Colin Tabor - The Fall of Ossard

Kurgar raised his eyebrows. “A very helpful Lae Velsanan, isn’t he! I suppose he also gave you their battle plan?”

Seig burst out laughing.

I kept quiet.

Kurgar joined the laughter, as did the cabalist.

I felt a fool.

Well, Sef had warned me…

Kurgar began afresh, “Perhaps this Lae Velsanan was trying to misinform you. If that’s the case, it would be safe to say that we should be doing the opposite of what he said.” His brow furrowed. “Did he suggest, for example, that you should work against the Reformers and instead support the Inquisition?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Predictable, isn’t it? He wants us to side with the one force in the city that wants us dead!”

I didn’t believe it, but realised I wasn’t going to change Kurgar’s mind. “But the kidnappings?”

“Are probably a trick of the Inquisition. After all, Inquisitor Anton didn’t lift a finger to help you when your family was taken from right in front of him.”

It seemed hopeless and the world too confused. “Felmaradis spoke of coming rituals, of magic that would eat up countless souls and…”

“Countless?”

“He said they’d want to open a gate, a celestial gate, and that eventually they’d need ten thousand and one souls to fuel it.”

Seig again burst out laughing while Kurgar and Mauricio joined in. Finally, the Guildmaster said, “Juvela, that’s an awful lot of power!”

I sat there in silence.

He added, “You know the Inquisitor has issued an order for your head?”

I nodded.

His voice softened, “Please, Juvela, I’m sorry for my harsh tone, but I’ve so many people depending on me that I just don’t have time to consider such a thing. The people of Newbank would never support it in any case.”

And that was true. “I understand.”

“Please, tell me how your hunt for your family is going?”

“I’ve had no more success.”

“Please, if you need anything, just ask.”

I whispered my thanks.

There was nothing left to discuss. The Guild had made its choices, just as the people of Newbank had. In the end, I said, “I have one last question.”

“Yes?”

“Did you discover who’s leading them; the new saints?”

He shook his head. “While it’s been difficult to identify their leadership, everything they’ve promised through their messengers has been honoured.”

I nodded, rose, and left.

On the way home, I stopped by to check on my parents.

We passed through streets growing busy, though thankfully our passage remained quick. From a distance their house seemed calm and orderly enough, standing silent with its windows shuttered. I had Kurt stop the coach and the others – except Sef – remain behind. This, I hoped, would be a short visit.

I entered the house expecting to be greeted by a maid, but none came. The hall spread about me dark and quiet, the room lost to shadow.

Everything seemed to be in order. The only thing unusual was the lack of light and the absence of anybody to greet me. I moved in deeper. That’s when I noticed that the door leading to the courtyard was open – the only source of light and also a faint breeze.

Soft murmurs sounded from outside. My steps quickened, and that’s where I found them.

My father sat on a bench with slumped shoulders and shadowed eyes, his gaze locked onto the rose garden, but I doubted he saw a single petal of its ash-dusted blooms. He was lost to us. Mother sat on another bench across from him also adrift in some trance of gloom. One maid sat with her, stroking Mother’s hair with one hand while the other held a cloth to her brow. The other maid knelt on the cobbles between them whispering hopeful nothings.

They hadn’t noticed my arrival.

“What’s happened?” I asked as I stepped into the courtyard with Sef.

The maids turned to show their pale and drawn faces, but neither of my parents responded.

The maid sitting with my mother said, “Lady Juvela, such tragedy! Your mother grew distant yesterday not long after you left, and then news came of a mob looting your father’s business. He went out there with a group of guildsmen, but they were too late. When he returned, he was so shattered, he could only join your mother in grief.”

She turned back to my mother to stroke her hair. I noticed she wasn’t just doing it to comfort her, she was also brushing ash away from where it landed to settle on her head.

I stepped closer. “Mother, Father, it’s me, Juvela. Are you well?”

The kneeling maid, her eyes red from tears, said, “They won’t talk, they haven’t since sunset yesterday.”

Father sat there turning something over and over in his hands. I knelt in front of him to see that it was the key to the business.

And then my mother whispered, “The child?”

Maria…

I turned. “I haven’t found her, I’m still looking.”

She whispered again, her voice unbearably tense, “The child, the poor child!” She sat stiffly, her fingers trembling as her tears began.

In the celestial, my grandmother walked about her trying to soothe her soul while she also wept. I could feel her guilt. She’d done this to her, to my mother, to her very own daughter, all those years ago as she’d been burnt to death.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find her. I’ll get both her and Pedro, I swear.”

And she mumbled on, “The child, the child!”

I went to her and took her into my arms.

She whispered again, “The child!”

Grandmother stroked her soul, massaging it, trying to get her to relax.

Mother calmed, yet still went on to repeat her mantra.

I smoothed her hair and wiped tears from her cheeks. Something was broken in there. Whether it was the chaos of the city, the kidnappings, or the loss of Maria – it had all been too much.

My mother pulled out of my embrace to settle back on the bench. She began to relax and go quiet, now composed again. Then, when I thought she’d found some kind of peace, she hissed, “The children, we must protect the children!” And her words saw us all grow tense.

My father looked to me and said, “It’s all gone, the shop and warehouse. It’s all gone. There’s nothing left.”

“Father, I’m so sorry to hear it.”

He shook his head. “And what other ill news could there be?”

“Father, the Inquisitor has put out an order for my arrest.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but he’s also named Heinz Kurgar.”

“Why can’t they just work together towards peace?”

“Father, I don’t think they want it.” And it was the first time I’d given voice to the truth.

He fell silent, making me regret speaking such news.

I asked the maids to pack for them, and to have them ready for travel. I said we’d be back to collect them when we left the city, and that they were also welcome to join us.

The ride home began in silence. Marco, Baruna, and the others read enough in my face to not ask any too many questions, but Sef had other ideas. “Juvela, we could send some people around to watch over them, perhaps to make sure that they’re ready to leave?”

I considered it and decided the suggestion had merit. “Do it, it’ll be the only way we can make sure that they’re ready to go. We can have a few people stay there, but not in the house, just the stores and stables.”

Sef nodded.

On the short ride home I worked at trying to forget what I’d seen. That was when something new grabbed my attention; a familiar face on the street. The man was only in view for a moment, but it was long enough.

I knew him…

He wore a hooded robe, yet I knew that strong jaw and those cold eyes. It was the cultist who’d stolen the red-headed boy prior to my coming of age, and then later sacrificed him while I lay under Pedro being deflowered.