‘Not news, Your Majesty, only the yield of my long studies. I have read of earthquakes in many other lands, and those studies have allowed me to collect information on them, as a doctor might collect symptoms of an illness he has never himself witnessed.’
‘Then what is your diagnosis, Scholar Rahim?’
Rahim frowned and rubbed an ink-stained hand through his hair. ‘Just as a doctor can never be certain, neither can I, Magnificence. However this quake seems to presage a volcanic eruption.’
‘What volcano?’ asked Assar, looking from general to priest in confusion.
‘He speaks of Meksha’s holy mountain!’ Lurish jerked up in his seat.
Rahim made a devout gesture. ‘My readings indicate Her mountain has not erupted since before the founding of Nooria, General. But these’ – he produced three shiny black stones from his pocket – ‘these can be found around the Blessing, Majesty, and they show us that it has erupted in the past.’
Sarmin took one of the smooth-faced stones and turned it in his hand. Its sharp edges put him in mind of the jewelled dacarba on his belt. ‘Meksha’s mountain is a long journey from Nooria.’
‘It is, Magnificence – but we may nevertheless feel its effects.’ Rahim frowned. ‘There is much disagreement in the scholars’ wing, but some of us believe that an offering of sulphur and bitumen, poured into the mouth of the volcano, may calm its great fires.’
Sarmin returned the stone to the scholar. ‘And you, Scholar Rahim? Do you agree?’
‘I do not, Your Majesty.’ Silence fell around the room.
‘Well then, Rahim,’ said Hazran, ‘how long do we have?’
‘Days, weeks, months – our estimates vary. If you would like to see—’
Lurish made a noise of disgust. ‘We would be better off rolling dice, Magnificence!’
Sarmin ignored him. Gesturing to Rahim he said, ‘You are dismissed.’
As the scholar retreated, Hazran said, ‘I want to hear from someone who does not spend all his days among books and dust. What say you, Dinar?’
Dinar’s ruthless face turned Sarmin’s way. ‘I say Meksha has abandoned us. Uthman conquered this empire and earned Her blessing. Now we have become weak and She withdraws.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘Your Majesty.’
‘There may be something to that.’ Lurish turned towards Hazran. ‘Think of our humiliation in Fryth. Our men came straggling back like beggars! Surely that was enough to anger the gods?’
‘But now we have the traitor,’ said Dinar, his eyes still on Sarmin. ‘His painful death would go far to appease Them.’
Sarmin met his cold eyes. The council might whine and object most of the day, but at the end of it, they listened to Sarmin. Through outright threats to the cutting of necks to gentle nudges, he had forced or eased them to his side – and yet Dinar could easily sway them away, for these were devout men who held Herzu in their hearts. He had to find a way to control the high priest.
Assar of Mirra held up his hands. ‘There is more than one way to please the gods, Magnificence.’
Lurish snorted at that, and Hazran leaned back in his chair, looking pensive.
Sarmin looked at the desert headman. The others resented his presence at the table – Notheen was nothing more than a tribesman from the far reaches of the sand, a barbarian, in their eyes. But Sarmin knew he had wisdom and experience. ‘Notheen?’
Notheen looked at each man in turn, his dark eyes solemn. The words took a long time to come. ‘It is the end times, Magnificence. We live in the era of the Great Storm, which brings the desert to all of us.’
Lurish barked a laugh. ‘Does your savage myth include earthquakes?’
‘Earthquakes, fire, ash and dust,’ answered Notheen in a steady voice.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the table.
Azeem cleared his throat. ‘There is more news, Your Majesty. We have suffered another attack, in another marketplace – this one a fish market.’
Another use of pattern-magic meant that Mogyrk’s wound would grow wider. Sarmin considered this with a cold dread as the other men spoke.
‘The same? With the bodies … turned inside out?’ asked Hazran.
‘Yes.’ Azeem looked down at the parchment he held. ‘Seventeen men and five women.’
Lurish hit his fist upon the table. ‘This is all Mogyrk! All of it! Why do we wait to burn their churches and slaughter them all?’
I suggest you do not make them hate you. Grada’s words. For each Mogyrk worshipper he killed there would be five more to take their place. The struggle against the One God had failed. Sarmin saw Govnan enter through the side door and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I will consider all that has been said here. You are dismissed.’