Clarion

THE WEAPONS HANGING FROM JONNY IRONFIST'S

belt bumped against his legs as he strode down the pathway toward the large square building that was home to High Elder Alban Brill. Jonny held his cap in his left hand so his knife hand was free; even in this holy place his training shaped his behavior. Strapped to his belt were a dart gun, a heavy wooden battle club and a long-bladed knife. The weapons gave him a sense of self-confidence he had never felt before he became a member of the Sons of God. He was especially proud of the knife, which had been formed out of steel from Vanguard stock—dating it back to High Elder Anson himself.

The stern-faced deacon who had come for Jonny at the dormitory behind the temple wouldn't tell him why he had been asked to come here. But Jonny had heard that the heretics had once again entered the sacred chamber, and escaped under cover of darkness. He couldn't help but wonder if the summons to the High Elder's office was somehow related to that. Rumors were flying among the 121

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brothers that Lord Tern had issued a new proclamation that could help them find and destroy the heretic band.

Jonny stopped for a moment on the pathway to take a deep breath of the cool morning air. He felt a high exhilaration bursting through him, almost the same feeling he'd had when he first learned that he had been chosen to become a Son of God. His fingers unconsciously went to his cheek, touching the deep scar that slanted across his face—a reminder of an admonition from Elder Jacowicz when Jonny had failed to carry out an order precisely as Elder Jacowicz had given it.

But that had happened a long time ago. Jonny had been one of Lord Tern's Sons for three years, and he felt certain that Lord Tern was pleased with his work. He had earned the name Ironfist only three months ago, after he had been personally responsible for bringing four heretics to justice. Elder Jacowicz had hinted that before long Jonny would be promoted to squad leader. He knew that all the brothers looked up to him.

Standing there on the pathway with the sun on his face and a wondrous singing in his blood, Jonny found himself thinking about his friends in Fairhope, and how dull his life would be if he had not been selected for the Sons. His friends would grow up working in the fields or sewing clothes or repairing machinery.

Not that there was anything wrong with that. After all, Fairhope had been established by the Tal Tahir gods to support the Holy Order in its worship of them. That was the only reason the town was there, and its people. But Jonny felt drawn to a much higher mission. Anybody could work the fields or sew cloth, but it required a special kind of person to protect the fundamental precepts of the Holy Order. Fewer than one in fifty were selected for the honor; only those who displayed the special qualities sought by the Holy Order and Lord Tern were selected.

Now he was only a few meters away from the

steps that led to the front porch of High Elder Brill's house. Jonny had never before been allowed to come here. As far as he knew, none of the brothers had ever been invited to this place.

"It must be something really big" Wayne Lightfoot had said when Jonny left the dormitory. Really big, Jonny agreed silently as he went up the walkway to the wide steps. The porch was bordered by trimmed hedges and blooming flowers

—delicate blue and yellow jewel tips. His mother had planted jewel tips around the front door of the little house in Fairhope ...

Jonny felt a slight pang and immediately pushed it away. This was his life now.

A robed deacon stood at each side of the door. Jonny recognized both of them—Deacon Francks and Deacon Bray—but somehow he knew that in this place he could not be so familiar as to call them by name. He went up the steps and strode across the porch to the large wooden door. Keeping his voice strong, he said, "I'm Jonny Ironfist."

"This way," said Deacon Bray, motioning Jonny to follow. He stepped off the porch onto a walkway that led down the side of the building. He stopped at a side entrance, tapped twice, then opened the door and gestured Jonny inside.

Jonny found himself in a large reception room with couches and chairs that he recognized as Vanguard furnishings. A few highly polished sculptures were made from native wood. Jonny had never before been in the presence of such opulence. A pair of large double doors led into another room. Deacon Bray motioned Jonny through with a hint of impatience.

Jonny stopped just inside the room. The doors closed softly behind him. He turned and saw that 124

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Deacon Bray had gone. He turned back with his heart pounding. The room was vast and simple, with polished wood furniture—a desk, a low table, a few finely carved chairs. Dim light came from ancient globes that hung from the ceiling.

High Elder Brill was sitting behind the desk, studying a punch-tube that he held delicately between the forefingers of each hand. Jonny was disappointed to see that the High Elder wore only common clothing—a drably dark shirt and dark trousers. Jonny had seen the High Elder only during the Godsday services, when he wore the bright flaring robe and the high, elaborately decorated crown. The High Elder seemed not to have noticed

Jonny's arrival. His lips moved silently as he rotated the tube between his fingers and squinted at markings that Jonny could see only faintly. His eyes were pale gray, not too different from his skin. Jonny drew a breath in an attempt to calm his thumping heart and advanced as bravely as he could to the desk. The High Elder looked up, and the stem set of his features softened instantly into a friendly smile. He rose quickly and held out both hands. Overcome with awe, Jonny took them in his own.

"The ancient wisdom of the Tal Tahir," said High Elder Brill.

The High Elder's hands were soft and warm. For a moment Jonny was so overwhelmed he forgot the prescribed reply. Then, stumbling slightly over the words: "Is given to the faithful through the great Lord Tern."

"Jonny, my son. I'm glad you could come to see me." The High Elder's parchment face crinkled as his smile broadened. "It makes my old heart swell with pride to see my Sons in their uniforms." Jonny felt the hot blood of pleasure rush to his face. High Elder Brill released his hands and sat down, then waved Jonny to a chair. He lifted a gnarled hand to the shiny metal disk that hung around his neck. Jonny's eyes followed. The Godstone . . .

"We were delivered here long ago," said High Elder Brill. "It was no accident that High Elder Anson brought us to our beloved Clarion. The gods called us here from the great starship Vanguard to be with them, and we must carry out their wishes." His fingers touched the Godstone, setting it in gentle motion. "You know that, don't you, Jonny?" It took Jonny a moment to realize an answer was expected. Somehow he found his voice. "Of course, High Elder Brill. I know of Lord Tern's purpose."

"We are only human, weak and frail. But we must not disappoint Lord Tern." High Elder Brill looked directly at Jonny. Jonny heard the rush of blood in his ears. "Lord Tern and I have been watching you for some time, Jonny. We have recognized your spirit and selfless dedication. Elder Jacowicz tells me that you have a natural ability with the weapons Lord Tern has given us for battle against the heretics, and that even at your young age you have a good understanding of human

nature. He has asked permission to promote you to the rank of squadron leader. I have gladly approved."

// was true\

"Thank you. High Elder—"

"But that isn't the only reason I called you here. We all have a mission. You and I and Lord Tern. Clarion is waiting for us to fulfill our destiny. The great Lord Tern has selected you for a special task, Jonny. You have earned the privilege to serve him." Jonny felt the pressure of the High Elder's eyes on him, but he couldn't take his own eyes off the Godstone. Jonny had never been this close to it before, and he felt its power enfolding him. There was something on the face of it—an engraved 126

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picture he couldn't make out. The Godstone swung freely, aided now and then by a light touch from the High Elder's fingertips.

"This special task will be dangerous," the High Elder went on. "But the rewards will be great. We must cleanse our great Clarion, and purge those who abominate Lord Tern. Lord Tern has ordered it." The High Elder paused, and when he spoke again his voice was deadly calm. "The intruders, Jonny—the ones who came from the purgatory

beyond the Far Peaks. They have defiled the temple. Lord Tern has given special permission for my Sons to search for the heretics in the Holy City, and even to enter the tubes if necessary." Jonny felt an icy chill run through him.

"You are not to fear the Holy City, Jonny. Lord Tern will protect you."

"Yes, High Elder," Jonny said.

"The heretics have taken refuge in a cave beyond the outer edge of the Holy City. They live there like the vermin they are. I want you to take a group of your brothers and go after them, Jonny. Before our sun rises thrice more, I want to see all of the heretics from the cave lined up on the God Wall. Do you understand?"

"Yes, High Elder."

High Elder Brill abruptly released the Godstone.

"You will report to Elder Jacowicz. He will help you form your squad to go after the heretics." The High Elder waved a frail white hand. "Lord Tern's blessing on you, Jonny. Now go."