Free The Right Hand of God by Russell Kirkpatrick Page A

They know me well by now. Nonetheless, their goals and mine are the same for the moment. You want the man destroying Instruere defeated?
    So do I. You want a chance to show the Council your Arrow? I'd like to see their faces when they behold it. Who else can give this to you? Or will you sit here waiting, discarding one plan after another, while people like the foolish woman who just knocked on your door die bleeding in the streets?'
    'Let us hear the man,' Kurr said, and beside him the Haufuth nodded his head. 'Then we can decide what to do.'
    The view from the top of the tower rapidly became truly appalling. Stella watched like an impotent god as The Pinion disgorged guards like ants abandoning an anthill. It was as clear to her as if Tanghin had left a script: a crowd had gathered on the lawn in front of the Hall of Lore, and the Guard were going to put them to the sword. There they were now, circling quietly around the massed group; hundreds of them, lining the shadows. She didn't know who the people were, but she could make out the smaller shapes of children in the flickering torchlight. Her captor often described the enjoyment he derived from the death of children.
    Stella did not want to see him derive any enjoyment this night. She cried out through a dry, swollen throat, but the desperate noises she made were swallowed by the evening breeze, and she knew she could not make herself heard.
    A figure stepped forward from the shadows, a hated figure. Raising his arms, he stood in front of the crowd. Strike him down! Don't let him live! Even if she was to remain chained here as a result, unknown and unregarded until she died of hunger or thirst, it would be a small price to pay for his death, especially if she could witness it.
    By some perverse trick of the wind, his voice drifted up to her, faint but clear. 'Citizens of Instruere! Members of the Ecclesia! You are here tonight to confront the Council of Faltha, to demand their evil be cleansed from this City of God. As your leader, I will deliver your demand to the leader of the Council!' He turned and knocked on the door of the House of Lore, which opened and swallowed him. The crowd moved uneasily.
    The Ecclesia! He is Tanghin - and he is Deorc - and he betrays the Ecclesia to the Instruian Guard! Oh, Most High!
    The door opened, and the figure re-emerged. But it was Deorc, not Tanghin, who stood before the stunned Ecclesia. Dressed in a sable cloak and with a cowl over his head, he lifted his arms high.
    'Hear me, scum of Instruere!' he screamed. 'I am Deorc, leader of the Council of Faltha, keeper of Andratan and servant of the Destroyer, the mortal enemy of all Falthans. I am Tanghin, the usurper of the Ecclesia. 1 am here to declare your doom. The fire will fall on Instruere tonight, and you will be the first to burn!' With that, he lowered his arms and the Instruian Guard streamed out from the shadows, swords raised.
    Stella wept burning tears, her body shaking as grief and pain racked her, even before the slaughter began.

CHAPTER 3
THE MAN FROM SNA VAZTHA

    THE MAN FROM SNA VAZTHA rode his white horse at a measured pace towards the City and the dark cloud that hovered over it. The setting sun illuminated the dense pall of smoke, rays of light spreading through the upper cloud like a vision of paradise, though the flicker of orange and red at the base of the cloud might have heralded the portals of the underworld. The situation in Instruere had obviously deteriorated since the messenger left over two months previously. The man nodded: it was to be expected. Indeed, it was to be welcomed. If things were now in the open, it would make his task much easier.
    The guards at the Longbridge Gate were in a panic, as were their Southbridge counterparts, and had been since mid-morning when word of the happenings in Instruere began to filter out.
    An increasing stream of refugees from the City had, at first, been held at the northern end of the bridge, but as their numbers