Forge of Darkness (The Kharkanas Trilogy 1)

The High Priestess was approaching, and behind her in the corridor walked Serap, Yeld, and Haradegar. With their pallid visages, they made an uncanny procession. Behind them all, white light spilled and roiled like smoke, drawing closer.

‘I will go,’ Sharenas said a second time, pushing herself forward. She reached out and grasped Kagamandra’s sleeve, pulling him with her as she set out for the front door.

‘Yes,’ said Urusander behind them, ‘best to flee, my friends. I cannot stop her.’

Sharenas cursed under her breath. In this light, even justice will burn.

Dead?

Ilgast Rend sat behind the desk, frozen, like a man nailed to his chair. He stared across at the dishevelled messenger with the red-rimmed eyes. Panicked thoughts flitted through him. Send a rider to Commander Calat Hustain. Recall him. The Vitr will have to wait. We now have war.

But I cannot wait. The soldier in me cries out. Urusander is still weak. His companies are scattered across the realm. He hides in Neret Sorr and deems it a distant island in rough seas. I have the Wardens in readiness, and here I am like a hound-master holding a thousand leashes. I swore to do nothing, but that vow — foolish old man! That vow was made in a time of peace.

Highborn blood had been spilled. Innocents had been slaughtered.

Urusander, you pushed too far. But I see you in your keep, enthroned, and all the crows in your company chatter and caw until you are deafened, and the flapping wings blind you and the rush of air is sweet blessing against your face, and you think this the measure of the world.

Will we await your next move?

I think not. He struggled to control his breathing, and cleared his throat, twice, before speaking to the messenger. ‘I trust Lord Anomander has assembled his Houseblades. I trust the other Greater Houses are stirred to arms.’

‘Milord,’ said the messenger, ‘there were slain Deniers at the scene-’

Ilgast Rend snorted and rose suddenly. ‘We are to believe the rabbit showed teeth? The crassness of such deception delivers a mocking insult. No, we are not even meant to be fooled. Urusander’s Legion has struck — I saw as much in Hunn Raal’s eyes, when in argument he bludgeoned with threat and indignation in equal measure. He invites confusion, but does so with contempt.’

‘Your orders to me, milord?’

‘Rest, and then take three horses and ride to Calat Hustain in the Glimmer Fate.’

‘Best I not rest, milord,’ said the young man.

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The High Priestess was approaching, and behind her in the corridor walked Serap, Yeld, and Haradegar. With their pallid visages, they made an uncanny procession. Behind them all, white light spilled and roiled like smoke, drawing closer.

‘I will go,’ Sharenas said a second time, pushing herself forward. She reached out and grasped Kagamandra’s sleeve, pulling him with her as she set out for the front door.

‘Yes,’ said Urusander behind them, ‘best to flee, my friends. I cannot stop her.’

Sharenas cursed under her breath. In this light, even justice will burn.

Dead?

Ilgast Rend sat behind the desk, frozen, like a man nailed to his chair. He stared across at the dishevelled messenger with the red-rimmed eyes. Panicked thoughts flitted through him. Send a rider to Commander Calat Hustain. Recall him. The Vitr will have to wait. We now have war.

But I cannot wait. The soldier in me cries out. Urusander is still weak. His companies are scattered across the realm. He hides in Neret Sorr and deems it a distant island in rough seas. I have the Wardens in readiness, and here I am like a hound-master holding a thousand leashes. I swore to do nothing, but that vow — foolish old man! That vow was made in a time of peace.

Highborn blood had been spilled. Innocents had been slaughtered.

Urusander, you pushed too far. But I see you in your keep, enthroned, and all the crows in your company chatter and caw until you are deafened, and the flapping wings blind you and the rush of air is sweet blessing against your face, and you think this the measure of the world.

Will we await your next move?

I think not. He struggled to control his breathing, and cleared his throat, twice, before speaking to the messenger. ‘I trust Lord Anomander has assembled his Houseblades. I trust the other Greater Houses are stirred to arms.’

‘Milord,’ said the messenger, ‘there were slain Deniers at the scene-’

Ilgast Rend snorted and rose suddenly. ‘We are to believe the rabbit showed teeth? The crassness of such deception delivers a mocking insult. No, we are not even meant to be fooled. Urusander’s Legion has struck — I saw as much in Hunn Raal’s eyes, when in argument he bludgeoned with threat and indignation in equal measure. He invites confusion, but does so with contempt.’

‘Your orders to me, milord?’

‘Rest, and then take three horses and ride to Calat Hustain in the Glimmer Fate.’

‘Best I not rest, milord,’ said the young man.

‘You are exhausted.’

‘This news is urgent. Perhaps another rider in my stead?’

‘Rest. I would not have this tale become blurred beneath too many layers of varnish. Calat will hear from you what I have heard. But add this: I lead the Wardens to Neret Sorr. I intend to attack Lord Urusander while his forces remain scattered. I intend to cut out the heart of this rebellion.’

The man’s face was grey, but he saluted.

‘Send in my captains,’ Ilgast Rend said to the man as he made to depart.

‘At once, milord.’

Ilgast Rend sat once more. He settled his hands upon the flat, worn surface of the desk. The soldier in me sees clearly. He expects us to wallow in our grief, to stand unmoving in our shock. This was calculated to make us reel in disbelief.

He began to suspect the complicity of the Shake — Skelenal and Sheccanto could not be pleased at the resurrection of their long-dead river god. How many Deniers even recognized the religious authority of the monasteries?

They have done nothing to prevent the slaughter of the Deniers, have they?

The tramp of boots approached along the corridor outside the room. Ilgast Rend drew a deep breath. He folded his hands together on the desktop. To still their trembling.

With a third of their journey to Yan Monastery ahead of them, Finarra Stone and Faror Hend came upon the first mass of refugees. Their state shocked Faror, and she followed her captain when Finarra led her horse and second mount off the track. They reined in to watch the hundred or so broken figures shamble past.

‘Where are they going, sir?’

‘East, as you can well see.’

‘There is nothing out there,’ Faror objected. ‘Except for this season’s headquarters, and that is but a modest fort of bound grasses and salvaged wood.’

‘Just so,’ Finarra said. ‘Ilgast Rend is about to face a nightmare in logistics.’

Disbelieving, Faror Hend shook her head. ‘Sir, we do not have enough food. Or shelter. And the winter on the Glimmer Fate-’

‘I am aware of all of that, Warden.’

‘Yes sir. Your pardon.’