A Shout for the Dead (8 page)

'And that has proved to be a mistake, one that I expected you to raise with me.' Herine ate a quarter of an orange. 'But I'm not here to apportion blame. We have new emerged talent ready to take the message outside and they will do so at the earliest opportunity. This will leave you three free to respond to the news Yuran gave up with the torch all but touching his pyre.

'The principal reason Felice cannot win the battle for the hearts of my citizens is that nothing the Ascendancy has done, no action you Ascendants have made, has been anything other than overwhelmingly positive. Is what is coming out of Tsard about to change all that?'

A firm rap on the door to the Chancellery heralded General Harkov's entrance.

'I apologise for interrupting your meeting, my Advocate, but this won't wait.'

'Did you model your behaviour entirely on Paul Jhered's penchant for dramatic interruption?' asked Herine, tight-lipped. 'It is more important than the future of the Ascendancy and perhaps, my Advocacy?'

Harkov paused and darted a glance at Jhered.

'I think it is pertinent to the conversation,' he said carefully.

'Then I am all ears,' she said.

Harkov made a beckoning gesture with his hand and a man walked in behind him. He was wearing lightweight clothes for such a chill day, grey woollen weave and with mountains embroidered on the chest. But then, he was a Karku. Genastro evenings were probably uncomfortably hot for him. He had thick curled hair and a beard and walked barefoot, his long limbs and short body giving him an unbalanced appearance that Herine found very unattractive.

He was clearly tired after a long journey but Harkov had at least seen to it that he was clean from the trail. Finally, Herine noticed his eyes. He was studying them all, brow creased, with a look bordering on sympathy. But there was something else in there too. Herine had seen it often. He was afraid.

'Who—?' she began but was interrupted by the sound of Jhered's steel-shod road boots on the marble and stone floor.

'Harban?' he said. 'Is it you?'

'Exchequer Jhered,' said the man in an accent so thick it was close to impenetrable. 'Please. You must help
us. The Ascendants must come.'

Chapter Six

859th cycle of God, 4th day of
Genasrise

Harban didn't really want to sit down but the Advocate wasn't going to talk to him until he did. Jhered had spoken quiet words to him and he had acquiesced eventually.

Arducius watched while Harban calmed and accepted a goblet of wine with hands that were shaking so much he needed both to guide the cup to his lips. His breathing was ragged, as though he was in pain, but the fear they had all seen in his eyes had gone for the moment, replaced by a sadness that pulsed all the way through his energy map. It was so powerful that Arducius had to fight back the tears. Ossacer and Mirron were not able to.

'What's all this about?' asked Jhered of Harkov.

'He wouldn't say too much. Just that he had to speak to the Ascendants and it was about Gorian and the dead.'

'They are coming. The mountain will shiver,' said Harban. 'It will fall.'

Ossacer laid a hand on his arm. Immediately, the Karku relaxed and some colour came to his cheeks. His trembling subsided.

'By the Heart of the Mountain, if only every Ascendant was as you are,' said Harban.

'Only one of us has
...'
said Arducius.

'One is enough.'

Across the table, the Advocate cleared her throat.

'Yes. All very dramatic. Now let's have detail and reality. I have other appointments today.'

Harban was silent for a time, gathering his thoughts. Arducius could see the Advocate weighing him up. That Jhered knew and respected Harban had given him significant credibility.

'Many of my people have what you call passive Ascendant abilities.

It has always been so. It is inscribed on the stones of Inthen-Gor.' 'Which is?' asked the Advocate.

'Our most sacred shrine. The Heart of Kark in the mountain.'

'I'm terribly pleased you're so accepting of the Ascendancy but is this history lesson leading to anything significant?'

Harban shot her a sharp glance. 'Had you followed our way, you would not face what you do now. The shunned turn from the light.'

'And what do we face now, Harban?' asked Jhered, interrupting the Advocate's retort.

'A prophecy was written when Inthen-Gor was founded. Its roots are ancient and until the appearance of your four Ascendants, its message went unheeded by most, the inscription a curiosity, a tale of doom that could never come to pass. Now it seems it will.'

'Look
...
Harban,' said the Advocate. 'I respect your ways and your beliefs but in this world, my world, ancient prophecies are ridiculed for lots of good reasons. Mostly because they are utter rubbish that you can bend to current events if you really try hard enough. But also because they never suggest a solution. All they do is describe what we already know and can see. Or indeed some inescapable doom which never, ever comes to pass. Don't waste my time.'

Arducius sensed Harban's mood change. His energy map flooded a bright blue, pulsing with white.

'Then you will die in your ignorance.' He stood, flung his goblet to the floor and jabbed a finger at her. 'You insult the Karku. Your clever words will be as acid in your throat when you are overrun. I have no need of your Conquord, only the Ascendants. It is my time wasted talking to you.' _ 'How dare—'

'Herine!' Jhered was back at Harban's shoulder, pushing him firmly back into his seat. 'Please. And you, Harban. Sit. This gets us nowhere. No one is wasting anyone's time. Harban, you will take care with your words when you speak to my Advocate. Herine, he has travelled well over a thousand miles at his own behest. The least we can do is listen to him.'

The stand-off was brief but the air between them was alive with their anger. Energy from their bodies coiled and spat so bright Arducius had to block it from his eyes. Poor Ossacer had no choice but to stare. It was all he had.

Harban nodded. Herine's eyes narrowed but she sat, smoothing her toga over her legs.

'Perhaps I should relate the prophecy,' said Harban quietly.

'Perhaps you should apologise,' said Herine.

'For what?'

'I am the Advocate.'

'And I want to keep you in that position.' Jhered coughed and glared.

'All right,' said Herine, waving a hand. 'Get on with it. The suspense is almost overwhelming.'

Harban shook his head. Arducius's heart was hurrying along in his chest, the atmosphere deeply uncomfortable and in his mind a clash of unruly energies played out all around the table.

'"The lost will be plucked from rest by malign hands. Their footfalls will shiver the mountain. Purpose without reason. Triumph without glory. Should the mountain fall, so shall he ascend. And from the new peak shall he and his spawn preside over the tipping of the world.'"

Harban spoke with reverence and passion. It was one of those moments old Father Kessian would have called 'portentous'. The discomfort in the Chancellery dissipated. And despite the fact that the prophecy matched much of the Advocate's opinion, she had a frown on her face and was leaning forward.

'Almost poetic,' she said. 'A literal translation, I presume?'

Harban nodded. 'As close as we can match to native Estorean.'

'And what makes you believe this prophecy is coming to pass?'

Arducius saw Ossacer wince at the strength of Harban's emotional reaction. The Karku dropped his head and wrung his hands in his lap. When he looked back up, his eyes were full of tears.

'Because I have seen it,' he said, his voice cracking at the memory. 'My mentor, my guide, my oldest friend.'

'Icenga,' breathed Mirron.

'Dead. I saw him fall. Shot from the mountain like an animal. And then I saw him walking though life had left him.' Harban shuddered and choked off.

The Advocate was nonplussed. 'Presumably he simply survived the fall?'

'Do you think I don't know death when I see it?' Harban's spittle flew out over the table. 'He fell more than two thousand feet on to rock. His body was broken, his blood scattered across the ice. I climbed down to him but he was gone. A single set of footprints were in the snow. And then he was coming towards me. An arrow was in his heart
...
how can I describe the walk of a dead man? How can I do that?'

His tears fell and Ossacer's touch calmed him again.

'It must have been terrible,' said the Advocate. 'But let me get this straight. There was no way you could be mistaken? It was your friend, not another? We are discussing you seeing a dead man moving, walking, presumably seeing and hearing. Indistinguishable in any way from the living.'

Harban nodded. 'Excepting that I knew him to be dead. And that in his eyes was all the fear of knowing what he had become.' 'Become?' asked Arducius.

'Even in death, the spirit of a Karku has will. Walking beyond death, Icenga no longer had free will. No man should ever be allowed to master a Karku. Not in life, not in death.'

'I don't—' began Ossacer.

'He was not just made to walk and then cast free,' said Jhered. 'Something - someone - was controlling him.'

'What happened to Icenga after you saw him?' asked the Advocate. 'Where did he go?'

'He died again. This time in my arms. And only when he was released could he tell me what he feared.'

'He could speak too?' said Jhered.

'And he breathed like a living man. But he was not.'

'This is almost all just as Yuran reported,' said Jhered.

Harban started. 'We've had other sightings and rumours in the borders of Kark but no news of anything elsewhere. This Yuran, what is his knowledge?'

'Gorian was with him for almost ten years,' said Jhered. 'If this is Gorian's doing.'

'Who else could it be? The rest of you are here. Where is Yuran? Where did Gorian go?' Harban's eyes were wild and scared again and this time Ossacer was unable to force calming energy on him.

'Yuran is in the cells, Gorian deserted him in Tsard when he met the king,' said Jhered. 'But you need to take a deep breath or two, Harban.'

'I cannot rest. I must know what Yuran has seen. We must know the extent of Gorian's powers.'

‘I
absolutely agree,' said the Advocate. 'Because at the moment, I don't see that we have a lot to worry us besides losing the theological argument. Difficult in itself but hardly threatening to the Conquord or Kark.'

Harban gaped. 'Gorian can control the dead.'

'By the sounds of it, if we believe it, one dead person at a time. I appreciate the fear it is bound to inspire but one man does not a legion make.'

'One is only the beginning,' said Harban.

The Advocate raised her eyebrows. 'All right. So let's speculate. And let's begin by realising that the only reason we are talking about something as ridiculous as the walking dead is that the things I have seen since I first heard the word "ascendant" make me willing to contemplate almost anything.'

Arducius couldn't help but smile. There were times when being in the presence of the Advocate was a truly terrifying experience. Other times were merely uncomfortable, like today. But always, the capacity for sense wrapped around a little genuine humour, no matter the occasion. It made her a little hard to read at times and Arducius reckoned that was just the way she liked it.

'So, you three,' said the Advocate. 'How does he do it and how many can he control today, tomorrow, next year?'

They looked at each other. Arducius cast his eyes up to the heavens and pointed at himself. Mirron shrugged.

'It's always you who speaks for us,' she said.

‘I
guess so,' said Arducius. 'In short, we have few answers right now. How he does it, we haven't a clue. All our work is based on the use of life energies. We can't bring life, only amplify it. When something is dead, it's dead.'

'Apparently not,' said Jhered.

Arducius shrugged.
‘I
can only tell you what we know. Assuming everything we're hearing is true, Gorian has a ten-year head start on us. He was always fascinated by controlling animals, not just healing them. But the most I ever saw him impose his will on were those three gorthock.'

The Advocate leaned back.
‘I
am hearing nothing that gives me any cause for concern. Certainly nothing that's going to bring down mountains and tip the world, whatever that actually means.'