Unholy War (12 page)

Cera smiled up at her sadly.
She really doesn’t understand – or care. But I know she’s a good person
. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed her mouth, but again Portia pulled away. ‘Cera, please. I’m too scared. You know what was going to happen when they found you and Gyle together – imagine what they would do to
us
.’

Cera didn’t have to imagine anything. Safians were always stoned to death publically, and sometimes no one even produced any proof; the mere suspicion of perversion was enough.

‘I’m sorry,’ Portia whispered. ‘I’m so afraid when we’re together, ever since that awful night.’ Her eyes dropped. ‘And now I have a child … perhaps it is for the best that I’m to be sent away …’

Cera felt her eyes sting suddenly. ‘What are you saying?’

Portia stroked her cheek. ‘Darling, you knew this couldn’t last. It was something you –
we
– needed, at a terrible time in our lives. But now … it’s just too dangerous.’

‘Amora, I—’

‘We shouldn’t use that word,’ Portia said sadly. ‘It’s too dangerous for us to be lovers.’

Cera clutched her arms. ‘Dearest Portia – making love is the least important thing we do together. It’s your
company
I need. Your
support
. Your
insights
. Your
smile
. Your
hugs
. All of these things matter far more to me than anything we might do in bed.’ She felt her voice crack, but she pressed on, ‘I can live without lovemaking, but I can’t live without your love.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Portia looked away. ‘I’m not brave like you, Cera.’

‘You
are
brave!’ she said fiercely. ‘You have to go to that pig every night and pretend you enjoy it – I couldn’t do that.’

Portia laughed humourlessly. ‘Rukking is just rukking – it doesn’t matter what man it is with. But I don’t want to die. Pater Sol and Mater Lune have seen my sins – will they be merciful? Will they know that I had no choice?’

‘They’ll know,’ Cera replied firmly. ‘How could they not?’ She took a deep breath and stepped slowly, painfully, away from her lover’s arms. ‘Portia, will you come to the Beggars’ Court tomorrow? It would mean so much for you to be there too. Please? For me?’

Portia’s eyelids fluttered rapidly. Her eyes were moist. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered, and fled.

*

The next day, twice as many women filled the Beggars’ Court and the Dorobon palace guard were deployed in the zenana to ensure there was no breach of security. Cera heard about every crime she could imagine, and some she couldn’t. Some of the women were clearly lying, or just attention-seekers, but the crowd itself seemed to know who they were, and if their story didn’t ring true they were shouted down. Gyle watched from above from time to time, his eyes narrowed. Neither Francis nor Portia came near at all.

By the end of the week there were thousands awaiting Cera in the plaza outside. By the end of the month, the Godspeakers were sending Scriptualists to warn her to cease what she was doing or risk open conflict.

Cera took that as a sign that she was making progress.

*

Gurvon Gyle opened up his mind as he felt the contact. He used a mind-cleansing spell that would give him a few minutes of clear thought, though the price would be the redoubling of his headache later. It had been a long and trying month, and one of the things hanging over his head had been the question of if and when he might receive this contact.

< We are at the Winter Court in Bres. It is near dusk and the snow has settled. The torch-dancers are lovely.>
Lucia Fasterius, Living Saint and Mother of the Empire, sounded like a sentimental aunt tonight, but Gurvon wasn’t fooled.

dear
friend, Octa Dorobon …>

He stiffened nervously, though she was thousands of miles away.

Lucia’s voice dropped into a hard, matter-of-fact tone.

She’s backing down, letting me have my win.
He smiled warily.

She paused, then added,

That sobered him up.

He scarcely heard his own reply, for his mind was still flip-flopping over what she had just said:
Those supplies concern me far more than who is nominally in charge
. That was tantamount to handing him control of the kingdom, should he be brave enough to reach out and grasp it.

There’s a logic in that
, he mused.
She knows as well as anyone that a conflict between my people and the Dorobon would effectively hand the kingdom back to the locals. She also knows by now that I have mercenaries on the way, so if she was going to intervene, it would require substantial resources, and she can’t spare them from the Crusade
. He smiled again, more deeply this time.

she asked.

Gurvon doubted Lucia had any idea what ‘primitive’ even looked like.

Lucia’s voice took on an edge.

He chose his words carefully, to begin mending bridges.

Lucia’s mental voice became sharp.

– her voice pierced Gurvon’s aching head – hen exactly did you conceive stealing Javon for yourself?>

He didn’t hesitate, not for an instant.

Her laugh was brittle.

He could hear the sound of her fingers drumming.

He was pretty sure he managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

She fell silent again, and Gurvon pictured her pleasant, matronly face silently fuming.

This was it. If he couldn’t persuade her now, he could measure his lifespan in hours.

Her mental voice could have frozen birds in midair.

Lucia
tsked
angrily. It felt like she was about to lose her temper – but then she recovered herself.

personal
guarantee!>

He scowled.

She went silent for a time, then abruptly she changed subject.

Gurvon paused, and then said carefully,

Lucia smiled faintly at his incredulity.

Gurvon ran his fingers through his hair. That was the true definition of cold-hearted.

He studied her image, and got the sudden feeling that she was troubled by something.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she burst out,

he protested, completely honestly.
hundreds
of magi – you must believe me when I say I am as shocked as anyone.>

Souldrinkers,
Gyle! Has Rashid allied with our oldest enemy?>

Gurvon almost lost the connection.

The blood drained from his face and he felt his mouth go dry. Despite all his years of spying, all his guerrilla warfare, he’d never encountered a true Dokken other than the tame one Calan Dubrayle had displayed at the pre-Crusade council in 926. In his heart he had believed them to be little more than rumour.

he said at last.

hundreds
of Dokken, when we believed there to be no more than a few dozen outcasts eking out their existence in the wild. Rashid will move north next. Kaltus will have a real fight on his hands. The whole Crusade is in danger, Gyle.>

He rubbed his forehead, trying to take this in.
Rashid has outmanoeuvred us all.
He took a deep breath, and sought a positive slant on this news.