Fifth moon, first year of the reign of King Corvus
Grand temple square, First Circle, Rilporin, Wheat Lands
The square was filled to capacity – Raiders, Easterners and as many slaves as could fit thronged outside the grand temple. It was a charnel pit now, the Light washed away in sacrificial blood, and Tara couldn’t look into its gaping, stinking maw. She followed Valan – her master, her owner these last ten days – through the crowd and then paused at the edge as he moved to stand beside Corvus and the Blessed One.
‘Rilporin is ours,’ Corvus suddenly shouted, and the crowd fell into rapturous silence. ‘Ours, though it has cost us more than we ever knew to pay. And though we all grieve, there is much still to do. Know now that all is not lost. While many of our enemies fled to Listre, the bulk of this city’s inhabitants and its defenders now belong to us, prevented from fleeing through the King Gate like the cowards they are by our brave allies in the East Rank. They will serve us as slaves and consorts until our own can be brought down from the mountains. The rewards of holy war.’
Tara glanced around; either Corvus’s calculations were wildly inaccurate or he couldn’t count. From what she could see, only about a third of Rilporin’s citizens remained, though the captured Rankers weren’t present. She hadn’t seen them once since Valan had bought her, had no idea where they were being held. She was unwilling to risk taking out Corvus and Lanta until she knew whether or not she could free them.
Soon, she promised them in the silence of her skull. Trust me and stay alive. I’m coming.
The Blessed One held up her arms. ‘Our next steps are decided. The East Rank will be sent to the main towns and cities of Rilpor to bring them under our control. Their first act will be to secure a tithe of food and goods suitable to our status as their overlords.’
Tara grunted in reluctant agreement, the sound lost among the rustle of approval. Sending Rankers was less contentious than a band of ravening Mireces descending on the towns. The Rankers would initiate martial law and enforce it ruthlessly, but without unnecessary bloodshed.
‘The rest of us will remain in Rilporin, to see it restored and its walls rebuilt against the threat of further assault. And we of the true faith, who have walked the Dark Path in gladness and in glory all our lives, have another task: to practise the blood magic of faith and search for our Bloody Mother.’
What?
Lanta indicated the stains on her arms and face, the black swirls that, if the rumours were true, were the Dark Lady’s very blood decorating her flesh. ‘My faith told me to do this, my connection to the gods and Their realm, my understanding of Their needs all guided me. I am guided still. I have not moved from this square and newly dedicated temple since I begged our Red Father to come for vengeance. Even when He stalked this damned place I did not move. I have lain here and I have searched – my soul, the world, the veil and past it, the Waystation. I have been to the limits of the Afterworld itself,’ she said and there was a ripple of awe.
‘And do you know what I have learnt?’ Lanta suddenly screeched. ‘Our Bloody Mother is not gone. Not forever.’
Tara gaped. Not gone? What the fuck do you mean, not gone?
‘I can bring Her back.’
For one long, clanging second, the square was silent, awestruck, and then it erupted, a seething mass of joy and denial.
Tara stood immobile against the jostling of the mob. Is this what you really sent me here for, Fox God? Killing a king and a lunatic priestess I can handle. Preventing the goddess of death from returning may be outside my skill set.
A manic giggle threatened and she swallowed it down as Lanta gestured the audience was over and Valan pulled at her arm, led her back through the jubilant and despairing crowd to the house he’d taken for his own.
Tara’s fingers were clumsy as she unbuckled his sword belt and vambraces, pulled his chainmail over his head and laid it on a table.
‘Softly done,’ he said. ‘You dressed your husband for battle?’
Tara blinked, belatedly remembered her cover story. ‘Many times, honoured, so that he would remember me when he fought.’ She paused. ‘Honoured, how can the Blessed One bring back your goddess? How is such a thing possible?’
Valan swilled wine around his mouth and then sat at the window, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. He rarely did.
‘We need the king’s sister,’ he said eventually and Tara’s head snapped up. She stared at his profile, unblinking. ‘Corvus’s sister Rillirin is pregnant. The Blessed One believes the child will be the vessel that returns the Dark Lady to us, divine essence clothed in mortal flesh. And so we will bring her here, and the Blessed One will do what is necessary to restore our goddess to us.’
Not if I can slaughter the bitch first, she won’t.
‘Rillirin,’ Tara managed. ‘That’s a pretty name. I expect she will be glad to see her brother again.’
Valan grunted and drank more wine. ‘Somehow, I doubt that.’