And if he were dead, he’d never see his beloved Maria or dear Jillan again, and never be able to help or protect them as he should.

Maria had always been the smarter one in their marriage, had always known when to fight and when not to, had always known when his temper was about to get them all in a lot of trouble, and had always known just what to say to draw him back from the precipice. She understood the Empire far better than he did: why there were Saints, Heroes and Ministers, why there were silly rules and why people were always trying to confine and trap them. And she knew how to make sure Jed and Jillan got just enough space to save them from self-harm.

It was so hard for Jed to remain calm – especially when there was so little air in the room – but he had to do what Maria told him. Without her, he was nothing. She was a special woman, he knew, one whom most of the men in New Sanctuary had coveted, but she had chosen him. This woman, who had such perception and insight that she seemed almost magical, had chosen him. This woman, who read people and the seasons so well that she seemed to know the future, had chosen to share her life with him. He was the luckiest man who ever lived, or rather, as he sometimes thought, he’d only really begun to live the day Maria had informed him that the two of them would be stepping out together from thereon. He sometimes wondered why she had chosen him, but whenever he asked her she would simply ask him some confusing question like why the sun rose every morning or why leaves fell from the trees in autumn. Then she’d shake her head, smooth his furrowed brow with her palm, kiss his cheek (on tiptoe) and tell him to go chop some wood and think about something more useful.

Their lives in New Sanctuary had been wonderful … until that terrible visit by the Saint, which Jed didn’t like to think about. They’d had several years in which they’d prospered: every arrow Jed loosed while out hunting had seemed to hit a deer or some other prize, and Maria’s leather work, with its unusual designs, became much sought after, even beyond New Sanctuary. Women came to learn her patterns and craft, and everyone in New Sanctuary had treated her with respect. It was then that Maria had become pregnant and Jillan had been born. Jed’s life was complete – he’d never been happier. Yet, by contrast, Maria had become more and more distracted. Others had reassured him that it was nothing unusual in a new mother, but when he’d come home and discovered tear tracks on her face, he’d demanded to know what was wrong. He’d refused to let her put him off.

‘Something terrible is going to happen.’

Jed felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He was not so foolish as to dismiss his wife’s fears out of hand. ‘What will happen, beloved?’ he’d whispered.

‘I-I’m not sure. But I think it will happen if we don’t leave New Sanctuary.’

Jed had baulked at that. They had everything they’d ever wanted in New Sanctuary: friends, trade and good standing in the community, not to mention their beautiful baby son to think of. If they were to leave suddenly, there would be a lot of difficult questions to answer, and the elders and the Heroes might even forbid it. He’d begged her to let them stay a little while longer – half hoping her forebodings of doom would pass – and she’d reluctantly agreed, although she began to store more of their things in easily transportable bags.

Then the Saint had come.

Now the door opened and allowed Jed a few moments in which he could breathe more easily, but then it closed and the face of death was looking down at him. Its malevolent bloody eye saw into him. There was a shining halo of power around the Saint that burned Jed’s skin whenever it came close.

‘Did Jillan go to Saviours’ Paradise or Heroes’ Brook, Jedadiah?’ Saint Azual asked. ‘Answer your holy Saint or be found guilty of sin.’

Jed had clouded his mind so that the monster before him would not simply be able to pluck the knowledge from his head. Maria had taught him the trick back in New Sanctuary, although at the time she’d said it was just to help him control his temper, anger and fear of small spaces. ‘Learning not to think of bad things often prevents them happening,’ she’d explained. Then, when they’d left New Sanctuary, she’d told him to cloud his thoughts as she’d taught him so that they would not attract the attention of the bad things. ‘It’s similar to people making a warding sign against evil, Jedadiah. Trust me.’ It had seemed to work at the time, but now he had the full and undivided attention of that same evil and he was terrified the trick would not work.

The Saint frowned and tutted. ‘I can force it from you if necessary, Jedadiah. Yours is neither a strong nor a trained mind. You are a simple and honest man, though, yes? I am loath to treat such a man so severely. Surely you understand that I only do this out of duty to the Saviours and the People, no? Jillan is a danger to all those around him. I do not seek to harm him, however; I simply need to Draw the taint from him so that he will no longer be a danger to others. He will have to answer for the killings of course – he’s killed again, by the way – but I know he was not entirely to blame. I promise you, Jedadiah, that after a few years he will be able to return to a normal life. He can marry Hella, as you’d always hoped, and have children and happiness. Surely you want that for him, yes? You will have grandchildren. You just need to tell me where he has gone.’