'I am not a dolt. Of course I understand.'
‘Then climb.'
She scaled the chimney with ease, but where it narrowed she stopped. Kaelin moved closer to her. 'I cannot find a foothold,' she said.
'Move your right foot up another two feet,' he told her. As she did so he guided her foot to a small jut in the face.
‘I’ll slide off it,' she told him. 'It is too small.'
Steadying himself, he pressed his hand under her foot. 'Push now,' he said. Chara levered herself up - then slipped. She cried out as her hand wrenched clear of the fissure. Kaelin grabbed her as she slid into him. Her foot hit his left leg, dislodging it from the face. Clamping his right hand tight to the rock he hung on. Chara reached out and grabbed a tiny overhang, relieving Kaelin of some of her weight. Then she levered herself clear. Kaelin regained his foothold. He glanced across at her. There was blood on the back of her left hand, where the skin had been gashed. Ignoring the wound Chara moved back to the fissure and, pushing her hand into it, drew herself up. Kaelin followed close behind.
They were now almost a hundred feet above the forest. The wind was blowing strong, and there was rain in the air. Kaelin prayed that it would hold off.
As the fissure finally closed they came to a ledge of rock some five feet deep. Chara sank down, her back to the face. Kaelin drew himself alongside her. 'Any tremble in your arms yet?' he asked.
'Not yet.'
'Let me know when there is. Jaim says that is when the muscles are about to give out. We'll need to rest then.'
Kaelin eased his way along the ledge. It ran for almost sixty feet. The rock face was smooth almost all the way. Kaelin, who had been climbing rocks with Jaim since he was a child, knew he could find holds. Chara would not. Stepping back as far towards the edge as he could Kaelin scanned the cliff. There was another ledge some thirty feet higher, but no obvious route to it. Returning to where Chara was resting he stepped over her outstretched legs and examined the rock above the chimney. Centuries of rain had washed over the stone, smoothing it. But there were holds that Chara might manage. The problem was that an overhang obscured his view of the upper face. What if they were to climb past that, only to find no way forward? Would they be able to descend again?
Passing Chara again he walked the ledge, seeking a better way. He did not find one. Time to go,' he told her.
It took more than half an hour to reach the overhang. For most of that time Chara clung to the face, unable to reach the only handhold available. Kaelin tried to help her, but his own footholds were so small that he could not risk trying to push her. Eventually Chara took a chance and hurled herself up, her left hand scrabbling at the rock. Kaelin's heart was in his mouth. Had she fallen there would have been no way to stop her. They would both have been swept from the face. But she did not fall.
They reached the overhang, traversed along a ledge, then faced an easier climb to a wide shelf of rock. Wispy mist floated by them, and the air was cold and damp.
'You are walking in the clouds now,' Kaelin told her. 'How does it feel?'
For the first time since the rescue Chara smiled. 'It feels good. How high are we now?'
'Four hundred feet. Perhaps a little more. We need to push on. The light will be fading soon.'
For another hour they climbed steadily. In places they were able to walk and scramble up slopes created from fallen rock. At last they reached the crest of the mountain, a huge cleft between two peaks. To the west they could see the gentle slopes of Rigante valley. Chara turned back and stared down the way they had come. The light was fading, and the drop seemed even more dizzying. Suddenly giddy, she sat down. 'I cannot believe I climbed that,' she said.
'But you did, Chara,' said Kaelin. 'You conquered your fear and you conquered the mountain. And you are free.'
Wearily she pushed herself to her feet. 'I am free thanks to you, Ravenheart,' she said. 'I am sorry I have treated you so badly.'
'You have nothing to apologize for. I mean that with all my heart. Now let us get to the great house. We did not come all this way to die of cold on a mountainside.'
The wind was shrieking around them as they began their descent. There were no sheer faces here, only a series of downward slopes. Chara lifted her bundled cloak clear of her shoulders, shook it loose and wrapped it around herself. They trudged on, through the dusk and into the night, coming at last to within sight of the main Rigante settlement. Chara was close to exhaustion. They were seen by scouts from the high pass to their right. Two men came running down to intercept them. One was Rayster.
'By the Sacrifice, where the hell did you come from?'
'From the clouds,' said Chara.
The preliminary hearing into the case of The Church versus Maev Ring was held in the Holy Court, a marble building set in the grounds directly behind the cathedral. It was a beautiful copy of the ancient temple in Stone, where Persis Albitane was said to have delivered his first sermon. For more than a hundred years the Holy Court had been the main church in Eldacre, until the construction of the colossal cathedral.
Some two hundred feet long, and supported by fifty-six columns, the building was mainly used now as a museum and a repository for books and scrolls depicting the spread of the faith through these northern lands in the last eight hundred years. The prime exhibit was a golden urn, said to contain the ashes of Persis himself. Once a year the urn was carried into the cathedral for the Service of Healing, and pilgrims would travel hundreds of miles for the opportunity of touching it, and begging St Persis to intercede on their behalf, healing their bodies, or the illnesses of their loved ones. There were no pews now in the main hall of the Holy Court, but there were two hundred seats in the high galleries - one hundred on each side. At the western end of the hall, set upon a raised dais beneath an arched stained glass window, stood the Judgement Table.
The Bishop of Eldacre sat at the velvet-covered table, two abbots and three senior priests filling the other chairs. On this day the galleries were empty, for the trial proper could not be set until the judging panel had decided the merits of the case. Nevertheless, the trial date had, in fact, been organized for the following day.
Maev Ring stood before the table, her hands behind her, her wrists manacled together. Two priests, swinging bowls of holy incense on slender chains, were stationed alongside her. According to Church ritual no evil demon or spirit could be released while the incense burned. Maev glanced up at the tall, stained glass window. It showed the saint, Persis Albitane, kneeling before a veiled woman. Golden light was flowing from her fingers and forming a halo around his head.
'Let the hearing begin,' said the bishop. 'I have many duties today, and my lunch is waiting.'
A black-garbed cleric moved into sight. He was a short man, potbellied, and wearing an ornate white wig. He bowed to the panel. 'Lords and brothers,' he said, 'I represent the Church in this matter, and have affidavits and depositions to present.'
'The court recognizes Arlin Bedver,' said the bishop. 'Let it be so recorded.' The priest at the furthest end of the table took up a quill and began to write. The bishop leaned forward and stared at Maev Ring. 'The trial is set for—' he began.
‘I appear for the accused,' came a voice, which echoed from the back of the building. The bishop appeared startled. His eyes narrowed. Alterith Shaddler moved past the equally surprised Maev Ring and bowed low before the panel.
'You were not summoned here, schoolmaster,' snapped the bishop.
Alterith opened a leather satchel and produced a sheaf of papers, and an elderly leather-bound volume of Holy Law. 'According to the laws of Church and State - and I have here the relevant documents and texts - any Varlish of good standing, with a degree in Theology, can present himself as an advocate. I also have here copies of my degree from the Academy for the Instruction of the Righteous.'
'You wish to be recorded as a speaker for witches?' asked one of the abbots, a thin, elderly man with a reedy, high-pitched voice.
'As I recal
l, sir, St Persis Albitane began his career by appearing for other saints accused by the Church of the day. He too was derided for speaking up on their behalf.'
The abbot reddened. 'Are you suggesting, sir, that this holy and august panel can be compared to barbarians? Have a care, Master Shaddler.'
'What I am saying, Lord Abbot, is that it is the right of every defendant to have an advocate. Maev Ring is an honest highland woman, accused by men who have much to gain from her downfall. I have my credentials with me. Do you deny me the right to represent her? I urge you to think carefully on this matter, for I also have here a letter which I shall despatch to the church authorities in Varingas, making it clear that, should I be denied, this hearing should be voided as an illegal action. A second letter will be sent to the king's Privy Council charging church leaders in Eldacre with breaking the law of the king himself.'
'You are threatening us?' said the bishop.
'Indeed I am, my lord. I will also petition the Moidart to arrest those who break the king's law. Since the Moidart himself has found Maev Ring innocent of earlier charges I feel sure he will listen most attentively to my plea.'
'This is insufferable!' shouted the bishop. 'I shall have you flogged for your impertinence.'
'May I speak, my lords?' said Arlin Bedver, stepping forward to the table. He leaned close to the bishop and spoke too softly for Maev to hear what was said. The silence grew. Then the bishop waved Bedver back.
'Alterith Shaddler will be recorded as advocate for the witch,' he said. 'The trial is set for—'
'If it please the court,' interrupted Alterith Shaddler, 'I will need at least three days to gather affidavits and depositions to support the defence. Such a right is enshrined in . . .' he drew more papers from his satchel '. . . clause seventeen, paragraph nine of the Church Constitution regarding heresy, sedition, and acts of desecration.'
The bishop flicked a glance to Arlin Bedver and Maev saw him nod agreement.
'The trial is set for three days' time,' said the bishop. 'Do you have any other demands, Mr Shaddler?'
'I would ask, my lord, that Maev Ring be released from custody until the trial.'
'Denied!' The bishop heaved his huge bulk from his seat. 'This hearing is over,' he said. Then he stalked from the dais.
Two guards bearing ornamental lances took Maev Ring away. 'I will come to you presently,' Alterith Shaddler called after her. Then he replaced the papers in his satchel and approached Arlin Bedver. 'I would appreciate sight of your affidavits,' he said.
'Of course, Master Shaddler. They make grim reading.'
'How so?'
'Fifteen of Maev Ring's . . . partners . . . have stated under oath that she cast spells upon them in order to swindle them out of their businesses. The widow of Parsis Feld maintains he was a changed man after Ring came to him. Before that he was a churchgoer and a man steeped in goodness. After they became partners he began consorting with prostitutes, and took to strong drink. The case is enormously strong against her. My advice to you is to urge Maev Ring to plead guilty and to show genuine remorse. The Church will then strip her of her ill-gotten gains, sentence her to a public flogging and then release her. Should she make a vain effort to plead innocence the Church will ask for the full penalty under the law. She will be flogged, and then hanged or burned.'
Alterith looked into the man's dark eyes. 'I wonder, Master Bedver, if you realize that this is a travesty, or whether you genuinely believe this is a case of witchcraft?'
'What I believe - or do not believe - is incidental, Master Shaddler. The Church has brought the case, and I am the appointed advocate for the Church. The depositions and affidavits are here. Please feel free to read them. I shall wait until you have finished.'
Alterith carried the documents to the table so recently vacated by the panel and began to read. What he found there sickened him.
An hour later he was ushered into the cell at the rear of the cathedral. It was not built as a dungeon, but as a bedchamber for priests. There was a bed, and a small table with two wooden chairs, and a lantern was hanging on a wrought iron bracket on the far wall. A small window looked out onto gardens.
'Not so terrible a place,' he said as he entered.
'No,' agreed Maev Ring. Alterith thought she looked tired.
'Are they feeding you well?' he asked.
'Aye, they bring me food. Why are you doing this, schoolteacher?'
'I believe you to be innocent, madam.'
She shrugged. 'What does that matter? Innocent or guilty they will burn me.'
'They have fifteen witnesses who say you bewitched them,' said Alterith. 'I have copied out their names. My understanding is that you have more than twenty partnerships.'
'Twenty-seven.'
'Then at least twelve of your partners refused to condemn you. I shall seek them out and ask them to speak on your behalf at the trial.'
They won't,' said Maev Ring. 'The Varlish will close ranks. They will think of all the money they can claim, the debts they will not need to repay. I wish you had not made them wait another three days.'
'We need that time, madam.'
'I do not need that time. The result is a foregone conclusion. Better to let it reach that conclusion with speed.'
'I don't understand.'
'I don't want Jaim here. Can you understand that? When Parsis died I knew there would be trouble, so I sent Jaim to the north. He will be back within two weeks. It must be concluded before then.’
‘You do not want him to have to watch you die. I understand that.'
She laughed then. 'You don't understand, schoolteacher. My death is written already. I don't want to see him die. We are not talking about an ordinary man here. Jaim Grymauch would walk into the fires of hell to rescue me. He must not be here.'
'I think we are getting ahead of ourselves,' said Alterith. 'The most important matter to focus upon is your innocence, and the proving of that innocence. Now give me the names of all of your business partners. We have three days, and I intend to use that time wisely. I do not share your cynicism, Maev Ring. There will be good men prepared to stand up for the truth.'
Call Jace gazed around the room at his thirty war chiefs, and listened as one by one they reported the progress of the fighting men under their command. Kaelin, sitting across the table from the clan leader, watched him intently. Call had spent an hour with Chara, and when he had returned had questioned Kaelin about her state of mind. Kaelin had little to offer. He told the Rigante leader that she had been withdrawn and hostile for most of the journey. Call's hands had trembled with suppressed fury, and he had spoken of 'taking his vengeance' and killing every Varlish in Black Mountain.
Even now, with the meeting into its second hour, Call's face was still ashen, his eyes angry.
Rayster gave a report on the enemy strengths at both passes. Two thousand men were camped before each. Both forces had twenty cannons. 'If we come out of the mountains,' said Rayster, 'they will cut us to pieces before we get within sword range.'
'What about a night attack?' asked Call.
'Losses would still be enormous. They have fires burning behind each cannon. It would take mere moments for them to haul away the canvas covers on the weapons and set flame to the touch holes.'
'They will have to pull back once winter sets in,' offered another warrior.
'No,' said Call. 'They will not wait for winter. Reinforcements are on their way. Five thousand men of the King's Regiment. Then they will launch a twin assault, blasting away our gates then swarming into the valley. The Dweller tells me that another three thousand beetlebacks are on the southern road heading north. They are the king's troops and coming from as far south as Baracum.'
'The king's troops?' put in Rayster. 'Why would the king seek to destroy us?'
'The murder of Colonel Linax is being attributed to me,' said Call. 'Linax had friends at court. The question is: how do we counter this threat? If we attack we lose. If we defend we also lose - albeit more slowly
.'
There was silence around the table. Kaelin pushed himself to his feet. 'I know that I am not of this clan, though I am Rigante,' he said. 'Might I speak?'
'You have earned that right, boy,' said Call. 'By heaven you have.'
'Then I say we should attack one of their forces. But not through a pass. I came here over the mountains. I could lead a force back the same way during the night. We would emerge from the forest on their unprotected left flank at dawn. All the cannon are pointed at the pass. If the cannoneers were routed or killed there would be nothing to stop our main force coming out of the valley. Then we would have them between hammer and anvil. We would also - if successful - capture twenty cannon, plus powder and shot, and whatever weapons and stores they have.' He sat down.
'The cliffs above the forest are sheer,' said Bael. 'I applaud your skill in bringing Chara over them, but it is far easier to go up than down. And at night? We would lose men, Kaelin.'
‘I agree,' said Rayster. 'Even the thought of such a climb makes my stomach churn. I'll risk dying facing an enemy with a sword in my hand, but to topple from a cliff face in the darkness ... I don't think so.'
'There are a series of ledges,' said Kaelin. 'With enough ropes we can reduce the dangers. But you are both right. Men will likely fall and be dashed to the rocks. If the plan works, however, we will destroy a whole beetleback army. That will demoralize the Varlish, and perhaps make the winter safe for us.'
'How many men would you need in this force?' asked Call Jace.
'At least three hundred,' said Kaelin.
Call Jace glanced down the table to where a powerfully built, middle-aged man had been sitting quietly for the entire meeting. 'What think you, Arik?' he asked.
Arik Ironlatch gave a bleak smile, and rubbed at his greying beard. 'My men are fine climbers, Call Jace. I don't doubt I'd get volunteers for such an enterprise.'
'You think it will work?'
'It will or it won't,' answered Arik with a shrug.
'Are you for it, though?' persisted Call, an edge of irritation in his voice.