Tom Lloyd: The Dusk Watchman

‘News, your Majesty,’ he started, ‘from the Byoran prisoners.’

‘Speak it then.’

Doranei hesitated, in case he’d misheard or misunderstood, but he knew it wasn’t so. ‘You’ll want to hear it yourself, but I think we judged it wrong in Byora,’ he said. ‘The child, Ruhen, isn’t a vessel or tool; he’s the one giving orders. Ilumene jumps on his command — the command of a child with shadows in his eyes.’

There was a cold silence, every remaining member of the Brotherhood digesting the information as they remembered their failed assault on Byora’s Ruby Tower.

‘Azaer has taken mortal form,’ King Emin said at last. ‘A mortal body, an immortal soul — but why?’

‘The greatest magic always involves sacrifice,’ Isak said abruptly, looking up from the fire at last, ‘the change from life to death.’

‘And the potential for catastrophe,’ the witch added. ‘Azaer does not intend some basic working of magic, but something to unpick the fabric of the Land so it can weave the tapestry anew. Even the Gods are weakened by grand undertakings; whatever power the shadow can bring to bear, it must risk everything in the act.’

She pointed to Isak who flinched slightly at the gesture. ‘Isak knew he would die at the Menin’s hands, their destinies had been entwined long before he was Chosen by Nartis. He would never have managed what he did yesterday without first gambling all he had.’

‘And now Azaer gambles,’ Emin finished, an edge of hunger in his voice. ‘Now the shadow has allowed itself to be vulnerable. If we can choose the time of its passing rather than allowing it to do so, we might yet win this war.’

‘Speaking of gambles,’ broke in a young devotee of the Lady called Shanas standing nearby, a woman barely old enough to be part of this fight, ‘Legana says it’s time to raise the stakes in Vesna’s own effort.’

All eyes turned to Shanas, then to Legana who beamed unexpectedly at the assembled men. With a surprised cough Shanas continued, ‘Ahem, she also wants to say you all look fucking stupid with your mouths open — she’s part-Goddess! Are you surprised she can speak into a devotee’s mind?’

Emin’s laugh broke the hush. ‘A fair comment. But what’s this about Vesna?’

The big Farlan soldier stepped forward. He matched the strangeness of emerald-eyed Legana with a ruby teardrop on his cheek and his left arm permanently encased in black-iron armour.

‘I think she’s talking about the Ghosts,’ he explained. ‘Life back home in Tirah remains fraught, but I knew there was a greater fight coming. Lord Fernal was forced by his nobles to sign a peace treaty with the Menin, so to pursue the war further, the officers of the Ghosts took holy orders so that they would have to be released from their military positions or prosecuted. Following the assassination of Karkarn’s priests in the city, presumably to weaken the God’s powerbase in advance of a challenge by the Menin lord, the soldiers of the Ghosts were only too willing to join us.’

‘You have an army of ordained priests?’ Emin replied, doing his best not to look surprised. ‘All dedicated to the God of War?’

‘A third of the Ghosts,’ Vesna said quickly. ‘The rest are priests of Death or Nartis, so as not to unbalance the Upper Circle of the Pantheon. General Lahk and I reasoned that it would at least buy us time to halt the Menin’s plans.’

Emin turned back to Legana and Shanas. ‘So where do you fit in here, Legana? One Mortal-Aspect helping out another?’

‘Something like that,’ Shanas said, looking nervous as she voiced Legana’s words. ‘They are no longer the Palace Guard of Tirah, but they still call themselves Ghosts.’ The Farlan soldiers in attendance nodded at that and Legana, her green eyes flashing with divine mischief, patted Mihn on the head as though the failed Harlequin was a dog. ‘A precedent has been set: a man bound to service even as he was imbued with powers.’

Legana gestured towards all those present, picking out specific groups in turn while Shanas continued, ‘Those who live in the shadows’ — Legana jabbed a thumb back at Doranei — ‘these dark soldiers’ — as Torl’s Brethren of the Sacred Teachings were indicated — ‘these steel-clad ghosts’. Legana’s gaze fell on Vesna and General Lahk as the leaders of the Palace Guard.

The unnaturally beautiful woman kept her eyes on those two while she jerked the blanket from Mihn’s bare shoulders and turned his palms upwards so all present could see the owl tattoos there.

‘Those who choose to serve, let them be as ghosts,’ Shanas repeated for Legana, louder than before. ‘Let their skin be marked with silence and service. It is time to take this war to the shadow.’

King Emin wasted no time. The entire company was ordered to sit, the order rippling back through the ranks outside, and Doranei found a place at his king’s side, placing himself between Emin and the white-eye, General Daken. Morghien sat grumbling on Emin’s other side, while behind him the ranger Tiniq crouched in the shade of the king’s war standard and squinted down at the churned ground below.

Daken’s grin was barely visible behind the swelling and split lips, but the man still managed to express his amusement at the whole proceeding. Doranei tried to forget the bet Daken had won against the Brotherhood, instead looking at the assembled soldiers and trying to estimate how many they were.

The Farlan had been least hurt during the battle, arriving late to catch the Menin unawares, but anyone meeting the grief-maddened Menin heavy infantry had taken losses. He guessed one and a half thousand remained in total; the double-legion of the Ghosts wouldn’t have been quite at full strength, not after the major engagements of the last year, and some had to have remained to man the walls of Tirah Palace. Veil was nearby, looking exhausted, but in less pain now. He gave his Brother a prod with his boot and was rewarded by an obscene gesture with Veil’s remaining hand.

‘You two, swap places,’ said the witch, Ehla, as she assessed the crowd of soldiers. Doranei looked up and realised she was pointing to him and Daken. The white-eye heaved himself up and Doranei reluctantly let him take his place at King Emin’s side.

‘Want the best up front, eh?’ Daken wheezed as he thumped heavily down onto his backside, tipping backwards until Veil shoved him upright again with his boot.

‘Not quite — the last thing we need is that bitch on your chest getting involved and marking any more soldiers.’

Daken lifted his shirt as best he could, exposing part of his tattoo of Litania the Trickster. For once, the blue lines on his skin were perfectly still. ‘Don’t you worry about that. Like most women lyin’ on my chest she’s all tired out. She won’t be movin’ any time soon.’

‘Perhaps,’ the witch said dismissively, ‘but I prefer not to trust her. The power will flow outwards from Mihn. With Doranei as a buffer there she’ll not let herself be carried on it into him.’

‘Why? The boy smells, but so do most’ve us.’

Her eyes narrowed on Doranei. ‘It’s who he smells of Litania will be wary of — yes boy, her. There’s a perfume on the wind that isn’t coming from the Farlan nobles.’

Doranei looked away from them both and the witch moved on, raising her voice so she could be heard by all.

‘All of you — put your palm against the chest of the man behind you, over his heart. You must all be linked; you must all choose to give yourself to this service.’

Doranei felt Daken’s meaty paw thump him on the chest, almost knocking him backwards, and he grabbed it with his left hand and held it over his sternum, where he knew the heart rune had been burned into Mihn’s and Isak’s flesh. Reaching back he felt Veil push forward against his hand and all around them men and women copied them, or followed the king’s example and reached out with both arms.