Covenant's End - Ari Marmell Page 0,81
will let such an affront stand?”
“We're not a church!” the other—Pierre—snapped back. “Suvagne's made us more profitable than we ever were under the Shrouded Lord or your god!”
Rumbles of agreement from more than a few of those present, but Igraine could see, as well, the doubt and hesitation in the faces of many.
“Lay down your weapons,” she commanded. “Merely being present here isn't a crime. Most of those arrested by the Guard will be free in a matter of days and can assist in rebuilding the Guild into what it should be.
“Or you can fight, and possibly die, on behalf of the true traitor among us. Even if, by some stroke of fortune, you were to prove victorious, how long do you believe you can survive this life without the Shrouded God's approval?”
By now, she had crossed the armory, wending her way between the racks and the shelves and the indecisive thieves, so that she stood near the door to the powder chamber. Even those who seemed unmoved by her words hadn't yet made any move against her, as she'd known they wouldn't. Perhaps they'd turned their backs on the Shrouded God, but they would still hesitate to murder one of his priestesses within the walls of the Finders’ Guild.
Hesitate, but not necessarily refuse. Pierre and several of the others raised their weapons.
“You're standing with the Guard, against Finders. In my book, that's a lot more treasonous than anything you're blathering about.”
“Then we shall prove it. All of you willing to hear me out, please seat yourselves upon the floor.”
Confused glances and worried murmurs followed, but a small number of the thieves did, indeed, sit down.
“So few? A shame.”
Pierre grinned nastily. “I think you're done here, Vernadoe.”
“Yes. Yes, I suppose I am.”
She ducked suddenly behind the armored door as the Guards in the hall, who'd crept up on the armory while she'd held the Finders’ attentions, opened fire.
Opened fire over the heads of those few thieves who had been wise enough to heed the warnings of their priestess.
“You realize you just wasted your time and shed blood for nothing, right?” Although manacled and on his knees, the presence of so many of his brethren—equally restrained—had apparently reignited some of Laremy Privott's defiant streak. “Even if all this shit was legal without Commandant Archibeque's orders—”
And how did he know that, I wonder? Paschal mused, not really wondering at all.
“—the Church is going to crawl all the way up your asses and kick them from inside, for violating the laws of the Hallowed—”
Paschal cleared his throat and held out an open palm. One of his constables immediately slapped a coiled scroll into it. The major examined it, turned it around so Privott could see the seals of both House Luchene and the Church of the Hallowed Pact. Snapping them both with one thumb, Paschal flipped the scroll open—with, he would admit, a totally unnecessary flourish—and began to read.
“Whereas Beatrice Luchene, the Duchess Davillon, has executed her legal right under emergency powers and claimed full ducal jurisdiction over Davillon and its official entities, including the City Guard….” That last bit wasn't actually written; the major just wanted to make sure it was quite clear.
Ignoring the low muttering, he continued, “And whereas, in response to its actions in expelling its senior priesthood and turning from communal worship of the Shrouded God, His Eminence Sicard—in concert with a legal quorum of fourteen ordained priests—has declared the establishment known as the Finders’ Guild to no longer fall under the protections granted religious institutions of the Hallowed Pact—”
He didn't bother to read any further; nobody could have heard him over the roar of protesting disbelief, anyway.
“You can't do that!” Privott finally shouted when the noise level had subsided to only almost bone-breaking. “Not even the bishop has the authority to make that sort of declaration.”
It was not Paschal who answered, but Igraine Vernadoe, slipping out from behind the front rank to crouch before the flushed and sweating taskmaster. “It's a gray area,” she admitted. Then, with a broad smile, she added, “I'm quite certain you can appeal to the Church, just as soon as you're capable of getting a message to anyone in the upper echelons. It's even possible they'll agree with you, though I rather doubt it.
“But in any case, as the most senior clergyman currently accessible and a bishop in the ranks of the Mother Church, His Eminence's declaration stands as legitimate until and unless overturned.”
“You treasonous bitch!” he hissed, yanking futilely at his chains.
“Me?