Chapter Fourteen

 

After the creature had guided he and Katya back to the Llothriall, Silus spent some time communicating with it. The creature responded to him with peace and gratitude, thankful that it was finally free of the Chadassa yoke. But, before it could go and join its brethren in the depths of the deep-sea trenches, Silus requested a favour.

They needed to find land, and soon. Without Emuel, without the full power of the stone that was the heart of the Llothriall, they were stranded. It would only be a matter of time before the Chadassa launched another attack and Katya was getting dangerously close to her full term. And so, Silus, asked the leviathan to guide them to land.

For a while the creature hadn't responded and Silus contemplated the possibility that there just wasn't any land nearby; that they'd ride the seas until they died of thirst or starvation. Years from now, they'd wash up on some Allantian shore, an unusual ship manned by a crew of skeletons. Perhaps somebody would even write a sea shanty about the mystery of the sepulchral travellers.

But then the creature replied and Silus breathed a sigh of relief.

The crew's enthusiasm and gratitude, however, were tempered by their friend's recent death and when Silus tried to persuade the two remaining smugglers to help harness the creature to the ship, Ignacio refused. After all, this thing had killed his friend. But Silus reminded him that it was the Chadassa, and not the leviathan who had been responsible for his loss.

"Ignacio, this is probably our only shot at survival," Kelos said, coming to Silus's defence. "Don't let this voyage have been for nothing."

"The mage is right," said Jacquinto. "How do you think Ioannis would have wanted to die, Ignacio? Deep in the Citadel at Turnitia, tortured to death by the City Guard for running Sarcrean spice to low-life users? Or out on the open waters, battling with his friends and using his sword for something worth fighting for? This was where he wanted to be."

Ignacio looked at Silus, then at Katya cradling the curve of her belly and his features softened.

"Throw me a knife." He said to Jacquinto before scrambled into the rigging.

Soon they were moving at the creature's full pace and Silus communicated his thanks to the leviathan. It responded with a great, booming call that vibrated the planks of the deck.

 

Brother Incera polished the telescope's eyepiece before bringing his right eye to bear on it once again. He found that he hadn't been mistaken after all. The thing that looked like a small black dot moving across the face of Kerberos was not a flaw in the lens.

The astronomer noted the position of the dark spec on his charts before increasing the magnification and looking again.

The dot now resolved itself into a sphere, about an eighth the size of Kerberos, its surface a pure featureless black. He tracked its progress for a couple of hours before satisfying himself that it was not on a collision course with Twilight. Then he cranked the handle that lowered the telescope's cradle, stepped down from the seat and stretched to work out the kinks in his back.

In all his years as the Final Faith's head astronomer, he had done little more of note than track the movement of the stars and record the phases of eclipses. He had studied what few ancient astronomical texts there were, but they told him nothing he couldn't have found out for himself just by looking at the sky. It would seem that to the Old Races the heavens were just as much a mystery as they currently were to the humans. Yet the Final Faith still maintained an interest in the astronomical arts and this was why Brother Incera had occupied his position for the last three decades, tucked away in his dusty observatory in one of the highest towers of Scholten cathedral.

He had to admit that he was a touch alarmed at the appearance of the new moon. Katherine Makennon would have to be informed. No doubt she would be just as surprised at his continued existence as she would be at the news of the astronomical phenomena.

Brother Incera felt a little trepidation at the prospect of an audience with the Anointed Lord. It had been quite some time since he had last spoken to the leader of the Final Faith. In fact it had been quite some time since he had last spoken to anybody.

Carefully, he descended the spiral staircase that led from his garret down to the main levels, his arthritis burning deep in his bones. By the entrance to a bell tower he paused to catch his breath and managed to startle a passing Eminence who hadn't expected to see so pale or so elderly a figure leaning against a wall in this part of the cathedral. The Eminence hurried on, throwing glances behind him as though he wasn't sure that Brother Incera wasn't a ghost.

The astronomer muttered a benediction at the priest's back before descending into the main body of the cathedral.

Here he briefly basked in the warm, heavily incensed air that wafted through the decorated arches and aisles. In their stalls beyond the transept, the Eternal Choir's song heralded the approach of dusk, the last few rays of the sun pouring through the stained-glass windows painting the robed singers with vivid splashes of colour.

Brother Incera realised that this meant that it would be at least two hours before the next service and, in all likelihood, Katherine Makennon would currently be in her audience chamber.

He descended more stairs before being stopped at an ornately decorated door by two knights of The Order of the Swords of Dawn.

"State the nature of your business with the Anointed Lord."

"I... I." Brother Incera swallowed. It had been so long since he had spoken that his throat seemed to catch on each word. "I have important astronomical news that I believe the Anointed Lord will want very much to hear."

One of the knights disappeared into the chamber only to reappear a moment later to usher him into the hallowed sanctuary.

Brother Incera had forgotten how beautiful Katherine Makennon was and, for a moment, he looked in confusion at the bejewelled hand she held out to him. But then, remembering the seriousness of his news, he composed himself and kissed the symbol of the Final Faith before bowing low.

"Brother Incera." Makennon said. "What a pleasant surprise. It has been quite some time since we last discussed matters of astronomy."

In fact, Brother Incera was fairly certain that they had never discussed matters of astronomy. He had, of course, been introduced to Makennon at her inauguration, but since then she had shown as much interest in matters concerning the heavens as had the crumbling relics who had preceded her ministry.

"Forgive me Anointed Lord, but I had thought you wouldn't remember me. I am most honoured."

"Well of course I remember you, Brother Incera. I often think of you up in the heights of Scholten, gazing at the stars. I only wish I had time for such activity myself. You must feel so close to the Lord of All, looking up at His most holy and divine work."

"Oh yes, yes I do. The beauty of Kerberos never fails to move me."

There was the sound of someone stifling a laugh from one of the dark arches that ringed the chamber, before a skeletal man with a shaved head, wearing dark robes, stepped into the light.

"Ah, Querilous." Makennon said. "Have you met Brother Incera?"

They hadn't met but Brother Incera had certainly heard of Querilous Fitch. He thought, with some regret, that previous Anointed Lords would never have employed someone so enamoured of the sorcerous arts. Even in his garret he had heard rumours of the magics being employed by the Faith to further the aims of the church.

"We haven't. But Mr Fitch's reputation precedes him."

Brother Incera shook Querilous's hand and the sorcerer returned his weak grip with one that made his bones ache.

"And have you named a new star in honour of the Anointed Lord?" Fitch said, a not entirely pleasant smile on his lips.

"N-no. This astronomical matter is rather more serious."

The smile dropped from Querilous's face and he gestured for Brother Incera to continue.

"I have sighted a body of some sort moving across the face of Kerberos. It appears to be a black sphere. It's quite featureless and, at the moment, it holds a steady orbit."

"A black sphere? Has it come from Kerberos?" Makennon said. "Could it be a sign from the Lord of All?"

"I don't know, but I don't think so. What is more there was no warning or sign of its approach. It's almost as though it appeared out of nowhere."

"A dark sphere moving across the face of Kerberos." Querilous said quietly, almost to himself, and Brother Incera noticed that he had paled.

"Querilous. Do you have a notion of what it could be?" Makennon said.

"Just something that the... prisoner said before it expired. It may be nothing to worry about but I probably should take a look for myself."

"Very well. Brother Incera, I'm sure you will not object to Querilous accompanying you to the observatory?"

"Not at all, Anointed Lord. It will be an honour."

Brother Incera had almost forgotten how much he hated displaying false deference. One of the advantages of being so isolated in his work was that he very rarely had to tug the forelock to higher ranking church members.

As they ascended to his tower, he insisted that Querilous walk ahead. The thought of having such a one at his back sent a chill through him.

In the observatory he noted Querilous looking with disdain at the piles of charts and mouldering books, many of which were draped with cats. In a corner, on Brother Incera's rumpled cot, a ginger moggy nursed six kittens.

"Ah, my family. They keep me company and keep me sane. Feel free to pet them, I can assure you that none bite."

"Thank you, but I'd rather not. Now if you could show me this object that has so perplexed you, I would appreciate it."

Brother Incera showed Querilous how to position himself in the telescope's cradle before checking the magnification. Having made a few adjustments he gestured to the eyepiece. "Please."

He watched Querilous as he looked, the expression of haughty disdain on the inquisitor's face slowly disappearing to be replaced by something like fear.

As the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the azure giant, the dark sphere moved into the exact centre of the face of Kerberos.

"'With the dying of the light, our dark God comes.'"

"I - I'm sorry Brother Querilous, but I'm not sure I follow. Is something wrong?"

"Yes Brother Incera, something is wrong." Querilous descended from the telescope and fixed the astronomer with a determined, yet disturbed, gaze. "I will assign several advisors to work with you as we chart the progress of this... thing. You will report back to the Anointed Lord and I on a daily basis. And, if I were you, in the meantime, I'd make this place somewhat more habitable."

Querilous strode from the room, scattering cats in his wake.

Brother Incera listened to his footfalls as they descended the spiral staircase and knew that the thirty years of peace he had enjoyed were now over.

 

Ioannis's body rode the waves - a tiny barque on the fierce seas - before a sudden swell washed him under.

Father Maylan closed his well-thumbed prayer book and sketched the symbol of the Many Paths in the air with his right index finger. The words that he had said as Jacquinto and Ignacio had committed their friend's body to the sea had seemed to resonate with the two men and, for a while, they prayed together in silence.

Ioannis had died while Silus and Katya had been entangled in the grip of the leviathan. Kelos had desperately tried to help him cling to life, but there had been nothing he could have done. Ioannis's wounds were so severe that his bleeding couldn't be staunched, and what few medicines and poultices there were on board had proved to be next to useless.

Jacquinto and Ignacio watched the place where their comrade's body had been swallowed by the sea before emptying his tobacco pouch and hip flask into the water.

"Go well, my friend." Ignacio said.

Father Maylan placed a hand on his shoulder. "All paths lead to Kerberos."

Beyond the three men the rest of the crew stood at a respectful distance, having already said their goodbyes and not wanting to interfere in the intimacy of the ceremony. Silus held Katya close and, beside him, Kelos supported a pale but sufficiently recovered Emuel, while Dunsany stood with his head bowed.

They all looked up at the sound of a rope snapping and falling heavily to the deck.

Ignacio swore and raced to the prow of the ship, where he tried to stop the rope going over the side. He managed to catch it before it slipped over the rail, but his strength was as nothing compared to that of the creature on the other end, and his hands were badly burnt as the rope was jerked violently into the water.

"Silus, can't you do something?" Ignacio shouted, stuffing his sore hands under his armpits. "It's your bloody pet!"

Silus stood at the prow and looking at the leviathan that guided the Llothriall under harness, he urged it to slow its pace. As the creature responded, the ropes that led from the ship to encircle it lost some of their tension.

"I can tell you now that I'm not going down there to bring that rope back up and re-secure it. It was painful enough the first time." Ignacio said, looking over the side of the ship. "Who's idea was it to use this creature anyway?"

 

Belck was not angry, though the manner in which Findol delivered the news of the ruroth's failure suggested that he expected some severe reprimand. But they had not failed, Belck considered. Not really. They still knew exactly where Silus and Katya were. The fact that Silus had managed to break through the conditioning of the ruroth and tame the creature showed that he was changing faster than any of them could have hoped. Their plan may have to evolve a little, but it had in no way been broken.

Besides, now was surely not the time to wallow in defeat, for their God had finally come amongst them.

Belck could sense the excitement of his kin as he donned his ceremonial raiment and made his way to the temple. In all the history of the Chadassa they had never been so close to the time of the Great Flood. The time when all reality would become the dark sea from which the Chadassa had sprung and to which the Chadassa would soon return. The Old Races were all but extinct and now it was the turn of the humans to follow their ancestors into the night.

That a human would help to bring about this new era wasn't entirely lost on Belck. Yet Silus was not human, not entirely. It was Chadassa blood that ran in his veins and it was his seed that would produce the new breed; the Land Walkers who would devastate Twilight.

Even through the thick stone doors of the temple, Belck could hear the song of his people, their voices raised in the complex tonalities of ancient song to welcome the arrival of their God.

As the last verse of the song faded away, Belck gestured with his hands and the doors of the temple swung slowly open.

As the congregation turned to watch him Belck realised that they were all relying on his guidance, his judgement for the days ahead. After all, he was the avatar of their God. The enormity of the task before him cowed Belck for a moment, but as he took to the pulpit and signalled his acknowledgment to the elders seated to either side he tried not to show his fear.

Raising his arms he allowed the hope of his people to strengthen him.

"He is the Great Ocean and he has come amongst us!"

"He is the endless sea." The congregation replied.

"He heralds the time of the Great Flood."

"And we will swim together, in eternity."

"Brothers and sisters we will indeed swim together for the Great Flood will soon be at hand. The half-breed will join in communion with our Queen and together they will give rise to the Land Walkers. This new breed of Chadassa will stride across Twilight, slaying all in their path and when they reach the mountains at the edge of the world they will tear open the very earth. Then the Great Ocean will pour its dark waters into the exposed heart of this world and unleash the power of the Flood! All reality will be bathed in the waters of the Great Ocean and the Chadassa's empire will know no ends."

For all the certainties contained in his proclamations Belck was somewhat dismayed that he still felt an edge of doubt. It was the same doubt he had felt at the summoning ceremony, when the dark face of their God had been revealed to them. In fact, he realised, it was a doubt that had been with him for a very long time.

Belck had studied the ancient texts. He had listened to the council of the elders and born witness to their testimony concerning the work of their God amongst them. But when they had started to talk about the purpose of the Great Ocean and His plans for the Chadassa, Belck had begun to feel a flaw begin to work its way through his faith.

After all, who were they to say what the Great Ocean's purpose really was?

In all the times that Belck had communed with the God he had sensed nothing to link him to that consciousness, nothing that said to him: 'I have created you for a greater purpose and for a greater glory.'

There was only that dark, terrible presence. Older than Belck could ever imagine, and unknowable.

Those who had led the Chadassa before Belck had accepted the presence of the Great Ocean without question. They praised him and expected nothing in return. They had spent their lives preaching from the ancient texts just as they had been set down and prophesying the time of the Great Flood, which they had known would happen long after they died. And so, they had never had to come face to face with the reality of the God himself. They had never had to stare into that dark and pitted surface and wonder what the realisation of the prophesies would bring.

But Belck let none of this doubt taint his proclamations.

"He is the Great Ocean. Brothers and Sisters, gaze upon the face of your God."

Above them the ceiling of the temple rippled, as though they were looking up at the surface of a vast pool. And then, they were staring into the face of Kerberos. Yet the azure disk was marred by a dark tumour and, as the Chadassa realised that this black sphere was the face of their God, they raised their voices in song.

As Belck joined his congregation, he wondered if any of them actually really knew what the Great Flood was. Whether any of them could say that they truly knew what the plans of their God meant for them.

Belck couldn't.

And that scared him more than anything.

 

Ever since Kelos had shown Silus how to open his mind to the creatures of the sea, he had been aware of the abundance of life that moved beneath them. But it was not the only life he could sense now and he soon realised that the urgent whisper that he had been hearing, that seemed to underlie everything, came not from the sea, but from Katya's womb.

Katya clutched Silus's hand as a contraction gripped her. It was the second in the last hour and he could tell that she was beginning to panic.

"Not long now and I promise that you'll have something more stable than the deck of a ship beneath you."

"I really hope so. I have a feeling that this one isn't going to want to hang around."

Silus knew. The urgent whisper had grown in volume. In fact, the voice was so clear now that he could tell that they were going to have a son.

Katya breathed deeply as the pain passed. She looked exhausted and Silus wished that he could take away the fear that he saw in her eyes.

"You should get some sleep," he said. "You've gone through more than any expectant mother should endure. But when our son is -"

"We're going to have a son? Silus, how do you know?"

"I... I can hear him. He's speaking to us."

"Like you could hear the creature that's towing the ship?"

"Something like that."

"What's he's saying?"

"It's not words I can hear, so much as the voice of his urgency. He's almost ready to come into the world."

"How can you hear these things Silus? Where did this power come from?"

"I don't know. It just seems to have been awoken somehow."

"You're changing?"

Silus thought of the vision that the Chadassa ancient had shown him and the vision of the battle at the underwater citadel, how he had felt the joy of the fight overtake him.

"I'm still me," he said and kissed Katya's forehead. "Still the fisherman from Nürn you fell for."

But something about the look that Katya gave him told Silus that she was no longer so sure.

Katya's waters broke on the third day after they had harnessed the ship to the leviathan, and Silus immediately went into a state of full-blown panic. Fortunately Father Maylan had helped deliver children in his parish on many an occasion and was fully conversant in dealing with fearful new fathers.

"First thing Silus - and this is very important - drink this."

Silus took the bottle of flummox and necked half the contents. Beside him Katya shot her husband a filthy look.

"In case of emergency drink first huh?" she said. "Great advice. I'd always wanted to give birth on a ship with a half-cut husband by my side."

"Now Katya, don't say anything you don't mean," Maylan said, before rolling up his sleeves.

"Okay, in that case I won't say I wished that Silus had never met Kelos and that I wished we'd never been forced onto this voyage."

Silus gripped Katya's hand and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm so sorry Katya. Father Maylan will see us through this. Don't worry."

Katya screamed as another contraction hit and Silus looked at the priest, urging him to do something.

Maylan knelt down and hooked a pair of spectacles over his ears. "Oh yes, all quite normal down here I can assure you. Nothing to worry about at all. Now Katya, I want you to start to push... now."

Silus cried out in pain at the same time as his wife, as his hand was crushed in her grip.

"That's it Katya. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe."

Father Maylan did something with his hands and Silus was alarmed to see him wipe blood off them a moment later. The priest caught the panicked look on Silus's face and shot him a reassuring smile. "Really Silus, don't worry. The blood is all part of it. You're going to have to get used to a certain level of mess. All part of the magic of childbirth."

"Magic!" Katya shouted. "I'm sure you wouldn't say that if you were in my position."

"Don't worry Katya. We'll soon be there. And another big push. One, two, push."

The sweat was pouring off Katya now and Silus brushed the hair out of her eyes. Every time she screamed out, every time she had to give another push his heart lurched and a terror gripped him that something would go wrong. He knew women who had died giving birth. Strong, healthy women. And here was Katya, miles out at sea with not a midwife overseeing proceedings, but a priest on the run from the Final Faith.

The ship shuddered and the light coming in through the porthole dimmed as the sun moved behind Kerberos.

"That's it, I can see the head. Another big push now Katya."

The ship lurched again and Maylan stumbled into the wall. Above them the lamp swung wildly on its fastening and the flame within died.

And then Silus and Katya's son gave voice to his arrival in the world.

Maylan got to his feet and staggered over to Katya. He reached between her legs, urging her to push one more time as the cries of the infant grew in volume.

"You've done it Katya," Silus said. "We have a son. My gods, we have a son!"

"You do indeed," said Maylan, a grin on his face, holding aloft the child, his arms coated in birthing fluids.

After cutting the umbilical cord he gave the boy to Katya. The child struggled in her arms for just a moment, until she helped him find her breast, and then the only sound in the room was the gentle, content sound of his suckling.

Silus looked at their boy and, instantly, it was love. In Katya's eyes was the self same look.

Father Maylan was the first to break the quiet.

"And have you thought of a name for the wee chap?"

Katya looked up at Silus and he said: "Zac. His name is Zac."

"Zac," she repeated as though trying it out. And then: "Yes. Zac."

"Congratulations. Both of you."

"Maylan. I really can't thank you enough." Katya said.

From above them there was the thunder of feet on deck. Silus heard ropes creak as somebody scrambled up the rigging.

And then there was the call they had so desperately been hoping for these last few days.

"Land Ahoy!"