"I'm sorry?"
"You gave a very specific time limit for Gabriella to return. I wondered why?"
Kesar took a deep breath. "What I am about to tell you is known only to Eminences and above, but you will have to know because you will witness it. Beyond the valley and the gatehouse, there is a citadel constructed — " He stopped himself and pursed his lips, considering. "No, constructed is not entirely the right word. Carved into the mountainside might be more accurate. It may be Dwarven or Elven, but no-one is really certain. Our Inquisitors have followed several small groups of Brotherhood factions to that valley."
"You knew about this before?"
Kesar didn't react to the question. "It's quite clear that this is where the sinners who have vanished from the western cities of Pontaine have gone. They can only be building a power base."
"The Brotherhood never had enough manpower for an army," DeBarres said dismissively.
"But with other whoremongers, gamblers, out-of-work mercenaries… Imagine if they could indoctrinate so many people. Convert them. How effectively can we block the valley?" Kesar asked.
"Block it?" DeBarres was baffled. If there was to be a fight, he needed to be able to put forces into it. "It's our only access to — "
"It is also their only exit."
DeBarres thought he saw where Kesar was going. "It's their only mass exit, but you can bet your Eminent ring that there are animal and goblin trails all around and through smaller cuttings. If you're thinking of laying siege, I already told you it'd be a dubious idea, for that very reason."
"You're questioning my authority, Raul?" Kesar's voice was mild, but DeBarres wasn't fooled.
"I'm questioning your tactical and strategic experience," DeBarres corrected him. "A siege would necessitate making sure they can't get food in, or send messages for reinforcements. Magical communications aside, they wouldn't have much problem getting runners or small groups out, carrying supplies in small quantities." DeBarres sighed. "If that's what you want I'll do it, but you'll be committing the whole of the Swords to a siege that might last longer than the last war between Pontaine and Vos."
Kesar smiled. "What if I were to tell you that the siege will last no more than two days?"
"I'd wonder what the point of it would be. We wouldn't even be fully emplaced that quickly."
"We do not need to be," Kesar reassured him. "It is not my intention to begin a long siege in the area. The Swords need only block any attempt the Brotherhood forces make to escape the area."
"If we can have an elemental mage pull an embankment up at the narrowest point of the valley, it'll slow any crowds right down and hem them in. Then we can use the plain at this end as a killing ground, using our people as cavalry to ride down anyone who comes over."
"Good enough."
CHAPTER 17
Guards were patrolling everywhere beyond the gateway, while civilians were hard at work, fetching and carrying.
The Glass Mountain rose from what Gabriella could imagine as the palm of a hand made of mountains; five towering peaks surrounded the Glass Mountain in a semicircle to the south and east. Wide terraces were cut into the lower slopes of these mountains. The terraces were clearly ancient and edged with walls formed from the living rock. The vertical faces were all intricately carved with monstrous bas-reliefs, while huge triangular doorways gazed blackly at each other across the valley.
Markets had been set up on the lowermost terraces along with gardens. A little higher, tents and yurts housed people. Dancers were performing on several terraces, while food and drink were consumed on others.
Surrounded by the five other peaks, the Glass Mountain itself was even more impressive. She looked up, beyond the terraces and towards the clouds.
"Lord preserve us."
The mountain paled as it stretched above, white and semi-translucent in places and Gabriella pulled her cloak around herself almost instinctively. She shivered, an unconscious act that had nothing to do with the temperature. The mountain simply shone.
Terraces were cut into every side of its lower slopes and crystalline staircases swept up and down its frosted surfaces, connecting different levels. Gabriella was astounded, but Crowe seemed to be utterly dumbstruck.
"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Gabriella asked him.
"Dez, we have to get out of here now. And we have to get everyone else here as far away as we possibly can."
"Is this to do with the Isle of the Star?"
"Yes." There was a tremble to his voice. "We should never have come here."
She thought long and hard. Perhaps this was the time she had been waiting for. Perhaps it was time to push him where he needed to go. She dismounted, and held out a hand to help him to do the same. They walked their horses to a hitching post and Gabriella looked around for some place private. There was a makeshift soup kitchen on a nearby terrace and she led him to it. They bought stew and bread and sat on upturned barrels as far as possible from any eavesdroppers.
"You didn't have to come here. You could have left a hundred times since the meeting with Sandor Feyn."
"Maybe I've got a crush on you."
She shook her head. "I'd see that in your eyes and I don't."
Crowe hesitated. "Dez… You may have noticed that I've got no love for the Faith."
"I noticed, yes. I'm sure there must be a cure."
"Heh. One thing to remember is that I've no love for the Brotherhood either. They got a lot of good men killed on the Belle and they've made a lot of people's lives a misery."
"The Brotherhood is very good at that."
"So is the Faith, lass. So is the Faith."
"The Faith doesn't cause misery. It fights it."
Crowe fidgeted. "Some of you do, all right?" He paused. "Somehow, what happened on the Isle and what's happening here — hell, what's happened in my whole life the past few bloody years — is tied up with the Brotherhood and with the Faith. I owe the Brotherhood, probably more than I owe the Faith."
"Owe them what?"
"I owe them for Margrave and the Belle. Hell, I even owe them that for the men I killed on the Vigilant."
"It's rare for someone to hate the Faith and the Brotherhood so… equally."
"Really? Then I guess I'm not as common a man as my manner probably suggests."
"Oh, no, don't worry about that." Gabriella reassured him. "You are."
"Nice one, God-girl."
"I dread to think who's footsteps you follow in. Maybe your father's"
"He was a priest in the Brotherhood." Crowe scowled, clearly unhappy with the direction the conversation was taking. "If he was still alive, I'm sure he'd disown me. You're probably taught all sorts of propaganda about what the Brotherhood is like, Dez. I bet it's all vile and full of tales about misogynistic brutes who like to see themselves as the Lord's favourites."
"Some of it."
"Most of the Brotherhood brothers I've met are no different than most of your comrades I've met and, going by some of Makennon's exploits, they might have a point in their opposition to the Faith."
Gabriella felt the anger rise within her. "The Anointed Lord is a great woman!"
"You may say that, and it might even be true, but I can't really be the judge of it. Sometimes the misogynistic brute image of the Brotherhood is true, though. Enough times to — Well, when it's your father, the once is enough."
Whatever was crouching in his memories, slowly poisoning him, was surely about to show itself here.
"My father saw my mother as nothing more than breeding stock. He wanted to have sons for the Brotherhood." He paused. "Do they tell you that at your Faith seminary? The Brotherhood have a Pledge too, but theirs is to have at least one son, not exactly one child. I was the first, of course, and Dad was delighted. Then they had a daughter and Dad wasn't the least bit interested. He wanted more sons, who'd grow up to be Brothers. My mother wasn't having any of it and she liked to go to the Faith church, because there were women there and there had been female Anointed Lords."