‘The service I ask is great. They must be rewarded for their losses. The price is forgiveness, long overdue absolution.’
The voice became no louder, but Doranei felt it press all the harder on his eardrums, an intensity born of outrage. ‘You presume too much.’
‘As is my lot,’ Isak said, the weight of the Land in his voice. ‘This Land shall be made anew, the cruelties of the past left behind.’
Doranei crept closer. Now he could see the door at the end of the corridor was ajar, a faint blue light spilling around its edges and outlining a dark figure. Though he was unable to make out any detail, Doranei still felt terrified, and the air grew thick and heavy around him.
‘Some crimes haunt you still,’ the figure said with cold derision.
Its face was hidden, but Doranei felt the force of its presence like the looming bulk of Blackfang, and for a moment he was sure the figure’s words were directed at him, rather than Isak.
‘There is a scent of vampire about these halls. Are you so sure of those around you?’ the figure asked, and Doranei flinched, an icy ball of dread filling his stomach.
He backed off down the corridor and wasted no time in fleeing silently to the furthest corner of the castle, the panicked thump of his heart pounding in his ears.
Knight-Cardinal Certinse looked up from the pile of papers on his desk. The night was well advanced and his head was pounding. The hot summer’s day had left his study stuffy and malodorous; the bunches of fragrant lavender and pepper grass hung over the door and windows had done more to add to the heavy atmosphere than relieve it.
His eyes drifted to the door that led to his bedroom; the thought of sleep was enticing, especially compared with tallies of import taxes. Certinse stood, reaching for the candlestick on his desk, but he was stopped by a muffled commotion from somewhere downstairs.
‘What now?’ he wearily asked the empty room. ‘I’m too tired for another late-night chat with High Priest Garash.’
Abruptly the door opened and Captain Perforren entered, a worried expression on his face. ‘My apologies, Knight-Cardinal, but a visitor has just arrived.’
‘A visitor? There are still Menin soldiers outside the house, aren’t there?’
‘And men of the Devout Congress inside the door,’ his aide added. ‘They, ah, they didn’t manage to stop your visitor. I think he has them confused.’
‘Explain quickly,’ Certinse said, hearing boots on the stair.
‘He arrived with one of the Jesters! The soldiers don’t know what to do; he’s a Demi-God, after all.’
Certinse managed a smile at last. ‘That’ll confuse the bastards sure enough. Is the visitor Luerce?’
‘Nope,’ said a deep voice from the corridor, ‘no one so special.’ A tall man entered. A white patchwork cloak didn’t do much to disguise his powerful frame. He wore a sword at his hip and held a dagger in his left hand. Certinse blinked a moment before recognising the man, Duchess Escral’s bodyguard, Kayel.
‘A little late for a social call, isn’t it, Sergeant Kayel?’
Kayel raised his right hand, in which was a glass bottle of brandy. ‘Never too late for a drink between friends.’
Certinse regarded him for a moment, his face blank, before gesturing for Perforren to leave. ‘Your young prince is still looking to be friends then?’
Kayel watched Perforren shut the door behind himself before heading for the glasses on a side-table. He poured a large measure of brandy into each wide-bottomed glass and handed one to the Knight-Cardinal.
He raised his glass in a toast. ‘Ruhen stands for peace in this Land,’ Kayel said gravely. ‘Friends is all he’s looking for.’
‘Tell that to the priests plaguing me,’ Certinse muttered, showing the sergeant to one of the chairs at the far side of the room, set on either side of the empty fireplace. ‘I’m amazed some of those fools preaching in Akell got out again without being lynched. Ruhen may have his admirers here, but they’re keeping their heads down.’
‘Who can blame ’em? It’s better than getting ’em chopped off.’ Ilumene took a big gulp of brandy. ‘Speakin’ of your priests, I thought I’d come see how that situation was workin’ out.’
Certinse gave him a sour look. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’
‘You see me laughin’? It’s my concern when Ruhen’s Children ain’t allowed to spread their beliefs, when they get strung up for the heresy of criticisin’ priests. An’ I