Her? Here?

  The refugee woman who had begged Eirik for her son's life was transformed. The exhaustion, the desperation, the supplicant's posture – all were gone. Her gaze was fixed on the hovering priestess.

  "Sister Varina. Do you understand what you are doing?"

  The use of the title "Sister" sent a ripple through the remaining templars struggling against the mob.

  Eirik managed to focus through the haze.

  Mara... So that's her power. A Chantress.

  "Sister Mara! I understand! This blasphemous bastard-" Varina gestured towards Eirik, "-is twisting this mob against the Order! I am quelling a rebellion before it consumes everything!"

  "Quelling? Sister, do not disgrace the Order." She swept a hand out, taking in the blood staining the snow, the bodies of pilgrims and templars alike. "Is this your service to the Mother? Take your defeat. Stand down."

  "Defeat? This man defies the Order's judgment! He mocks the Frost Mother's chosen voice!"

  "He outplayed you." Mara corrected. "If you kill him now, in this manner, in front of hundreds of witnesses… what then? These pilgrims saw you descend upon their sanctuary. They saw you pronounce judgment without trial. They saw you torture the man who gave them walls. They saw you murder innocents who dared step between you and your prey."

  Mara pressed the advantage.

  "Every soul here is a witness. To your actions. Actions the High Chantress and the Council trusted you to undertake with wisdom and restraint. Actions meant to preserve faith, not shatter it on the altar of your pride."

  Varina flinched at these words.

  "So. Tell me, Sister Varina. To silence these witnesses… to erase the evidence of this… disgrace… how many must you kill? Will you slaughter the entire crowd? Every pilgrim? Every Talon? Every child?" Her voice was calm. "Is that the wisdom of the Everwinter Peaks? Is that the mercy of the Frost Mother you claim to embody?"

  A gasp went through the crowd.

  "They are a mob!" Varina shrieked. "Cult followers! Blindly worshipping a heretic! They deserve purification! They deserve oblivion for defying the Order!"

  "Deserve?" Mara's voice was sharp. "Who passed the sentence? Was there a trial? By whose laws? By the Order's own Chantings? Where is the evidence of their heresy? Where is the proof of their deserving death?"

  She stepped forward again, now only paces from the hovering Varina.

  "Eirik Stormcrow reclaimed Fort Abercrombie from the Skarls when the Earl's forces could not. He built walls where only ruin stood. He offered sanctuary where the cold claimed lives. On what grounds do you brand him an apostate? What false doctrine has he preached? Show me his blasphemous text! Recite his heretical words! Or is his crime that his power… his manifestation of the Mother's grace… is different?"

  She swept her hand over the crowd.

  "And they? What false teachings have they embraced? What evil deeds have they committed in his name? Have they burned temples? Denounced the Frost Mother? Or did they seek shelter? Warmth? A chance to touch the ice that gave them hope? What heresy justifies this bloodbath, Sister Varina? What grounds do you stand on besides your wounded pride and fear?"

  The fighting had ceased. Templars held their blades uncertainly, staring at their Chantress.

  "He resists!" Varina cried. "He defies the Order's will! He refused submission! That alone is apostasy! That alone warrants his end! Isn't that evil enough?!"

  Mara's response was a sigh of disappointment.

  "What will? The Order did not send you here to quell a rebellion, Sister. It sent you here to understand a miracle. And you have failed. And in doing so, you have judged yourself."

  Rurik Stormcrow saw the tide turning against him.

  No. This couldn't stand. If Varina was broken, then he would shatter Eirik himself.

  "The Voice speaks wisely!" Rurik stepped forward, pointing a finger at Eirik. "But before… before you anoint this man as your martyr-saint… you deserve to know the truth!"

  He spun, addressing the crowd.

  "You kneel to him? You risk your lives for this? Ask yourself what kind of man he is! Ask LEIF FENRIR!"

  All heads swiveled to Leif, who stood frozen beside Olaf.

  Rurik's voice dropped to a hiss.

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  "Yes! Leif Fenrir! Loyal lieutenant! Protector! Ask him what Eirik Stormcrow did to your MOTHER! ISOLDE FENRIR!"

  A gasp. His mother? Isolde? The noblewoman who commanded respect even among the Talons?

  Leif swayed. His eyes, wide with shock and horror, locked onto Eirik. His mouth worked silently. What… the fuck?

  The accusation was so vile it short-circuited his thoughts. The idea of Eirik… with her… in that way… Saying it was 'repulsive' doesn't do it justice. It felt like a desecration.

  He looked to Eirik, needing denial, needing something.

  Rurik pressed his advantage.

  "Yes! While Leif fought and bled for him, while we all faced Skarls and freezing death, this hero was rutting like a beast with the mother of his most loyal follower! Is that the man you defend? Is that your Chosen Vessel? A debauched animal who preys on the mothers of his own men?!"

  The murmurs grew.

  "Enough, Lord Rurik. You bring a serious charge." Mara stepped forward. "The Frost Mother abhors perversion as well as deceit. Let the truth be laid bare, without venom. Under the light of Her justice."

  She raised a hand, palm upturned.

  "Gelu Honestus."

  A sphere of shimmering light blossomed in the air above the center of the courtyard.

  "The Sphere of Truth." Mara announced, "Speak truthfully, or feel the Mother's displeasure."

  Rurik's eyes gleamed with triumph. This was his moment! Eirik had walked right into it! He stepped confidently towards the sphere's light, positioning himself beneath it, facing Eirik across its field.

  "Brother," Rurik purred, his charming mask back in place. "Since you are eager for truth, let us start. Tell the faithful people of Abercrombie, tell your loyal men the truth! While all bear witness!"

  Eirik, breathing hard, pushed himself upright. He met Mara's gaze, then looked at Rurik.

  "I submit myself to it, Sister Mara. Before these witnesses, and the Frost Mother Herself. Let the truth be known." He turned his gaze to Leif. "Leif. Your mother's honor demands it. So does mine."

  Rurik's eyes lit with triumph. He's trapped! The fool walked right into it!

  "Fine! Let the truth burn you, brother!" He stepped closer, within the sphere of the spell's influence.

  "Eirik Stormcrow! Commander! Bastard! Answer me, under the Frost Mother's gaze and Her priestess's spell!" He pointed. "HAVE YOU, OR HAVE YOU NOT BEDDED ISOLDE FENRIR, THE MOTHER OF YOUR LIEUTENANT?!"

  The courtyard held its breath. Leif looked like he might be sick.

  Eirik met Rurik's stare.

  "No."

  A single word.

  The Gelu Honestus pulsed. No backlash. No ripple of pain across Eirik's face. It was the truth.

  The effect was electric.

  Leif slumped, a breath escaping him, relief warring with shock. Not true. Oh, thank the Mother… not true.

  Confusion erupted in the crowd. He said no? Under the spell? But his brother said…

  Rurik's sneer froze, then shattered.

  "W-What? That's impossible! You lie! The spell… it must be flawed! Or you found a way to cheat it! You lying snake!"

  Mara's response was calm.

  "The spell holds, Lord Rurik. The Commander speaks truth. Your accusation is false."

  Eirik didn't give Rurik time to regroup.

  "The truth spell binds us both, brother," he closed the distance. "My turn."

  Rurik took a step back. He could feel the chill of the Gelu Honestus intensifying around him.

  Eirik began.

  "Rurik Stormcrow! Did you, or did you not, come to Abercrombie with the intent to see me imprisoned, stripped of my title as Tenant-Lord of Abercrombie, and my power bound by the Order? And did you pursue this not for the greater good of the North, but for your own power and ambition?"

  The Gelu Honestus pulsed again, pressing down.

  Rurik's face contorted as he tried to form the words.

  "No!" he choked out. "I... I only sought... stability...urghhhhhh—"

  Physical pain lanced through him, sharp, freezing needles jabbing into his tongue. He gasped, doubling over.

  "I... urgh... NO!"

  The pain intensified.

  It felt like his throat constricting with ice. But he tried again:

  "Nnn—!"

  Frost crackled over Rurik's clothes. He gasped, staggering back, a cry of pain ripped from his throat.

  "THE TRUTH, LORD RURIK!" Mara commanded. "THE FROST MOTHER DEMANDS IT!"

  The frost intensified. Rurik screamed and collapsed to his knees. The cold felt like it was freezing his blood, his thoughts. He couldn't hold it anymore.

  "YES!" Rurik shrieked. "YES! I WANTED YOU GONE! BROKEN! YOU TOOK WHAT SHOULD'VE BEEN MINE! YOU ROSE FROM THE MUD AND DARED STAND TALLER! Abercrombie's wealth… your power… it should be MINE! I PLANNED IT! BORIN! VARINA! I MANIPULATED THEM! IT WAS ALL FOR ME! MY POWER! MY GLORY! MY LEGACY UNTAINTED BY YOUR FILTH!"

  His confession echoed in the silence. Varina hovered, unable to look away. Rurik gasped, clawing at the frost on his doublet, the agony lessening as the truth spilled out.

  He glared up at Eirik.

  "BUT IT'S HOW THE GAME IS PLAYED! THE GAME OF THRONES! EVERYONE PLAYS IT! THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH IT!"

  Eirik stared down at his kneeling brother.

  "Oh, you are wrong, brother," he said. "That was how the game's played."

  He turned away from Rurik's form and raised his voice.

  "Talons! Seize Lord Rurik Stormcrow. He stands condemned by his own words, before the Frost Mother and all assembled, of conspiracy, slander, and treason against the rightful lord of Abercrombie. Take him to the cell."

  Olaf was moving before Eirik finished speaking. He grabbed Rurik by the collar, hauling him upright as easily as lifting a sack of grain. Two more Talons moved in.

  The lordling struggled weakly.

  "No! You can't! I am Lord Rurik Stormcrow! Borin! Stop them! VARINA! HELP ME!"

  Borin looked away, studying the snow at his feet. Varina offered no protest.

  "YOU THINK YOU'VE WON?! HE'S NOT EVEN EIRIK! HE'S A MONSTER! A FAKE! HE'S POSSESSED! DON'T TRUST HIM! HE'S NOT MY BROTHER! HE'S SOMETHING ELSE! SOMETHING WRONG! A MONSTER FROM THE ICE!"

  As the Talons began dragging the screaming, kicking Rurik towards the keep's entrance, he twisted his head, spittle flying.

  "HE'S NOT EIRIIIIIIK!"

  His accusation echoed off the ice walls as he was hauled into the tunnel.

  "Sister Varina," Mara's voice cut through the silence. "Are you going to return to the Peaks with me, under your own power, to report your… actions? To face the judgment of the High Chantress and the Council?"

  She gestured towards the trampled snow slicked red, the onlookers, the bodies of pilgrims and templars alike.

  "Or is this going to continue down the path that led us to this slaughter? The hard way?"

  Varina's eyes darted.

  They scanned the sea of faces below her, faces that had once gazed upon her with reverence and now reflected fear and anger. She saw Earl Borin Ironhelm looking like he wanting to be anywhere else. She saw her surviving templars shaken to their core.

  Above it all, the ice statue of the Frost Mother seemed to watch.

  A shudder ran through the Chantress, visible even from the ground. Her shoulders slumped.

  "I..." Varina said finally. "I submit. Sister Mara. Do with me as you will."

  Mara raised her hands.

  "Gelu Vincula."

  Shimmering motes of light coalesced into chains, which wrapped themselves around Varina's wrists and ankles. The intimidating aura of the Chantress vanished. She hit the ground with a thud.