Isak grinned. 'Good; if you weren't a suspicious bastard you'd be no use. Now rise and take your seat; you should enjoy these few moments of peace, for there is much to do in Lomin. There is one thing to remember, and it is crucial: it is only united that we'll survive what's coming.'

  The duke stood and took a half-step back before a strange look crossed his face. 'I don't pretend to understand your decision, but I'm a soldier, and as long as you ask me to serve the tribe, I will obey,' he said, and bowed once more.

  'I'm glad to hear it,' Isak said with a smile. 'And now step back; I believe High Cardinal Echer has a few demands.'

  As soon as the new duke had been greeted by Lokan and Sempes, all the rituals observed, Chief Steward Lesarl came forward and planted himself on Isak's right, perching on a stool that had been left for that purpose. Isak had no idea who most of the men in the room were, and with Lesarl close enough to supply their names, he was also conveniently close enough to be involved in any discussion that might take place.

  The High Cardinal did not forget his place in the proceedings. As the dukes had presented their sword-hilts to Isak, to take if he wished, so Echer knelt and offered the oversized ring that showed Nartis's snake coiled around a sceptre. Isak thought the lapis lazuli disc looked curiously similar to Nartis's coin, which had hung from Morghien's augury chain.

  I wouldn't put it past Morghien to have stolen the coins for his chain. Isak smiled inwardly, but then it faded as he thought, How many priests will I have to kill to prevent civil war here? Enough to make my own chain?

  'High Cardinal, I thank you for your respectful greeting,' Isak began, 'but I hear there are some in your service who shame the Gods they profess to serve.'

  Echer remained kneeling as he withdrew his hand and looked up at Isak. 'There are many of your citizens who shame the Gods. I cannot blame my penitents for their zeal in showing the people the error of their ways.'

  'Zeal is all well and good, High Cardinal, but when it takes the Palace Guard to prevent fighting on the streets of Tirah, it goes too far. I hear there are many towns where blood has been spilled.'

  'There are sinners everyone,' spat Echer, 'and their blood is better spilled than left to offend the Gods further.'

  Isak took a deep breath. There was a fervent light in Echer's eye, one that Isak longed to snuff out. He was well aware he couldn't afford to let the situation continue – it would escalate as long as there were clear lines of conflict. What passed for religious law in the Land was a garbled mix of edicts, history and myths that required a great deal of interpretation. As yet, the High Cardinal had not put forward any clear agenda, other than the most obvious -the observance of Prayerday, censure of taverns and whorehouses-but Lesarl was convinced there was some sort of plan buried in Echer's sporadic pronouncements.

  'The cults have no legal authority,' Isak said firmly, 'and yet your soldiers have attacked and killed in the name of the Gods. They have made summary judgments, and have carried out the punishment. In Chrien I hear a tavern was set alight and only the arrival of local watchmen stopped the arsonists from preventing anyone leaving.'

  'Regretful incidents,' Echer said, although his face told a different story, 'but they demonstrate the will of the people. No longer will they allow the law of the Gods to be broken; no longer do they wish profit to sit at the high altar. I do not condone such acts, but you ignore the will of the people at your peril. This moral decay must be stopped or the Gods themselves will be forced to demonstrate their ire.'

  'And how is this to be achieved?'

  'I have prepared a document for your approval, my Lord.' Echer glared up at Isak, as though daring the white-eye lord to deny him anything he asked for. 'This document has been circulated to the suzerains attending here today, and copies are to be displayed in every temple in Tirah.'

  'You walk a dangerous path, High Cardinal,' Lesarl said softly. The Chief Steward's face was hard now, coldly focused. 'Making demands as you display your military strength could be construed as coming dangerously close to insurrection.'

  'My penitents are not an army, except in spirit,' Echer said with an indulgent smile that sickened Isak. 'We are not warriors, just men and women driven to preserve the majesty of the Gods.'

  Lesarl didn't try to hide the contempt in his voice. 'Beating people to death in the street bears no relation to divine majesty. Providing noblemen and magistrates with armed "escorts" to get to the temple on Prayerday, keeping them prisoner for hours while your illegal courts are conducted-'

  'Only a heretic would call debase our piety by describing it that way,' Echer interjected with a snarl.

  Isak, judging he had let Lesarl stir the pot long enough, raised a hand to stop the exchange. 'I will not have this argument here. Your document will give us much to think about, your Eminence. I understand you have grievances, and change will come, but the rule of law is in my name and mine alone. Any priest or cardinal found presiding over any form of court – anyone not a recognised magistrate – will be arrested. Do you understand?'

  Echer hesitated, visibly thrown by the white-eye's willingness to compromise. 'Of course, my Lord, the rule of law should not be blurred,' he said at last. 'If there are new laws to guide the people back onto the path of piety, how could I complain who enforces them? As long as you act swiftly. You will permit me to exert authority over the cults of the Farlan, as is my right as leader of the Synod. And I trust you agree that authority extends to all affiliated organisations?'

  'You are talking about the Dark Monks – the Brethren of the Sacred Teachings?'

  'Among others. We will not stand for the presence of cabals who pretend to piety yet bow to no authority.'

  'High Cardinal,' Isak said in a level tone, 'no such warnings are necessary between men of Nartis. Please remember your domain is of the ordained. It is my place to shepherd the pious majority, and I shall be vigilant in my duty.'

  The whole subject revolted Isak, most particularly the smug way power was exerted. He and Lesarl had rehearsed this conversation, and Isak had flown into a rage the first time as his Chief Steward had acted the High Cardinal's part rather too effectively, twisting compliments to act as insults, describing brutality as 'fatherly chastisement'.

  Now he continued, 'In the morning I will make my own worship a public act, to serve as an example for the whole tribe to follow. I would be honoured if you joined me at the Temple of Nartis for the dawn service. I have already issued orders regarding groups like the Brethren of the Sacred Teachings -1 will brook no challenge to my authority – just as I will not accept misguided folk pursuing the will of the Gods themselves.'

  The High Cardinal bowed his head, but not quickly enough to hide the glee spreading across his face. The sight of Isak worshipping at the Temple of Nartis under Echer's sanction would be invaluable to him. Isak just had to hope it would mollify the man long enough for Lesarl's purposes.

  'My Lord is wise beyond his years and a devoted servant of his God,' he murmured. 'I thank Nartis for his wisdom in choosing you as Lord Bahl's successor.'

  Qods, do you think that's me whipped and cowering? Are you really so insane?

  Isak didn't bother answering his own question. The man was utterly deluded. He had instigated many of the violent attacks that had taken place and Lesarl was afraid his madness could spark a civil war. The cults were spending their wealth carelessly to swell the ranks of their penitents and novices.

  Cardinal Veck approached after the High Cardinal, but clearly had nothing further to add and he soon gave way to Cardinal Certinse, the last of the sitting cardinals of the Synod. Certinse looked drawn and pale; he had lost weight since Isak had seen him last, and his nervousness was palpable. Bloodshot eyes indicated many sleepless nights – no great surprise seeing his sister had joined his brother and nephew among the recent dead; she'd poisoned herself before summoning the daemon in Irienn Square.

  Isak had no problem keeping his face stern as he reminded himself of the cardinal's crimes, which had at last been unearthed. As he reached out to touch the cardinal's gold ring of office, he brushed the man's finger with his own and quested out, sensing what he could. The touch of Nartis was weak, barely more than an echo – and confirmation of what Lesarl had turned up.

  'Look up, man! Stand up straight and show some backbone,' Isak snapped. 'I'm about to save your life here.'

  The cardinal flinched as though he'd been struck, but he did manage to lift his head and keep his terror-filled eyes raised.

  'No one can hear us, but your life depends on your ability to act; understand me?'

  'I- Yes, my Lord, I understand.' Certinse's eyes betrayed more than a little confusion, but the man was a born politician. His nostrils flared as though finding a scent.

  'Good. Now you will have to face me down as we talk; save the finger-wagging for later but they must see you arguing, do you understand? Shake your head if you do.'

  Certinse hardly hesitated at the strange instruction before violently shaking his head. A little colour returned to his cheeks as the condemned man grasped at that glimmer of hope.

  'Excellent. I'll make this quick. You're unaffected by the rage of the Gods, and I know why. Don't bother to deny it, just let it stand. I am certain this is because Nartis has been replaced by some daemon ally of Cordein Malich's. I have evidence that you were part of the Malich conspiracy from the start.'

  Certinse opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. He gave Isak a wary look. 'What is it you want from me?' he asked in a small voice.

  'To look bloody angry would be a start, not scared, you fucking cowardly heretic'

  Isak's words had the desired effect as Certinse bristled and his face purpled with anger. 'Whatever evidence that deluded maniac Disten gave you, it's false,' he growled.

  The bluster prompted a wolfish grin on Isak's face. He smothered it quickly. 'Sorry, but no – it's real. You didn't leave much of a trail yourself, but your aides weren't so careful, and their appetites needed paying for. They stole from the bodies they were told to bury – and there's more than one alibi that depends on the deceased disappearing at sea with all his belongings.'

  This struck home like a physical blow. Certinse managed not to sag, but Isak saw the beaten look in his eye. He knew he'd been caught.

  'Why am I here then? Why have you not arrested me?'

  'Because this evidence means I own you, and much as I hate it, your past crimes mean you could be the solution to the present problem.'

  'I don't understand,' Certinse said, sounding pathetic.

  'It's simple,' Isak growled, leaning forward in his seat. The sight of his massive frame looming closer sparked" fear in Certinse's eyes, but any animation was better than exhausted acceptance to onlookers, Isak thought. 'You have worshipped daemons and lived, and that means you are no longer bound to your God. Consequently, you are unaffected by this current rage. As much as it disgusts me, I must work with what I've got. Right now, you are the only cleric within the cults of Death or Nartis I can be certain is rational. So you will suggest you yourself are sent to conduct negotiations with Chief Steward Lesarl over the High Cardinal's new religious laws, and I must accept this insult, or lose face.'

  'You're just accepting this madness?' Certinse asked, aghast. 'Have you read his document?'

  'Right now I have no choice but to mollify the cults, or face insurrection at a time I cannot afford it – you'll be easier to mollify than Echer, because the evidence I have means you'll burn if it ever reaches a court.'

  'You cannot murder the High Cardinal!'

  'Who said anything about murder? He's an old man using magic to keep himself strong; I'm confident he won't last long.'

  'And then?'

  'And then your prominence in these negotiations will make you the natural successor to the position of High Cardinal. You will quell any suspicions of foul play, do your piece of screaming and shouting about moral decay, then accept a lessened set of laws -the bare minimum necessary to keep the people from fighting in the streets.'

  'You're making me High Cardinal,' Certinse said in disbelief.

  'In return for keeping control of the cults,' Lesarl joined in. 'You might need to have Jopel Bern forced from office, but I'm sure you could manage such a thing. Keep your house in order and you will have everything you desire: the position you have plotted to take for decades, and a long life in which to enjoy it. Now, go back and tell them we quarrelled about Disten's investigation.'

  Isak sat back and watched the emotions play over Certinse's face. It took just a few seconds for Certinse to realise his position, then he shook his head fiercely and agreed.

  Once satisfied his anger had been noted by the room, Certinse returned to report his argument to his fellow cardinals while the rest of the Synod presented themselves. Out of the corner of his eye Isak saw the frantic whispered conversation, but he managed to keep his expression blank to greet each of the faces arriving in front of him.

  He paid little attention to most, save for the sad-eyed Corlyn, the head of the pastoral branch of the cult who administered the rural shrines and temples. He showed no signs of being affected by his God's rage. Instead, the gentle-spirited old man had an expression of awful disappointment on his face; he knew some sort of deal had been brokered by the High Cardinal's manner and was wounded by the ease with which Isak had apparently acceded to Echer's demands.

  Of the suzerains, he greeted several as warmly as he could, but his mind was elsewhere. The Corlyn's distress had turned his heart cold and made him immediately regret the deal he would have to swallow. The measures would doubtless be so drastic that even a compromise would be terrible. A voice at the back of his mind told him he'd made a hash of offering his condolences to Suzerain Torl. The ageing warrior had lost both family and hurscals to violent clashes with bands of penitents, all because he had been revealed to be a Dark Monk, one of the deeply religious Brethren of the Sacred Teachings. Isak's only consolation was that Torl had been too distracted to take offence. He had quickly replaced the colours of his mourning: the hood he had pushed back only when greeting his lord was red, for a death in battle.

  Isak's mood was further darkened by the grim news brought by Suzerain Saroc, Torl's friend and fellow member of the Brethren. Saroc was as far from the image of a Dark Monk as could be, clad as he was in silks of white, yellow and gold, but his round face bore no trace of his customary grin as he knelt in front of Isak.

  'My Lord, I hear from Tor Milist that Duke Vrerr has grown pious,' he said hurriedly, his voice tight with anger. 'Normally I'd applaud such a thing, but the man's a fucking cockroach who'd do anything to save his own skin. From what I hear he's made contact with someone within the cult of Death – and that's the reason they have so many novices and penitents looking like experienced mercenaries. He's terrified you're going to march south and sweep him up as you expand the border to include Helrect and whatever's left of Scree. He knows he can't fight off a full-scale assault on Tor Milist, so his mercenaries are better employed to divide us and create civil war here instead.'

  'How're things within your border?' Isak asked.

  Saroc's scowl deepened. 'Difficult. There are too many armed men in the suzerainty for my liking. They're even trying to dictate behaviour in the abbeys and monasteries. They're pressuring those not as rabid as their leaders to at least declare their public support. If it wasn't for the fact that we've standing garrisons in our towns, there'd have been serious bloodshed already.'

  Isak sat back and sighed. 'Whatever we do, it's only a matter of time before that happens.'

  His Chief Steward looked worried.

  Despite the weather, everyone retired outside once the ceremony was concluded. A regiment of servants waited with plentiful jugs of hot spiced wine to ward off the cold. Inside, the tables were being moved back into position and a feast was being laid out to honour their guests. It wasn't often the vast majority of the tribe's most powerful men were seen together in one room; Lesarl intended to keep them there as long as he could.

  As evening fell, Count Vesna stood at the top of the wide stone stairs watching the noblemen and clerics as they cautiously mingled. Their faces were lit by a perimeter of torches driven into the ground. His role as Lord Isak's bodyguard was over now the ritual had been concluded, but he'd decided to forego the festivities all the same. There were plenty of young men in the crowd below who would doubtless be interested in discussing their wives' merits with him -men whose pride mattered more than Vesna's much-trumpeted duelling skills. As it was, none had yet had the opportunity to provoke an argument with him so they could call him out, but in such company it was always a possibility. If that happened, he'd be needing a clear head.

  It had appealed to the Chief Steward's sense of humour to use Vesna's charms as a weapon; he had bought the count's personal debts to ensure his loyalty. Vesna shook his head with a rueful smile. I'd never have thought I'd feel too old for all that now, but it's happened nonetheless.

  Lord Isak was only a few yards from the bottom of the stair, looking a little bewildered in such company. It was sometimes easy to forget he hadn't been brought up in these circles. He was almost kneeling so he could hear what Suzerain Ranah was saying. Ranah, an octogenarian who sat bolt-upright in his chair, was most likely telling a filthy story, judging by the looks on people's faces.

  Qods, and Tila thinks I was bad, Vesna thought suddenly, remembering when he'd stayed for an evening at the suzerain's manor. That old goat claims all three of his wives died because he wore them out.

  From time to time, Vesna could see Isak look up and direct a plaintive glance in his direction. He didn't move. Lesarl had made it very plain that Vesna was to keep clear unless there was a threat to Isak's person – and that was highly unlikely: Isak had been wound so tightly since the incarnation of the Reapers in Irienn Square that he'd likely cut any threat in slices before Vesna even had his sword drawn.

  'It reminds me of one of my father's hounds,' Vesna said softly to Mihn, who had joined him. He indicated the group of men around Isak.

 

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