‘A rousing cheer greeted us as we entered, the assembled silversaints and initiates clunking tankards on tabletops. It wasn’t often a new member was set to be sworn into the Order, nor so many of us assembled in San Michon at one time. Older ’saints offered Aaron congratulations; younger bucks gathered to get a glimpse of his new ink. Frère Alonso was playing a merry tune on a set of pipes. Abbot Khalid accompanied him on a beautiful bloodwood lute, with Forgemaster Argyle leading the song in his rich baritone. And though Greyhand was conspicuously absent, Seraph Talon was thumping the table with his ashwood switch, keeping time. He even smiled at us as we entered.
‘Baptiste had saved us seats at table, beckoning us over. As we sat, the young smithy pushed a cup of vodka my way. But as ever, I demurred. “Not for me, Brother. Merci.”
‘“Oh, come now!” the blackthumb insisted. “Puts hairs on your chest! And it’s not every day we see a new member of the Order ascend! One drink won’t kill you?”
‘“He has his reasons.” De Coste spoke soft, taking the cup away. “Leave it, eh?”
‘I looked between Aaron and Baptiste, the Brothers around me. The fires were warm and the smiles wide, and I knew a night like this came not often to walls like these. I’d grown up the son of a drunkard. But in truth, I wasn’t even Raphael Castia’s son. And the curse my true father had given me wouldn’t be ignited by a mouthful of spirits.
‘“One drink,” I declared, reaching for the cup Baptiste had poured. “Won’t kill me.”
‘Baptiste cheered, and I raised the cup to Aaron. But before I could offer toast, there came a loud thumping from the head table. Frère Alonso stilled his music, all eyes turning towards Abbot Khalid. The big Sūdhaemi was on his feet, smiling.
‘“Tomorrow, we welcome a full-fledged Brother to the Ordo Argent!”
‘Roars rang around the room as Khalid continued.
‘“Then, we march to Avinbourg among the Emperor’s armies, there to lay the Forever King to rest. I know each of you shall acquit yourselves with strength undying and faith unquenchable, and prove San Michon worthy of our Empress’s patronage. But for now, let us toast our new brother, and know glory in the light of the Almighty’s love.”
‘Khalid raised his cup to Aaron.
‘“Santé, Aaron de Coste. May the dark know your name and despair!”
‘“Santé!” came the roar, Aaron grinning like a child at Firstmas.
‘We feasted into the night, and when Baptiste poured me another cup, I didn’t turn it away. The drink was fine and the company grand, and I floated around, listening to the older ’saints tell stories of dark and blood and silver. I felt the love of God among that fellowship. I felt, for perhaps the first time in my life, I was finally where I belonged.
‘It was then we heard horns in the Mère Valley, bringing stillness to the hall. A few moments later, the Cathedral bells sang out in answer, echoing across the monastery.
‘“She’s early,” Baptiste murmured.
‘“Empress Isabella,” I realized.
‘The brothers and initiates rose as one, bustling out of the refectory. The honour that the Empress did us was lost on nobody, and all wanted to bear witness to her arrival, see the army she’d brought to San Michon. Gathering on the Cathedral walkway, we heard them in the dark – tromping feet and steel on steel, a great multitude in the night-black valley below. We could see thousands of torches, illuminating thousands of yellow tabards bearing the unicorn of Alexandre III. A host the likes of which I’d never seen.
‘“Now there’s a fucken’ sight,” Fincher sighed.
‘De Séverin nodded. “On golden banners, salvation comes.”
‘“Brothers!” Khalid called. “Prepare yourselves for Her Majesty’s arrival, then assemble in the Great Library! Seraph Talon, Prioress Charlotte, with me.”
‘With some a little worse for drink, the brethren obeyed, the feast abandoned. Within the half hour, we were mustered in the Library, lined up with boots polished and silversteel gleaming. The Sorority was assembled also, sisters in their blacks, novices in white. I saw Astrid among them, lips pinched tight. Chloe stood beside her, nodding once to me. But looking about, I still saw no sign of Master Greyhand anywhere.
‘The books stretched high above us, the great map of the realm at our feet. Archivist Adamo had arrayed wooden figures across the floor, representing the armies of the Forever King, the defenders of Avinbourg, and the great host mustering below.
‘The impending battle was now on everyone’s mind, and talk of it rippled among the gathering. But we fell silent as Abbot Khalid entered, marching swift to the front of the Library, Talon and Charlotte beside him. A brisk young man in courtly yellow satin entered, and beat a poleaxe upon the boards three times.
‘“Her Imperial Majesty, Isabella, First of Her Name, beloved bride of Alexandre III, Protector of God’s Holy Church, Sword of the Faith and Emperor of all Elidaen!”’
Gabriel shook his head.
‘I’d never seen royalty. The way Astrid told it, Alexandre’s court was a cesspit, filled with debauchery and corruption. I’d not have been surprised if the Empress was a serpent in a dress of human skin. But the woman who swept into the Library was nothing close.
‘First, I was astonished at how young she was. Emperor Alexandre was in his middle-forties, but his bride must have been twenty years younger; only a few years older than Astrid, really. She was beautiful to be sure: long-limbed and graceful, with auburn hair styled atop her head in the seeming of a crown. But beauty was to be expected in an empress. What I didn’t count on was her manner of dress. For though she wore a gown of royal yellow, crushed velvet rippling to the ground in waves, she was also clad in a breastplate of polished silver, and she wore a sword at her side. The weapon was more decorative than deadly, but her message was plain.
‘Our Empress had come to San Michon dressed for war.
‘She was surrounded by men and maids-at-arms, clad in the sunflower yellow tabards of the Emperor. On Isabella’s brow sat a circlet of diamonds, and as she took her place at the front of the room, she looked over us with regal pride.
‘“Our road has been long,” she said, her voice low and sweet. “But our heart could not be filled with more joy to find so fine a company at the end of it. Deep is the faith we have bestowed upon your abbot, and we see it has not been misplaced. For in each of you, we see a hope that shines with the light of all God’s grace, and through you, shall this land be redeemed from encroaching night. You have our thanks. And more, you have our love.”
‘Isabella gazed about the room, and you could have heard tears falling from an angel’s eyes in that stillness.
‘“We salute you, Silversaints. May God bless you and keep you safe from all harm.”
‘“Three cheers for Her Imperial Majesty!” Seraph Talon cried.
‘A roar echoed in the Library, louder than I’d ever heard. Isabella had spoken for all of a minute, and I swear God half the men in that hall were in love with her. If she had bid us fly to Vellene and throw ourselves at the Forever King with naught but empty fists, we’d have leapt from the walls with smiles on our faces.