“You should refuse these letters,” Basrahip said. “Bring the voices themselves to you. Hear them as you hear me. In this way all things are made real.”
“I’m not sure how well that works,” Geder said, taking a bite of the peppers. Their heat had nothing to do with temperature, and he drizzled a line of honey onto them as he spoke. “It’s a big empire. Having people bring all the news in person seems like it would slow things down pretty badly.”
“You are the man of wisdom in these things,” Basrahip said. “I only say that the hard words you have read have weighed you down. The words I bring may still be hard, but they will lift you. I have no greater proof than this.”
“Wait,” Geder said. “Hard words? Why are they hard? I thought you said they were glorious.”
“They are,” Basrahip said. “The city of Kaltfel is in chaos, Prince Geder. Through your will, the enemies of the goddess and the servants of lies have been brought forth where they can no longer hide. The apostate claims the city as his own, claims the temple as his own. I came to him myself—a man I have known from childhood—and I begged that he listen to her true voice. And do you know what he said?”
“He called Basrahip an apostate,” Aster said, the excitement in his voice bordering on joy. Apparently the prince had some insight into why that would be a good thing that Geder didn’t, because it sounded like a bad situation to him.
Basrahip must have seen something in Geder’s face, because he chuckled and leaned forward, his massive elbows resting on the table. “From the moment you and I met, back in the temple of the desert, you have known that we brought truth to a world built of lies, Prince Geder. And now the lord of lies has come. We have driven the servants of deceit from the shadows and they take to the streets with their knives and their clubs. They have given up the treachery which was their only strength.”
“Knives and clubs?” Geder said. “What the hell is going on in Kaltfel?”
“The last stand of lies,” Basrahip said. “The first death throes of the enemy.”
“It’s because Kaltfel was the first place that we took,” Aster said. “It was the first city that had a temple built in it that wasn’t Antean to begin with.”
“But—” Geder began.
“Listen to me, Prince Geder. Listen to my voice. This is what we have always hoped for. This is the proof that all your work has not been in vain.”
Geder tried to chew a bite of honeyed peppers, tried to swallow. It was difficult. His throat seemed tighter than it should have been. When he spoke, his voice was smaller than he expected it to be, more tentative. “We wanted this?”
“The first wave of your power has washed over the world,” Basrahip said. “It has brought purity with it, and those to whom purity is a poison have writhed in pain to see it come.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Geder said. “I mean, there has certainly been resistance, even though we didn’t start any of it. It was always them attacking us. We never set out to attack anybody. They always hit first.”
“Because they feared your power and hers,” Basrahip said. “Because in it, they saw their coming death, and they knew that this day—this day—would come. The rise of the apostate of Kaltfel is the call to end the age of dragons. He leads the forces of lies, and his defeat will begin the spread of her peace over the world.”
“So he isn’t defeated?” Geder said. “Kaltfel’s in riot, and the apostate is still alive.”
“Yes,” Basrahip said. “And when his power breaks, her peace will flow from Kaltfel and fill the world.”
“And Cithrin and Callon Cane. The Timzinae. And the dragon. How do they fit in with this?”
“There are many servants of the lie. Cut this one down, this one who was in the grace of the goddess and fell from it, and all the rest will come unraveled. This is the battle we have prayed for. That we have worked so long to call forth. And now it is come, and the hour of your victory with it. You are about to win everything.”
The hour of my victory, Geder thought, and a tightness he hadn’t known he carried released in his back. He felt his shoulders rise like someone had taken a weight off of them. He hadn’t realized how much the news of unrest from around the empire had been bothering him until Basrahip came to put it all in its right place. Of course there were troubles. Of course there was fighting and strife. And he had known, because Basrahip had told him, that the enemies of the goddess weren’t going to give themselves up easily. It was only in looking at maps and reading the reports of battles lost or only half won that he’d lost his way. Basrahip had told him the truth. No cities with a temple to the goddess had been lost, and now none would be. He took a bite of the beef and closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of the animal’s blood and imagining a map with light pouring out from Kaltfel and spreading to the corners of the page. And all of it would be done before Aster took the throne.
It wasn’t that there was hope. It was better than hope. It was certainty.
He needed to tell Daskellin about it. Looking back, he could see that the baron had been growing concerned. Probably that was part of why Geder had let himself be worried too. Now that it was clear there was no cause for concern, he had a gift he could share.
“All right,” Geder said. “Tell me what we need to do.”
“We must destroy the apostate,” Basrahip said. “The culling blades we carried made a strong start—very strong. But they carry a terrible weight, even when worn by the righteous. Many of those corrupted by the apostate fell before us, but not the man himself. Of my brothers who rode at my side, only three remain. The time for waiting has passed. We must take your swords and your bows and return to the capital of lies in force. When the corruption is purged, Kaltfel will shine like a beacon, and all who love truth will rise up as one.”
“All right,” Geder said, and then, “That may be tricky. We’ve already sent all the soldiers we could spare to Inentai or else Birancour. I could send word to Jorey and have him bring the army, but that would mean going back through the pass at Bellin or else marching through Northcoast. Thanks to Canl, things with Northcoast are fine, but I can’t think King Tracian would feel comfortable about having our army march through his lands, even just as guests of the crown.”
“We cannot wait,” Basrahip said. “Bring what men remain. Pardon your prisoners and arm them and call them forth in her name. Abandon the plows in their fields and the sheep in their pastures. There is no work under the sky more glorious than this.”
“Yes, well,” Geder said. “I may need some help convincing people of that.”
“I am your righteous servant, Prince Geder. As she is the righteous servant of humanity and enemy of all those who would beguile you. This was the work I was brought into the world to complete. I will not fail you now.”
Aster, grinning, pounded his palms on the table. His eyes were bright, and Geder felt the joy in the boy’s eyes echoed in himself. The end was coming. The last battle that would finally, finally, set the world right and make all the loss and fear and sacrifice have meaning. Then Cithrin would understand what she’d done to him.
Then she would come back.
Outside the unshuttered window, the perfect light of morning shone across the city, brightening the roofs and streets like a fire that never stopped burning. A flock of pigeons wheeled over the Division, falling as Geder watched into the wide canyon to pluck some food from the garbage dropped to its depths. Camnipol, the center of the empire, the center of Firstblood power in the world. And his now to lead and to perfect. In his imagination, Cithrin stood beside him, her sheer, pale dress pressed against her by the breeze, her pale hair and eyes glowing with the light of the flawless, lucid day. Her smile was angelic, her lips soft and wet and pale as snow. He took her hand in his.