Free Mage's Blood by David Hair Page B

a wave of his hand, he announced: ‘A gift, from The Most Holy Emperor Constant to his beloved people of Noros.’ Everyone leant forward as Vult smiled benevolently and gestured again with his right hand.
    From behind a pillar emerged Malevorn Andevarion, effortlessly regal, bearing the standard of the Noros IX Legion, the beloved ‘Mountain Cats’ of Robler’s command, one of many lost in the Revolt. The people gasped. Malevorn strode to the front, and the congregation first fell silent, gaping, then let loose the biggest, most genuine cheer of the day. Alaron glanced at his father, and this time his cheers were real: Vann Mercer had fought under that very banner. Behind Malevorn came Francis Dorobon with the ‘Silver Hawk’ of the Noros VI, Gron Koll with the Noros III’s ‘Grey Wolf’ and Boron Funt bearing the Noros VIII’s ‘Alpenfleur’. Bringing up the rear, Seth Korion returned to the people of Noros the ‘Waystar’, the banner of Vult’s own Noros II, lost at Lukhazan.
    When the five youths bore the standards outside, onto the steps of the cathedral, the rain and cold were forgotten. The pride of Norostein had been restored; the emperor
did
love them, his loyal subjects. Vann Mercer was crying unashamedly now, as were many of the older men – the veterans, Alaron realised. These were
their
banners.
    Now Vult could do no wrong. The crowd cheered him to the hilt as he joined the banners on the steps of the cathedral, watching as men fought to be first in line for the recruitment stations. A truefestival atmosphere prevailed, though the rain continued to pour down, but no one cared. The five flag-bearing students were caught up in the adulation, and Alaron heard grown-ups calling them ‘our pride’ and ‘the Hope of Noros’, though three of them weren’t Norosborn. Even he and Ramon became minor celebrities for a time as they walked about the square, young men asking them which Legion they would sign for. They stayed a while, but the attention became tiresome and Ramon was getting waspish about this overwhelming display of patriotism. ‘These morons probably got this excited about the Revolt too, and look where that got you,’ he muttered. As soon as they found Vann Mercer in the crowd, they persuaded him to leave.
    ‘Da, what did you think of the governor’s speech?’ Alaron asked as they wound their way home. Tomorrow he and Ramon must be back at college, but tonight they were permitted to stay at home.
    Vann Mercer stroked his chin. He was a tall, strong man still, despite a slight broadening around the midriff as he settled into middle-age. ‘Well, I know what I think. But what about you, son?’
    His father was always telling him to think for himself. Alaron collected his thoughts. ‘Well, Vult said that the emperor loves us – but we revolted just a few years ago, so how can he love us?’
    ‘I bet he loves to collect your taxes,’ put in Ramon.
    ‘You’ve been in Kesh, Da – you’ve always said the people there are a lot like us, and that skin colour has nothing to do with goodness. But Master Fyrell says when two races collide, they fight until one is eradicated. He says it’s a law of nature.’ He wrinkled his nose with distaste.
    ‘Is that the sort of lessons I’m paying for?’ Vann shook his head sadly. ‘What do you think?’
    Alaron thought for a while. ‘Well, even though people say that we got the gnosis from Kore’s hand, we all know it’s really something bestowed by birth, so I don’t know. I’ve not seen many saintly magi,’ he added, thinking of Malevorn and his cronies.
    ‘And gifting the banners back was just a ploy to boost recruitment,’ Ramon said, his lively eyes sparkling. ‘In the last Crusade virtually no one from Noros joined up.’
    ‘So really,’ Alaron decided, ‘it was just a big show to boost enlistment numbers. But Da, why did the emperor decide to send his soldiers over the Bridge in 904 anyway? Wasn’t he making a fortune from