Colin Tabor - The Fall of Ossard

I said, “Not at the warehouse, but at Market Square. I think Maria and the others are being held in a cellar, perhaps in the old opera house.”

His face lit up. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure they’re in the area, but not so certain where. It doesn’t matter, we’ll find them.”

His relief faded as his eyes filled with concern. “You can’t go back, it’s too dangerous!” he hesitated, but then continued in a softer tone, “Juvela, there’ve been some burnings.”

“I know, but I have to go.”

He sighed, but gave in for the moment. “How did you get back?”

I told him and then asked of happenings in Newbank.

“Things are bad, but we’ve managed. Kurgar wants to try and negotiate with the Inquisitor, but there’s so much anger outside. I think it’s too late, already too much blood’s been spilt. We know of sixty deaths in Newbank, and there are still thousands of Flets trapped on the river’s other side. We hope they’re alright, but the fires are spreading, and with them the violence.”

A guildsman called to us.

My father turned and nodded. “Come, we can go in.”

We entered Kurgar’s office, but he wasn’t alone. Several guildsmen sat and stood about his desk, and back against the wood-panelled walls. To either side of him also stood two other men. One of them wore robes of blue and a string of amulets. I could feel their power. The grey bearded Heletian looked to me with curiosity, his bald head beaded in sweat.

A mind-voice whispered, “Welcome.”

The other man stood as a warrior cut from the same mould as Sef, he openly wearing the sword-in-circle of Kave. Upon seeing him, Sef bowed, suddenly full of an embarrassed reverence. The man carried a good deal of energy both in his physical presence and in the celestial. He nodded to me in greeting.

The mind voice whispered again, “That is Seig Manheim, Ossard’s most senior priest of Kave. I am Mauricio Ciero, the most senior Cabalist.”

Kurgar stood and gestured for us to sit in the chairs before his desk. We took them.

“Juvela, how are you?”

I supposed he meant after the kidnapping of my family. “Well enough.”

He didn’t believe me, but he couldn’t know of the changes wrought in me. “Your father says that it was your idea to close the bridge and seal the district?”

“Yes.”

“It was a good idea. It seems that the Inquisitor had ordered his men to torch this building and then as much of Newbank as they could. Many would have died. We owe you our thanks.”

“I’m just glad to have helped.”

He nodded. “And you’ve been looking for your husband and daughter?”

“Yes, and I think I’ve found them.”

Surprised, he asked, “Really?”

“They’re being kept just off Market Square.”

“Market Square?”

“I believe they’re in a cellar, perhaps of the old opera house.”

He considered my answer. “That’s possible, the building hasn’t been used in seasons.”

“We couldn’t stay because of the crowds, but I’m going back tonight.”

My father added, “We were talking about it.”

Kurgar asked, “By yourself?”

Sef said, “I’ll help, and take some of my brethren.”

Kurgar nodded and then leaned back. He spread his hands on the desk in front of him. “The city…” He shook his head. “The city is in a terrible state. There’s fighting in many places, and it’s aimed at all parties. It’s more like there are three cities, and we’ve each elected to go to war with each other. The Inquisition controls the north and centre, we have some of the east and Newbank, and the followers of the new saints have claimed the port and the south. It’s lunacy.”

“How much of the east do we have?” I asked.

“Only what’s still to burn. Thousands of our people are stranded over there, but I doubt we’ll hold it by sunrise.”

Sef shifted uncomfortably as did Seig Manheim.

“Can we do anything?” I asked.

He shrugged. “What can we do without stoking the hatred that’s already burning? If we send an armed force across the river, it’s an escalation. So far most of the violence has been by angry mobs, but if we’re seen putting militia into action, we might end up fighting whatever’s left of the city guard and the Inquisition’s own forces.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “But if we don’t our people on the other side of the Cassaro will perish!”

He sighed. “I know, but hear me out. I‘ve been trying to work another solution: I’ve sent a message to whoever leads the new saints, asking for their help in establishing a truce.”

I was appalled. “No!”

Kurgar took great care with his next words, them coming out oiled and smooth, “I understand your anger, but let me explain.”

I sat in silence – he could have his chance.

“I’ve considered events, and wonder if this is an opportunity.”

My father growled, “An opportunity!”

Kurgar waved him down. “Yes, an opportunity! Listen, the Inquisition has been in control for a day, and already they’ve tried to outlaw the institutions that have run Ossard for years. They can’t do it. We still exist despite their proclamation. They’re playing games, delusional and dangerous games. I’m more interested in what’s real…”

My father interrupted, “Like the hundreds or thousands of our kinfolk stranded across the river?”

Kurgar clenched a fist and pounded his desk. “Hundreds or thousands, what rubbish! The true figure is closer to ten thousand, and maybe half of them are already dead!”

Gasps sounded from around the room.

He went on, “We can’t deny the possibility. We’ve no accurate number for how many of our kin live over there, the Guild stopped counting years ago, but we can see the flames. If we’re already taking losses in Newbank from city-side archers, as we are, I don’t hold out much hope for any of our people unprotected and alone over there.”

Appalled, I whispered, “You’re giving them up!”

He shook his head and growled, “Let me finish! The Inquisitor and Benefice have used the kidnappings as an opportunity to take control, but we can’t let them succeed. We know what’ll happen if they do; at best they’ll dump us destitute across the sea in ravaged Fletland, and at worst they’ll try and finish the job the Lae Velsanans started two centuries ago!”

Silence greeted his words, for we all feared that they held truth.

He went on, “And you’re right to worry about this other faction. It’s chaotic out there, and their new saints dubious, but might they be open minded enough to accept us for who we are? If they’re prepared to defy the Inquisition and turn their backs on the Church’s dogma, might they also understand how those same limits restrain our own beliefs? All they want is freedom to worship, so why would it be such a leap for them to understand our own wish to follow our own faiths?

“Think of it; the temples of our gods built in the streets, no more hidden chapels, whispered hymns, and clandestine gatherings.

“This terrible moment in Ossard’s history could become everything we’ve ever wanted. We might even win the right for the Cabal to walk openly!

“Let’s see what the followers of the new saints want; at worst it might be the same as the Inquisition, but it could be so much better. If we can work together in an alliance of mutual respect and benefit, perhaps we can create a new Ossard, one that finally accepts our people.”

The cabalist and priest beside him both stood lost in the promise of the idea. No doubt the thought of being able to walk openly in the streets, or of building real and visible temples sounded grand, but what of the darker side?