The Godspeaker Trilogy (121 page)

She looked at Alasdair. “Well. Are you ready?”

The smile he gave her was reckless. “Not at all. Are you?”

Her answering smile was knife-edged. “Oh, Alasdair. I am.”

She led her people onwards, around the avenue’s next sweeping bend. It took them out of their shallow valley … and revealed the extent of the force ranged against her, cutting off her access to the township beyond.

Marlan was dressed in his most impressive vestments. Ropes and rivers of gold shone in the sun. His eyes were a cold glitter. In a show of humility, he bestrode a white mule.

You humbug. You mockery. You haven’t drawn a humble breath in your life.

Behind him stood the Court Ecclesiastica, splendid on horses, their vestments almost as grand. Ranged on either side of them, Commander Idson and some one hundred skeins of mounted Kingseat guards, unsheathed swords in their hands. It broke her heart to see them. They should have been standing for her.

Helfred sat beside his uncle, mounted on a donkey. His robe was putrid, his hands bound before him with rough rope. Even at a distance she could see his mouth was gagged, his face swollen, cut and bruised.

Rhian pinched her lips tight. “Gentlemen,” she said, not taking her eyes from the prolate, “I’m going to speak privately with Marlan. Alasdair, ride with Zandakar and our armed guard. Be ready to react if there’s foul play. Edward, Rudi, Adric—fall back to the people. Make sure they don’t panic.” As Adric tried to protest, she held up one clenched fist. “ They are your people too, Adric! Prove to me you’re worthy of them!”

Without waiting to see her orders being followed, she nudged her horse into a slow canter … and rode to finish things once and for all.

“Prolate,” she greeted Marlan, drawing rein. “You stand in my way. Take your Churchmen and your misguided soldiery and yield this royal road to me. I would ride into my capital and be greeted by my people.”

Marlan spat on the ground between them. “No.”

Unsurprised, she looked more closely at poor battered Helfred. “So much for family feeling. You do my chaplain a grave disservice. He came to you in good faith with my offer of clemency. I am not encouraged by the manner of your reply.”

Marlan’s lip curled in a sneer. “It is not my intention to encourage you. You are an abomination in the sight of God. Your disobedience is grievous and damages this kingdom.” He pointed past her to the people of Kingseat, shifting and pushing to see what was going on. “Look at the souls you’ve ensnared in your wiles. They are all denied God for you. They will die in the dark. Were he alive your father would bleed at what you’ve done. You and your … husband … will surrender into my keeping and face the righteous wrath of my Church.”

Ignoring him and his preposterous pronouncement, she smiled gravely at Helfred. “Chaplain, your sufferings on my behalf will never be forgotten.”

Unable to speak, Helfred nodded, blinking.

Marlan’s fist crashed against the side of Helfred’s head. “This offal is not for you to thank or notice! Henceforth you will see nothing I do not permit you to see!”

She throttled fury. “Marlan, you have no authority over me. I am Ethrea’s queen and you are my subordinate, not the other way around. From the day you took office you tried to circumvent my father. If not for him you’d have strangled Ethrea in your greed for wealth and power. You failed to defeat Eberg. You have failed to defeat me. Prolate Marlan, I relieve you of your duties. You are not fit to be prolate. You are not fit to keep swine.”

“And you are a harlot ! Not fit to rule a midden !” Marlan was spittled, panting with rage. “Idson! Take her!”

“No!” Rhian screamed, wrenching her horse round on its hocks. At Marlan’s cry Alasdair had spurred forward, Zandakar two heartbeats behind, her lethally trained bodyguards and her soldier escort hard on their heels. No—no—no—no —She turned back to Idson and his men, closing in. “You fools, don’t die for Marlan—get back—sheathe your—”

It was no use. The sane world disappeared in a clash of swords and horses and pain. She didn’t have a sword, she only had a knife, men were shouting, howling, she heard horses roaring, Marlan cursing, Alasdair’s voice crying “Rhian! Get away!” She was bleeding, or someone was bleeding, there was blood on her arm and on her horse and on her blade. She was trapped in the madness, sliding from the saddle. If she fell in this chaos she’d be trampled to death.

And then an enormous cry went up, not from the battling soldiers… but from the people of Kingseat who’d come to witness her triumph. It was echoed by the most venerables of the Court Ecclesiastica.

“A miracle! A miracle!”

The words halted the battling soldiers mid-slash. Or maybe it was God who halted the bloodshed. Broke the combatants apart and dropped the swords from their hands.

Panting, weeping, Rhian half-fell, half-slid from her horse into the road. Idson’s soldiers were falling to their knees. Her own soldiers, well-used to burning men, backed their horses away and waited, unperturbed.

Wreathed in sweet flames, Dexterity walked into their midst.

“Shed no more blood in a cause without merit,” he proclaimed, his voice subtly changed as it always changed when God set him on fire. “Let brother not slay brother for the man who has lost his way. Let your hurts be healed, let your hearts fill with peace …”

He waved one incandescent hand. Every soldier cried out as their battle-wounds were mended. Rhian felt the heat flash through her, felt the pain in her slashed arm and thigh vanish.

Oh, Dexterity. You have saved me again.

The toymaker spread his arms wide, and the unconsuming fire flared to new heights. Marlan’s white mule panicked, throwing him to the ground. With a snarl the denounced prolate lurched to his feet.

“Trickery! This is trickery!” he shouted as his venerables fell back, amazed. “You credulous fools, she turns to hedge-witchery and heathen practice to make you believe she is chosen by God! This is nothing . This is nonsense . Look at that man there, a man with blue hair!” His shaking finger pointed at Zandakar, side by side with Alasdair. “He is behind this, you can be sure of it!” He swung round to Idson, who stood transfixed. “Arrest her, Commander! Do you hear me? Arrest her! ”

But Idson, ignoring him, slowly dropped to his knees.

Dexterity halted an arm’s length from rage-spittled Marlan. “O Man, you must listen,” he said. “Turn aside from your wickedness. Repent your black sins. Rhian is God’s chosen, she is the true queen of Ethrea. Acknowledge her sovereignty before you are condemned.”

“Her sovereignty ?” Marlan was screeching, his urbane mask stripped away. “I acknowledge her bastardry! She’s a bitch and a whore! She is queen of nothing but shit! And you . What are you ? Some tricked-up pretender set to frighten little boys?”

“Prolate Marlan, be wary.” Dexterity’s voice was sorrowful now. “You stand on unfirm ground. God watches you … and God despairs.”

Marlan was almost dancing in his fury. “God? God? You fool, there is no God ! There is man and there is nature and in between a paper shield, the desperate scribblings of other fools who can’t bear to live alone!”

His outburst shocked cries from the Court Ecclesiastica. Helfred was staring, still safe on his donkey, tears running unbridled down his face.

“Marlan, I command you, say nothing more!” said Dexterity. “Unless you wish to ask Rhian’s forgiveness and the forgiveness of that power you so wantonly deny.”

Marlan laughed, then looked around him at his venerables, who were kissing their jewelled prayer beads and their Rollin medallions. “You credulous cretins! Can’t you see this is mopery? This is illusion and you are stupid to give it credence! Look! I shall prove it! I shall show you the truth !”

Rhian saw what he intended a heartbeat before he did it. She hated him, passionately, but still she leapt forward. “No, Marlan! Don’t do it! ”

But Marlan ignored her, as he’d always ignored her. He seized Dexterity by the hand … and burst into flames like dry kindling in a firestorm.

Unlike Dexterity, he was not protected by God.

When it was over … his last hideous screams faded to silence… and she’d finished retching herself empty of bile … she staggered to where her prolate had burned.

All that remained of him was a scattering of ash. Even as she stared at it, a warm breeze sprang up without warning … and the ash was blown away.

Still serene, still inhuman, Dexterity drifted to Helfred, who had tumbled from his donkey and was kneeling on the ground. Dexterity’s burning finger touched his bindings and his gag. They fell to pieces and he was free. Then Dexterity’s palm touched Helfred’s hurt face and it healed in an instant.

Dexterity smiled. “Chaplain, be upstanding.”

Dazed and silent, Helfred stood.

“Helfred, you are God’s chaplain no longer. For your service to him, for your service to Rhian, be now Ethrea’s prolate … despite your tender years.”

Rhian choked. My prolate? Helfred? Oh no … don’t I get a say?

Next, Dexterity looked at the venerables of the Court Ecclesiastica. To a man, without speaking, they slid from their horses and abased themselves in the road.

“Proud servants of God, you let yourselves be led astray. Here is your new prolate, who will keep your feet upon the righteous path. Here is your queen, who is lawful in God’s sight. You are forgiven. Do not misstep again.”

The venerables gabbled promises and kissed their prayer beads again.

“Rhian of Ethrea …”

She stepped forward, aware of Zandakar watching. Of Alasdair watching, letting her stand alone as Ethrea’s queen. Aware of her dukes and her people, crowding closer, awed and hushed and knowing they witnessed history.

“Rhian of Ethrea, this is your time,” said Dexterity. “A darkness is coming. You are tasked to defeat it. The free world trembles. Its fate is in your hands.”

“ What? ” she said. “What darkness? What do you mean? How can the world’s fate be in my —”

Like a snuffed candle the golden flames extinguished. Blinking, Dexterity stared around him then began his familiar slow collapse. Rhian caught him in her arms before he touched the ground.

“Let me through there! Let me through!” a sharp voice demanded over the excited mutterings of the crowd, and then Ursa joined them, carrying her physick’s bag. “Jones, speak to me. Jones! What’s your name?”

Dexterity frowned muzzily. “Jones, I think. Isn’t it?”

“Jones!”

He moaned. “Yes, I’m here, Ursa. Please. Don’t shout.”

“It’s all right, Your Majesty, I’ve got him,” said Ursa.

She was so protective. God bless her for it. Rhian eased him into the older woman’s arms, then turned as she felt a hand touch her shoulder.

“Oh, Alasdair !” she whispered, and let him pull her to her feet. “Did you hear that? My God, what does it mean?”

They were surrounded now by a babble of noise. As though Dexterity’s collapse had broken some spell, the soldiers and the people and her own retinue milled and marvelled and laughed and cried.

Before Alasdair could answer, another hand touched her. This time it was Helfred. “Your Majesty—forgive me—”

She eased herself out of Alasdair’s embrace. “Yes, Chaplain?” She shook her head. “Or should I say Prolate ?”

He had the grace, at least, to look embarrassed. “Your Majesty …”

“Never mind, Helfred. What do you need?”

“I need Ursa,” he whispered, and cast a glance towards her dukes, who were battling their way through the crowd to join them. “It’s the councillors. In the cells below the castle. Henrik Linfoi, Lord Harley …” His voice trailed away.

“Henrik?” said Alasdair, his face darkening. “Did Marlan hurt him? Helfred . Did Marlan—”

Helfred nodded. “Yes.”

Rhian took Alasdair’s arm. He felt turned to stone. “I’ll fix this, Alasdair. I promise.” She looked for Idson, saw him hovering nearby. “Commander!”

The chastened Kingseat commander dropped to one knee. “Your Majesty. Forgive me. I—”

“Never mind that now!” she said, not caring for his shame. “I have several tasks for you. Send word to your soldiers in the town. They are to stand down at once and return to their quarters. You and your men here will ride with me on my progress, except for three guards who’ll take my physick to the castle cells.” She smiled, not kindly. “I think you know why.”

“Yes, Majesty,” Idson whispered.

“Yes, indeed. Ursa!”

The physick looked up from tending to Dexterity, who sat on the ground, his face washed pale, his hands trembling. “Majesty?”

“Go to the castle cells with the guards Commander Idson gives you.”

She frowned. “But—”

“ Go now . Once you have seen the men imprisoned there, tell the guards what you must have to do your work. They will obey you implicitly—” She turned. “Won’t they, Commander?”

Idson nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. Madam Physick? If you’ll come with me?”

With a last anxious look at Dexterity, Ursa picked up her bag and followed the commander.

Rhian took a deep breath and let it out, hard. Dear God, this was too much to think of, too much after so long exiled from her home. She looked at her dukes and steeled herself to remain strong.

“Your Graces, your council kinsmen are held in the castle. When our business is concluded you shall see them, never fear. Do not argue! ” she added, as Adric opened his mouth. “Instead inform our soldiers and my bodyguards that we will shortly resume our progress into the town. Helfred!”

He offered her a small bow. “Your Majesty?”

“You and your Court Ecclesiastica will also join my progress. Afterwards you’ll repair to the Prolates Palace. You have much work ahead of you in the healing of this kingdom. Might I suggest your first order of conduct is to remove all interdicts immediately ?”

“Be assured we shall, Majesty,” said Helfred.

“Then be so good as to organise yourself and your venerables. I wish to depart in a very short time.”

Another small bow. “Certainly, Your Majesty.”

Bemused, Rhian watched him collect the white mule from the soldiers who held its reins, go to mount it, then stop. Hand the reins back and instead retrieve the donkey.

To her great surprise she felt herself swamped by an enormous wave of affection. “God bless you, Helfred. You’ve come a long way.”