- just as the charges upon which Count Feers was arrested are tyrannical, and against the will of the Gods.’
‘But they are still the law,’ Vesna answered, ‘so you’ll step aside and allow the Palace Guard to do their duty.’
‘Under whose authority?’
‘That of Lord Fernal.’
The man spat. ‘The creature Fernal bears no authority. It has no right to claim rule over the noblest tribe of man.’
‘That is a matter for your betters to decide,’ Vesna said, nudging his horse forward while signalling for his troops to remain. ‘The law on holy orders remains, however, and Count Feers has broken it; he must answer for his crimes at the Temple of Law.’
‘Count Feers is guilty of nothing but proclaiming the majesty of the Gods and their authority over all,’ the soldier roared.
‘Then the Gods will see to it he is acquitted,’ Vesna said. ‘Until then he is under arrest.’
‘You may not have him, nor may your lackeys!’ the nobleman screamed, pointing towards the gate. ‘We serve the Gods. We will die to protect their majesty.’
Vesna stopped. Clearly there was something he did not yet know about the situation. ‘Who is outside the gate?’ he asked.
‘The heretics you sent to murder priests, the criminals who wish to plunder the temples and steal rule of the tribe from those the Gods intended,’ he snarled.
Vesna scratched his cheek, where the ruby in his skin was suddenly itching fiercely.
‘Kill them all,’ whispered Karkarn in his ear. ‘There is no place for madmen and fools in this Land.’
Vesna instinctively shook his head at the sudden intrusion, as though he could dislodge the God from it, and his hand twitched towards his sword before he could catch himself.
The nobleman saw the movement and took a step back to plant his feet more firmly. He gripped his sword.
Enough of your help, Vesna thought as he drove the War God from his thoughts. This must end without bloodshed, otherwise it will lead to civil war.
Carefully, deliberately he withdrew his hand, and when the nobleman had relaxed a touch Vesna dismounted. A man on horseback had a clear advantage in battle - whether they would admit it or not, Vesna knew the veterans would see it as a pacifying action. He removed his helm so they would be able to see the ruby on his cheek more clearly and walked towards them, not deviating when they turned aside and opened up the path towards the guardhouse.
The penitents standing ready at the door retreated when he reached them. Vesna could feel the eyes of everyone in the market on him, watching every small movement, waiting for the action that would spark the violence.
He thumped on the guardhouse door and called out, ‘Sergeant? Is all well in there?’
He could hear the scuffle of feet inside, then the sound of boots on a ladder before the reply eventually came. ‘Aye, sir, we’re not harmed.’
‘Then open the door please, and bring your prisoner out.’
‘Ah, beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but who’s givin’ the order?’
‘Count Vesna, acting under the authority of Lord Fernal.’
Using Fernal’s disputed title seemed to do the trick. He heard the screech of heavy iron bolts being drawn back, and something heavy being dragged from the reinforced oak door. It opened cautiously, just enough to catch sight of the man outside, but Vesna’s armour alone was unmistakable to any man of the Ghosts. Quickly the door opened all the way to reveal the grim faces of a dozen Palace Guards, dressed in full battle armour. Behind them was the whiskered face of Count Feers, purple with outrage as he barged towards Vesna.
‘You of all men come to accuse me? Murderer, adulterer, hypocrite — ’
Vesna raised a cautioning hand. ‘Think very carefully about your next words, Count Feers. Tensions are running high and there are already serious charges against you. If you incite others to violence against the Ghosts . . . well, I doubt you need much convincing as to the Chief Steward’s vindictive nature. He would extend any punishment laid down upon you to every member of your family.’
The threat had the desired effect; Lesarl’s reputation among the nobility was well deserved. However deep his fanaticism, Feers had a large family and it was a fair bet at least one of them meant something to him. It took a few heartbeats, but then the count’s shoulders sagged and he capitulated, allowing the Ghosts to lead him out without further resistance.
‘Ah, my lord?’ one of the soldiers still in the guardroom piped up.