A Burning Sea by Theodore Brun (snow like ashes series TXT) 📗

will be, my lady. Thanks to you. Thanks to both of you.’ He smiled and squeezed Gerutha’s hand in acknowledgement.

One of the doors on the opposite side of the octagonal hall opened, sending an echo around the walls. Three men entered. It took Lilla only a moment to recognize all three. She hurried across the church to meet them.

‘Queen Lilla.’ Leo seemed disarmed by her appearance. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here—’

‘Forgive me, Majesty. But it was too important to delay. And too confidential.’

‘I am outnumbered,’ he chuckled, eyeing all four. ‘Surrounded by barbarians. Should I be afraid?’

‘It’s among your own that you must look to the viper at your breast.’

‘The city is slithering with vipers. I have my protection, as you can see.’

‘I’m not talking about the city. I mean someone far closer to you.’

‘Who?’ he frowned.

‘Lord Katāros.’

And he listened, his face stone, while she told him all she knew. Once she had finished, he stared into empty space and raised an eyebrow. ‘And just what am I to do with this. . . revelation?’

‘Seize him. What else? The man’s a traitor.’

‘On what grounds? Because you and your servant have drawn a link between two otherwise unconnected things? There is no proof against him. All is circumstantial.’

‘As the proof against me was circumstantial?’ she retorted. ‘It was enough to hold me for weeks.’

The emperor grunted. ‘True, I gave him too much licence. But I need more than what you have given me to prove him a traitor. This knife you speak of – even if you had it – how could you connect it with him? I don’t know what knives the man possesses. Do you?’

‘No. Of course, I. . .’ She looked in appeal to Erlan but he could offer her no help.

‘Silanos confessed. So did many others. Am I to think they were all falsely obtained?’

‘If obtained by Katāros, yes!’

‘They’re dead. The whole city saw justice done.’

‘That wasn’t justice. They saw a lie. His lie! Which makes mock of you and justice and all that your precious empire stands for!’

‘And still you have no proof,’ he said.

Lilla had no answer.

‘Look, Queen Lilla, even if you’re right, it’s too late now. The bets are laid. The game has begun. And once this is done –’ he waved his hand at the altar – ‘and if you’re quite finished. . . I have a war to win. Now then, Father. Let’s get on with this.’

Erlan gave Lilla a sympathetic look but it only made her feel more thwarted. ‘We’ll await you outside,’ Erlan said to the emperor.

‘No. You join me. All of you.’

‘But we do not share your faith,’ replied Erlan.

‘Well, you’re fighting for it! And to fight without the blessing of the king of kings would be folly indeed.’

‘The king of kings?’ Erlan for a moment looked bewildered. ‘But you are the king of kings.’

‘Me?’ Leo laughed. ‘Even I don’t have the pretension to call myself that. It is Christ who is the king of kings, my friend, not I. We all stand under him.’

‘Amen,’ said Domnicus. ‘The Christ is Lord of Lords and King of Kings. Captain of the mighty hosts of God. Come, my friends. Let us take our part in him now. We drink his blood and eat his flesh.’

‘His blood?’ echoed Erlan, his voice a whisper. ‘How can you drink the blood of a man long dead?’

‘He is not dead,’ returned Domnicus with an enigmatic smile. ‘He is alive. Come – all is ready,’ and he ushered them forward.

Lilla saw the change in Erlan, the sudden fear, but could not account for it. As if some unseen terror had stricken his heart. Instantly she forgot all her own frustrations. She reached out and touched his hand. ‘Are you all right?’

He shook his head slowly, but answered, ‘Yes.’

‘Approach, friends,’ invited Domnicus, and the emperor was already at the steps of the altar, flicking aside the hem of his cloak to kneel before it.

‘So we do this?’ she whispered in Norse.

‘Aye,’ Erlan murmured uncertainly, but even in the dim light, she saw a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. ‘We do.’

Erlan knelt with the others, fearing at every moment a repeat of that waking nightmare of cascading fire that had broken over him in the Great Church. But nothing like that occurred. The priest was running through his liturgy, and Erlan could only half-hear his words, was only half-listening, saying ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with the others. He felt hot but not burning as before. He was sweating but his wound did not bleed. Instead it was his heart that burned in his chest, his mind untethered from his surroundings, flying from moment to moment through his past – a chain of faces, every one of which he knew. The young spearman on the Norsk fell under a crimson sky; Konur’s arrogant sneer; Inga’s soft beauty, her skin white as winter; his father’s ragged mouth and wretched tears; Kai, one eye a ruin of darkness, blood daubed down his hollow cheek; Adalrik, grey tongue, blue lips; Sigurd’s raging eyes; Vassili’s final smile, ablaze with unearthly light. Death after death after death. . .

He opened his eyes, unwilling to see any more. Instead he looked up at the golden chalice that Domnicus was holding aloft now, reciting some Christian babble over it. It was wine, only wine. There it was in the flask. And yet he felt in him both a fierce curiosity to taste it, and behind that a terror. Desire and repulsion. Love and hate.

Domnicus gave it first to the emperor who took a sip and passed back the cup then bowed his head. After him, Lilla and then Gerutha, and then it was his turn, and he was tipping the cup back, straining against something in him that wanted to smash it on the floor.

Too late, he saw the purple fire flickering on the surface of the liquid in the bottom of the cup, too late it rushed into his open mouth, too