"Harbinger’s End: Herald" Free Preview (chapter fifteen)

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The Circle

Part 4

Crossing the hall quickly, Lessander entered the antechamber and closed the door behind him, taking care to ensure that the clerk was on the other side. From this room only muffled sounds of the rowdy district assembly could be heard.

The antechamber was about seven meters square with a large window on one wall. The furnishings were soft and velvety. In all, the room presented a decidedly elitist atmosphere, a place where the rich and powerful would feel comfortable waiting for their turn to see the governor. Seated in one of the armchairs was the robed woman. A long cowl hid her face. She motioned to a seat on the opposite end of a low table.

“Sit.”

The voice was cracked and barely recognizable as being feminine. Lessander ignored her. “Who are you to pull me away from my legislature? I have important matters that require my personal attention. State your business and be off.”

“You may return to your precious legislature once I have gleaned the information I require. Now sit.”

She could see that Lessander was losing patience. “I don’t have time for your magician’s games,” he snapped. He grabbed hold of the doorknob and tried to leave the room, but the door was jammed.

“Let me out!”

“Not until you’ve told me what I need to know.” The voice was cold, businesslike.

Lessander glared at her. “I warn you: there is a squad of Praetorians outside this door.”

The cloaked woman appeared unfazed. “Shout all you want. They won’t hear you.”

The governor had had enough. He crossed the room in four paces, repeating his demand in a threatening tone.

“Let me out. Now.”

She matched his gaze, rose slowly to her feet, and answered plainly, “No.”

A surge of rage swept through him. In a quick motion, he balled his hand into a fist and swung at her with all his strength. Her reaction was just as sudden as his attack. His fist froze ten centimeters from her face and was held there by an invisible, intractable force. The woman appeared unfazed by his fury. He stared wildly at the hand that was suspended in midair. He was unable to move it — the muscles below his elbow were completely stiff and beyond his control, as if they weren’t even there any more. He struggled madly, but his hand remained fixed in the position in front of her face. She sat back down, watching with mild amusement as Lessander struggled.

“William Lessander, newly elected governor of the Great Sea District. When we heard of your election, we were somewhat surprised. It appears that the reports of your violent temper were not exaggerated.”

His hand was released from its hold, and he stumbled backwards. She motioned to the chair again. “Sit.”

The woman drew back her crimson cowl to reveal a gaunt face with sunken eyes and high cheekbones. Her skin looked like it had been pulled tightly over her skull. Her dark hair was long and thin.

“I am called Quinn. I am a tenth-level member of the Circle. We have questions that demand complete answers. Candor is required.”

Lessander recognized the title. She could see that although his anger hadn’t subsided, he understood that he wasn’t leaving this room until he gave her what she wanted. Nursing the hand that was slowly tingling back to life, he sat in the indicated chair.

“Good. I saw that the Explorer was put to sea this morning.”

“You were there?”

Quinn folded her arms. “I was. Where is it headed?”

The governor furrowed his eyebrows. “Why is the Circle interested in this ship?”

Quinn persisted. “Need I remind you of the charter between the Circle and the Commonwealth? We are granted complete autonomy to operate our programs in all the countries, a freedom which includes cooperation from the local and regional authorities.”

“What do Hansic economic policies have to do with testing babies?”

“That program is one of many we involve ourselves in. I’m not at liberty to justify my presence here to you or anyone else. The charter renewed by your chancellor compels you cooperate with me. Now answer the question.”

Lessander gripped his chair’s armrests so tightly that it looked painful. He appeared ready to throttle Quinn, though they both knew he could never get close enough.

“The Explorer was headed into the midst of the Great Sea,” he said. “This is no secret. Surely you read news pamphlets.”

“I need information that isn’t printed in the news. I want coordinates.”

“There are no specific coordinates. They’re supposed to chart a course due west.”

“What do they expect to find?”

He eyed Quinn suspiciously. “New fisheries… fresh land to mine for resources… perhaps even a safe passage to Ghault. No one knows for sure. That’s why they went out there. To explore. Hence the name of the ship.” This was spoken with apparent sarcasm. The Circle member ignored it.

“When do you expect them to return?”

“They carried supplies for a three-month voyage. Why do you need to know all this? What purpose does this information serve?”

Quinn rose and headed for the door. “Thank you for your candor, Governor Lessander. That will be all.”

Lessander rose as well. “You know what’s out there, don’t you? You know what they’ll find! Tell me!” He tried to grab her arm but he was thrown back across the room by an invisible force.

Quinn turned to face him. Her expression darkened, revealing her first display of emotion since the start of their encounter. “I would advise that you think again the next time you try to assault me or any other Circle member. I have no issue with death, yours or anyone else’s, but to die needlessly would be a waste. As a former military man, I should hope you understand that. Good day, Governor Lessander.”

With that, she opened the door and left. As she departed, she heard Lessander’s clerk scuttle into the room tittering with excitement.

“Great news, your honor! A dispatch just arrived from Hansehaven. Chancellor Hanser is demanding the presence of all the governors in two weeks.”

Quinn paused to listen to the exchange.

Lessander took a deep breath as he picked himself up off the floor. “Why?”

The clerk tittered excitedly. “It’s the Kahanne of Assize. She’s visiting the Hansic Alliance and they want to receive her with full honors!”

Quinn allowed herself a half-smile. There were very few people on Halcyon she disliked as much as the Chieftain, and the Kahanne was one of them.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

Buy Harbinger’s End: Herald in print or ebook for maps, extra material and a preview of Harbinger’s End: The Time of Meeting.

www.halcyonchronicles.com

"Harbinger’s End: Herald" Free Preview (chapter fourteen)

Buy the full book at www.halcyonchronicles.com

The Circle

Part 3

Once the ship disappeared from view, the crowd quieted down and began to disperse. The crimson-robed woman watched Governor Lessander wave absently at the troops on the pier to dismiss them. The regional militia-general who was on hand for the honor guard shouted a command and the soldiers headed for their nearby steeds. Lessander mounted his own animal and the guards formed in around him to escort him to the district keep.

The city of Rugen was built on a steep incline and at its summit lay the home of the governor of the Great Sea District. As they wended their way through the curving streets, merchants and commoners stopped and stared at the escort. Periodically, a break in the tightly packed buildings revealed a glimpse of Lubec, which lay across the River Odra. That city was practically identical to this one and was the seat of power for the regional mayor. They were both densely populated, with two- and three-story buildings crowding the edges of the cobblestone roads. As the main street snaked its way uphill, other arteries branched off at regular intervals. These roads made roughly even circuits around the giant hills upon which the cities were built, giving Rugen and Lubec a layered appearance. Larger intersections tended to boast fountains and small stands of trees, though most of the time the only greenery to be found in either of these cities was in the gardens of the wealthier families who lived near the keeps at the two summits.

The escort continued in silence. Presently they arrived at the keep. It consisted of a large, plain building that functioned as the main audience hall. A single tower stemmed from one end of it, from which an observer could see just past the city and into the surrounding countryside. It also provided a clear view of the River Odra and Lubec on the opposite bank. Three rectangular wings were attached to the main keep, two of which housed the governor’s family and his personal guard. The third one included the kitchen and a mess hall. This was all enclosed by a defensive wall that was two stories high. Surrounding the keep were a handful of large stone buildings that were used as offices for the district government. The district’s Praetorian garrison was also stationed there in a walled compound of its own.

Two bronze plaques on either side of the arched entrance commemorated the keep’s construction. The robed woman kept pace with Lessander’s group, all the while keeping her presence secret, her movements feeling like little more than a passing breeze. She glanced at the plaques as she passed by. Written in Old Ghaultic, the one on the left read: “Completed at the behest of Olaf Fenn Brelinner, Patriot and Separatist, first leader of the city-state of the Great Sea, Year 218 After the Appearance.” The other plaque was written much later in the Hansic dialect: “Strength of the mind derives from a sense of the just; strength of the flesh, from the unjust.”

The robed woman grinned inwardly. Verse ninety-one from Ahenak’s First Codex. What would Olaf Brelinner have thought if he’d known that the words of a man he called ‘murderer’ would one day greet those who entered his keep?

Soldiers from the district garrison kept the mob of petitioners at a distance while the governor and his escort dismounted in the keep’s courtyard. Their steeds were led away while a frenetic clerk rushed to meet them. A little man with a portly physique, he was huffing from a shortage of breath as he bustled his governor inside to open the legislature.

The unseen woman augmented her hearing again so she could listen to the governor’s conversation.

“Sir, representatives from several regions have been awaiting your return.”

Lessander’s tone barely concealed his annoyance. “Let them wait.”

“They’re angry, sir.”

Lessander stared at him impatiently.

The clerk took a step back. “Very angry.”

The militia-general chuckled and led her troops away. The governor walked briskly towards the audience hall with the clerk scurrying along beside him. “We also have important petitions from the masonry, smithy and cobbling guilds. They all seem to be very miffed about the tax issue.”

They entered through a side door to avoid the crowd. Lessander was only half-listening as the clerk continued. “There’s also this written request for a private audience.”

“I don’t have time for private audiences.”

“It says that it’s urgent.”

The clerk thrust a sealed envelope at the governor. Lessander broke the seal, removed the letter and scanned its contents. He stopped abruptly.

“What is it?” asked the clerk.

Lessander looked up. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“Believe what?”

The governor handed him the note. “See what you make of it.”

Lessander entered a door on his right and emerged inside the audience hall. It was spacious, comfortably holding the few hundred petitioners with plenty of room to spare. Windows that were two stories tall lined the sides of the chamber, and sconces with torches were attached to the walls between them for occasions when the light outside was insufficient. Today, the windows let pass a dull white light with streaks of sleet, an adequate reflection of the governor’s mood. Next to Lessander was a ceremonial replica of the chancellor’s throne from Hansehaven. It bore the crests of each of the five formerly independent city-states that negotiated the creation of the Hansic Alliance two centuries earlier. The Hanse’s national crest was displayed above them. An unlit brazier was set beside the right armrest. All this was situated behind a large, raised table. Lessander managed the assembly from here. A dozen meters from the table was a wooden barrier about waist-high.

The robed woman watched discreetly as he moved further into the chamber. A squad of sentries snapped to attention.

Praetorians, mulled the woman, the impartial observers of our realm. 

There were only a dozen of them, but the woman was confident that they could wipe out Lessander’s entire garrison if they wanted to. Their steel armor was heavier than anything found in the Hansic Alliance and they wielded their weapons with deadly efficiency. They were few in number but ferocious in battle, making them the perfect peacekeepers. Every year, thousands of Praetorian hopefuls entered training at Valor’s Keep. Very few became cadets. After that, there was a slim chance that they would have what it took to become actual Praetorians.

The clerk had scurried in ahead of Lessander and he now stood at his governor’s side. He held the note out to his governor. “In all my years of service, I’ve never seen the Circle take an interest in local affairs.”

“What do you think they want?”

“Damned if I know. Usually they’re content with keeping to their tests. I’ve never heard of them demanding a private audience with anyone outside of the highest government circles.”

Lessander considered this for a few moments until the clerk cleared his throat loudly.

Setting aside this unusual request for a private meeting, the governor sighed, “Yes, I know. Bring them in. We’ll begin with the regional administrators and guild representatives.”

The clerk hurried off to an antechamber while two enormous doors at the far end of the hall opened wide. Commoners started to file in, stopping at the waist-high wall. The clerk led the administrators and guild representatives in from a separate entrance to stand before the governor.

The governor rose and silence quickly descended over the assemblage. Lessander waited until the echoes of their mingled conversations faded away before nodding curtly. An aide entered through the same back door that Lessander had used. She was carrying a scepter that lay on a velvet cushion. A cleric wearing an azure outfit followed her. Unlike her counterpart at the pier, this priestess was old and thin, though she shared the shaved head and the pendant. She reached into a pouch that hung from her sash and sprinkled some incense over the brazier. She then lit it and a sweet fragrance disseminated through the chamber. The cleric’s voice resounded clearly.

“We extol the Spirits who dwell in the Forum up on high. May Elren’s wisdom prevail as our guiding principle in this, the nineteenth day of L’Xarmonth of the seven hundred and seventieth year After the Appearance, thirty-first day since the election of our governor, William Lessander. May fortune and justice favor him, and let us say, ‘Amen.’”

Everyone repeated “Amen”. Lessander took the scepter from the waiting clerk and held it aloft. “I hereby declare this day in session.”

As he sat, the chamber came abuzz with life.

Three councilors stepped forward. They were dressed in soft brown leathers with heavy wool vests — a stark contrast to the more fashionable black and grays of the city. 

“Your Honor,” started the one in the middle, “we represent the Rheine area in the Odra’s highland region.”

Lessander smiled politely and was about ask them to continue when the clerk returned puffing frantically. “Sir, the person who requested the private audience is waiting in the antechamber.”

Lessander rose and placed the scepter on his seat. “My apologies, gentlemen and ladies, but this is a pressing matter. We’ll deal with your concerns when I return.” He stepped down and headed for the antechamber.

The robed woman retreated inside and prepared herself.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

Buy Harbinger’s End: Herald in print or ebook for maps, extra material and a preview of Harbinger’s End: The Time of Meeting.

www.halcyonchronicles.com