David Mcintee - The Light of Heaven

"Good enough."

Guards were patrolling everywhere beyond the gateway, while civilians were hard at work, fetching and carrying.

The Glass Mountain rose from what Gabriella could imagine as the palm of a hand made of mountains; five towering peaks surrounded the Glass Mountain in a semicircle to the south and east. Wide terraces were cut into the lower slopes of these mountains. The terraces were clearly ancient and edged with walls formed from the living rock. The vertical faces were all intricately carved with monstrous bas-reliefs, while huge triangular doorways gazed blackly at each other across the valley.

Markets had been set up on the lowermost terraces along with gardens. A little higher, tents and yurts housed people. Dancers were performing on several terraces, while food and drink were consumed on others.

Surrounded by the five other peaks, the Glass Mountain itself was even more impressive. She looked up, beyond the terraces and towards the clouds.

"Lord preserve us."

The mountain paled as it stretched above, white and semi-translucent in places and Gabriella pulled her cloak around herself almost instinctively. She shivered, an unconscious act that had nothing to do with the temperature. The mountain simply shone.

Terraces were cut into every side of its lower slopes and crystalline staircases swept up and down its frosted surfaces, connecting different levels. Gabriella was astounded, but Crowe seemed to be utterly dumbstruck.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Gabriella asked him.

"Dez, we have to get out of here now. And we have to get everyone else here as far away as we possibly can."

"Is this to do with the Isle of the Star?"

"Yes." There was a tremble to his voice. "We should never have come here."

She thought long and hard. Perhaps this was the time she had been waiting for. Perhaps it was time to push him where he needed to go. She dismounted, and held out a hand to help him to do the same. They walked their horses to a hitching post and Gabriella looked around for some place private. There was a makeshift soup kitchen on a nearby terrace and she led him to it. They bought stew and bread and sat on upturned barrels as far as possible from any eavesdroppers.

"You didn't have to come here. You could have left a hundred times since the meeting with Sandor Feyn."

"Maybe I've got a crush on you."

She shook her head. "I'd see that in your eyes and I don't."

Crowe hesitated. "Dez… You may have noticed that I've got no love for the Faith."

"I noticed, yes. I'm sure there must be a cure."

"Heh. One thing to remember is that I've no love for the Brotherhood either. They got a lot of good men killed on the Belle and they've made a lot of people's lives a misery."

"The Brotherhood is very good at that."

"So is the Faith, lass. So is the Faith."

"The Faith doesn't cause misery. It fights it."

Crowe fidgeted. "Some of you do, all right?" He paused. "Somehow, what happened on the Isle and what's happening here — hell, what's happened in my whole life the past few bloody years — is tied up with the Brotherhood and with the Faith. I owe the Brotherhood, probably more than I owe the Faith."

"Owe them what?"

"I owe them for Margrave and the Belle . Hell, I even owe them that for the men I killed on the Vigilant ."

"It's rare for someone to hate the Faith and the Brotherhood so… equally."

"Really? Then I guess I'm not as common a man as my manner probably suggests."

"Oh, no, don't worry about that." Gabriella reassured him. "You are."

"Nice one, God-girl."

"I dread to think who's footsteps you follow in. Maybe your father's"

"He was a priest in the Brotherhood." Crowe scowled, clearly unhappy with the direction the conversation was taking. "If he was still alive, I'm sure he'd disown me. You're probably taught all sorts of propaganda about what the Brotherhood is like, Dez. I bet it's all vile and full of tales about misogynistic brutes who like to see themselves as the Lord's favourites."

"Some of it."

"Most of the Brotherhood brothers I've met are no different than most of your comrades I've met and, going by some of Makennon's exploits, they might have a point in their opposition to the Faith."

Gabriella felt the anger rise within her. "The Anointed Lord is a great woman!"

"You may say that, and it might even be true, but I can't really be the judge of it. Sometimes the misogynistic brute image of the Brotherhood is true, though. Enough times to — Well, when it's your father, the once is enough."

Whatever was crouching in his memories, slowly poisoning him, was surely about to show itself here.

"My father saw my mother as nothing more than breeding stock. He wanted to have sons for the Brotherhood." He paused. "Do they tell you that at your Faith seminary? The Brotherhood have a Pledge too, but theirs is to have at least one son , not exactly one child. I was the first, of course, and Dad was delighted. Then they had a daughter and Dad wasn't the least bit interested. He wanted more sons, who'd grow up to be Brothers. My mother wasn't having any of it and she liked to go to the Faith church, because there were women there and there had been female Anointed Lords."

"Your father didn't like that?"

"He didn't know about her going to the Faith church. He'd probably have killed her for it. But he didn't like having a daughter instead of another son. He used to beat my mother and finally managed to do it to the degree that she couldn't have any more children."

Gabriella shivered, not sure she wanted to hear the rest of the tale. She knew it wasn't going to have a happy ending. Then again, if listening helped get Crowe on good terms with the Lord of All and the Final Faith, then it was a worthy act.

"So, he knew he wasn't going to be bringing up any more little Brothers. As far as he was concerned that meant mum was no more use to him. Neither was his daughter, so he sacrificed her for the cause." He paused, catching Gabriella's expression. "Not literally, love. He gave her up to some bloke who's wife was barren. And that bloke beat her to death in a drunken stupor because she wouldn't stay quiet enough for his liking. She was about fourteen — " His voice gave out and he took a deep swallow, blinking away the tears.

"Only fourteen years old," Gabriella echoed, aghast. "I… Don't know what to say, Crowe."

He shook the tears from his eyes. "No. Not years. Fourteen months. Fourteen months old. She'd barely even had time to learn to recognise her own name."

"Anyway, that was the last straw for my mother. She spoke to someone at the church. A Confessor, I suppose. She shopped my father for being a priest in the Brotherhood, and you can guess what happened next." Gabriella nodded. "The Swords paid a visit and took him away for morality crimes."

"They cleansed him." She wasn't asking a question; it was the standard fate for priests of the Brotherhood. The price they paid for twisting the religion of the Lord Of All.

"Yeah, Dez, and they burned him and all. And I can't say he didn't have it coming." He shrugged. "That's not what I've got against the Faith. Dad made out that my mother had done more to hide his affiliations than she had. And the Confessors believed it and they burned her in another gibbet right next to him. That was her reward from the Final Faith."

Gabriella looked at the ground between her feet. She didn't want to meet his eyes until she knew what she could say to him. She certainly didn't want him to see the emotions that were going across her face right now.

"Like I said, the Lord might be all powerful, but the people in the Faith? They screw things up just as much as the rest of us. Only they're in a position to do more damage to the rest of us with those mistakes."