The Light of Heaven (27 page)

"All right. We'll try it, but you know I can't let her walk out of here and go looking for Kell. She's not leaving this tavern alive."

"That's between you and her. None of my business."

Gabriella was leaning casually against the bar top, dipping black bread into gravy, when Crowe and Feyn returned. Feyn looked at her with a mix of curiosity and fear, and Gabriella knew instinctively that Crowe had made clear to him that the apparent joke he had told about her was indeed the truth.

"It's all right, God-girl," Crowe said, as if reading her mind. "We're all looking for the same truth today."

"It must rankle you, being in here." Feyn said.

"I didn't come here to cause trouble." Gabriella said.

"No, so your friend - my friend here, actually - has told me." Feyn sat on a stool next to her and nodded to the man behind the bar. "Bring us some paper and charcoal sticks."

"Is one of us writing a confession?"

"The deal is this," Crowe said. "Feyn is going to talk to you, set your mind at ease. He'll help you remember."

"I remember perfectly well." She saw his face in her dreams now and again, whether she wanted to or not.

"Forgive me for wanting to be sure you're not wilfully misleading me," Feyn replied.

Crowe cleared his throat. "You, Dez, will scribble down the face of the assassin you caught. Hopefully, Feyn here will recognise him."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Then we go our separate ways. If he does, though - and I bet he will - then you get his name and a lead on Goran Kell and the Brotherhood knows who to call on and put down."

Gabriella knew that Feyn wouldn't honour his end of the bargain and was sure he must know that she couldn't honour hers either. He would never give up the location of someone as senior as Goran Kell to the Faith. Evidently neither of them intended to let the other leave this tavern alive. She searched Crowe's face, looking for any sign as to which side he was on. She didn't see anything.

Gabriella smiled. "All right."

Feyn led her to a low couch by the window. "I'm just going to talk, all right. Listen to my voice and only my voice."

Gabriella soon found herself falling into the snow-laden morning of the wedding and suddenly she was running again. Faces rushed past her and disappeared into the darkness as she pursued the fleeing assassin.

Somewhere in the distance a voice was whispering.

Suddenly she awoke and found her finger stained with charcoal and a detailed sketch beneath her right hand.

"Well, well," Feyn was saying. "Joachim Foll."

"Who is this Joachim Foll?"

"A mercenary. He used to be one of Mandrian's lieutenants in the Hands."

"Mandrian's Hands..." Gabriella said to herself. "I've heard of them. They fought at Freiport in the war, for the Faith and Vos."

"This has all been a scam, hasn't it?" Feyn's voice rose to a shout as he sensed a conspiracy closing on him. "A con to get this Faith bitch in here where she can kill me!"

The man behind the bar, Erno, suddenly lifted a heavy crossbow and trained it on Gabriella. She wasn't stupid enough to try to run away, but instead grabbed Feyn and pulled him in front of her just as the barman loosed the bolt. It took Feyn in the gut. Crowe grabbed the weapon from the barman's hands and shoved the stock into his face. Feyn lay on the floor, screaming like a stuck pig.

Gabriella knelt beside Feyn. "Tell me where I can find Goran Kell and I'll stop the pain."

"Freedom," he gasped. "He's gone to Freedom."

"At the Glass Mountain?" Gabriella taunted him and was rewarded with a look of utter horror. "We already know about it. And now I know you're not going to be able to warn him, even if any of your spies find out before we get there." She derived satisfaction from his appalled expression. In fact, she got more satisfaction from that than from the way the light went out of his eyes when she broke his neck a second later.

"Come on," Crowe grabbed Gabriella's hand and shoved her out of the tavern. They bolted onto the streets of Turnitia and made a series of quick turns at the first couple of junctions they came to. Racing onto a wide thoroughfare, they bowled over a young man in a grey woollen cloak and then came to a dead stop in front of a platoon of Imperial Vos guards.

Their Captain stepped forward. "You seem to be in a hurry. Perhaps you'd care to explain the great rush at the Citadel?"

Rolling her eyes slightly, Gabriella thrust a scroll into his hand, along with an amulet. "Five ducks migrate in winter," she said.

The guard Captain blanched at the words and quickly looked over the scroll and amulet, before handing them back.

"A thousand apologies, Enlightened Sister... I had no idea."

"Obviously. I don't suppose you could give us an escort out of the city?"

The Captain smiled ingratiatingly. "Of course, Enlightened Sister." He snapped his fingers and his men put away their weapons.

As they began to move at a more relaxed pace, Gabriella took the opportunity to catch up with developments regarding the Brotherhood in Turnitia.

"How are arrests going? Brotherhood and morality crimes in particular?"

"I'm proud to say that the rate of morality crime has been dropping by the week," the Captain said primly. "Every other vice den and Brotherhood safe house has been empty for weeks, some even for months. Of course the thieves guilds still provide problems."

"Thank you, Captain," Gabriella said thoughtfully. She could feel an idea forming at the back of her mind, or at least a fragment of an idea. She didn't like it much at all.

"I don't see why you had to kill him." Crowe said, as they rode together on the road south. "With Feyn dead, you've lost me a valuable employer."

"Sandor Feyn was on a list of proscribed men. It's the duty of all members of the Order of the Swords of Dawn to eliminate such dangerous men, regardless of any other considerations, if they are found."

"I hope it's a short list."

"There are thirteen names currently on it."

"And you just happen to have memorized them? Or just Feyn's?" He rolled his eyes. "Or are you just making this up?"

"It's part of the vows a Knight of the Swords takes when he or she is formally invested."

Crowe gritted his teeth and refused to speak for quite a while. "Well, it's done now. Feyn did his thing and you did yours." He continued reluctantly. "What was it like? Being helped to remember?"

"It was strange," Gabriella said. "When Feyn was talking I saw things. Memories, but... clearer. And some of them were places I'd never been, things I've never seen or done. Does it mean that Feyn was in my head?" Gabriella shuddered.

Crowe almost laughed at the thought. Feyn didn't have a magical bone in his body; just a talent for mild hypnosis.

He thought of telling Gabriella this, but knew in his heart that she wouldn't believe him. Truth to tell, he was as preoccupied about the goblin's mention of a Glass Mountain as she was. More so, really. He tried to tell himself that the gobbo was lying or delirious and that no such thing existed, but he couldn't stop himself feeling afraid.

"Something bothering you?" Gabriella asked.

"Old debts." He said quietly. "Just old debts."

"Debts from the 'Glass Mountain'?"

It was the last question Crowe expected her to ask. "No!"

"Lie to me again and I'll cut your tongue out!"

"I'm a thief, a liar, a murderer, and a lot of other nasty things, Dez. Get used to it."

"Then tell me what you know about the Glass Mountain."

"Really. I've never heard of it. But the name... reminded me of something else."

"Something similar?"

"It just reminded me of an old sailors' legend, but it strikes me that you probably haven't spent much time among sailors."

"However did you guess?"

"I more sort of hoped."

"The legend?" she pressed.

"The story goes that somewhere in the far oceans, beyond the Stormwall, a month west of Sarcre and then God know how far south, there's an island made of diamond. They call it the Isle of the Star, because supposedly it was a star that fell to Twilight. They say a man could make himself rich beyond the proverbial dreams of avarice just by picking up a handful of pebbles from the Isle's beach.

"Of course, with such treasures to be had, there had to be an equally great risk."

He nodded. "There's the Stormwall, which is utterly impassable, at least to normal ships. Imagine hurricanes that could smash the Great Cathedral of Scholten to rubble if they ever came inland, then imagine ten times worse. They say, the island is home to the sea devils." His eyes were looking somewhere more distant by now. Gabriella couldn't help but wonder what they were seeing. Treasures or terrors?

"You were on one of those ships bound for the island, weren't you Crowe?"

"Yes, the Brotherhood - well, I didn't know it was them at the time, who had chartered the ship - employed me for the voyage."

"I was a sword-for-hire looking for work. The ship's Captain, Margrave, was looking for mercenary guards and he hired me for the expedition. Someone was going to pay him handsomely to look for the Isle of the Star. Turns out that 'someone' was a high ranking member of the Brotherhood of the Divine Path, with a couple of really strong Brotherhood magicians on his payroll. None of the rest of us knew that at first. We were just a couple of hired blades and a lot of sailors."

"What happened on the voyage? I'm assuming you didn't find the Isle?"

"Do I look like I came home with a purse full of diamonds?"

"Yet, you did come home."

"Alone, yes."

"What happened?"

"The Stormwall. You might think you've experienced a storm - even a hurricane - but it's nothing, compared to a storm at sea."

"How many people were on your ship?"

"Seventy four." He remembered all their faces; he could see them now, and hear their voices. "Seventy three of them are dead."

"I'm sorry."

Gabriella felt drained just hearing the story. So many people in such a confined space. He must have known all of them and been friends with many. One loss was a killing pain to her - how must it feel, magnified seventy-fold? That was typical of the Brotherhood, not caring how many families they destroyed in their quest to promote and justify their apostasy

He smiled faintly. "Don't look so down, Dez. At least some of them were Brotherhood types. An investor and the two magicians."

"It's still seventy innocents, as well as those three."

"Weather is God's doing, isn't it? Drunkards, brawlers and whoremongers every one. I wouldn't mourn their loss."

"Come on, sinner. We're going."

"And where are we going?"

"We're going to see my mother."

"I have to admit, lass, it's a long time since any skirt took me home to meet her mother. But this isn't exactly how I imagined our relationship going." "She's an archivist for the Faith, at the Cathedral in Andon. I want to consult some of the records she's got in her library there. She used to tell me a story when I was a child and I need to know the original historical version."

"What story? What records?"

"The records about Mandrian's Hands and the story about the Glass Mountain. If it exists, and has been recorded by the Faith, there'll be a location, or even a map, in the Archive. There's a much bigger archive at Scholten, but my mother will have a better chance of having the Glass Mountain story. Mandrian's records might not be there, but he fought in Pontaine so a copy should have been kept when the originals went to Scholten."

Crowe was silent for a long time. "Why would the Faith have records about Joachim of Mandrian?"

"Because if he fought with the Hands at Freiport, then he fought for
us
. And the Faith records everything."

"That I believe. But, why am I coming with you? It seems to me that the opposite direction is looking pretty bloody good right now."

"If you want to go somewhere, I won't stop you. The Faith is fair, sinner."

Crowe scowled as if he'd tasted something particularly unpleasant. "Can't say as I feel particularly redeemed, love."

She could have said that he had helped her and so she felt she owed the same, but she suspected that he wouldn't appreciate that sentiment. She saw that there was something in his soul that needed healing and it would be fair turnabout for what he had done in Solnos.

"You've been a hired blade, Crowe, right?" He nodded. "You've been working on the same task as I have, but now it's finished." He repeated the nod. "So, it strikes me that you're now a blade for hire."

"Now, you're not going to suggest you want to hire me? Haven't I mentioned my dislike of the Faith?"

"You've mentioned feeling similarly about both the Faith and the Brotherhood. You did a job for them, you can do a job for us."

"Since when did the Swords need the likes of me?"

"You're a smuggler and I may need to be smuggled into Freedom. I'll pay you a stipend out of the late Kurt Stoll's funds."

"Where you're going, it'll cost the lot."

"What's the price of a soul?" she murmured under her breath.

CHAPTER 14

The journey to Andon had been quite relaxing this time. Various of Pontaine's military factions were patrolling in case of more goblin incursions, but most of the travellers they passed were merchant caravans with mercenary escorts

She and Crowe made their way into the city and up to the walled Faith complex that was dominated by the cathedral. They were greeted at the door by Marta DeZantez.

Marta took a half step back, looking Gabriella up and down. "My daughter, I didn't expect you back so soon."

"I'm afraid that this isn't just a social visit mother. I'm here to make use of the archive."

"Well, you're more than welcome." Marta let go of her daughter, and looked at Crowe. "Who...?"

"This is Travis Crowe," Gabriella said. "He's working with me."

"The hired help," Crowe supplied helpfully. He stuck out a hand. "Pleased to meet you, missus." Marta shook his hand with a bemused look, then led the way through a dim archway into a high-ceilinged room filled with the musk of paper.