Surrender to the will of the night

17. Brothe: Brief Idyll

Piper Hecht’s return to the Mother City was uncomfortable for everyone. A thousand men accompanied him, men who did not want to work for Pinkus Ghort. Some Brothens wanted to celebrate their coming. Most did not want to attract the attention of the new Patriarch. Serenity’s cronies wanted to shut the gates but did not have the popular support. Hecht had strong backers in the Collegium. Serenity did not, to his abiding mystification.

The moment the Interregnum ended Serenity started swinging Mother Church back to the course long steered by Sublime V. No surprise to Hecht, but a shock to most Brothens, including several Principat?s who had taken bribes to vote for him.

Bronte Doneto had done well pretending religious indifference when he lacked the power to enforce his convictions. Now he owned that power. Now he could feed the rage that had festered since the Connec humiliated and nearly killed him.

“I’m not comfortable,” Titus Consent said. While coming off the Blendine Bridge, watching Brotherhood members turn upstream toward their Castella dollas Pontellas. Leaving the former Captain-General without his lifeguard.

“As they tell us, be careful what we wish for.”

“Yes?”

“I resented every minute that Madouc was underfoot. Now he’s not.”

More than a hundred men did remain with them, headed the same direction. “We’ll be good for now. Later, maybe not so much.”

“Uhm. Pella. Stick close.”

A mile on, nearing their own neighborhood, with only a handful of friends close by now, Titus asked, “Made a firm decision yet?”

“What?” Hecht had been daydreaming about Anna. And the girls. Then, bemused, reflected that his true home and family were somewhere in the slums of al-Qarn. Possibly. What horrors might time, poverty, disease, Gordimer, and er-Rashal have worked there?

“About what’s next. You going to buy that vineyard? Or become Empress Katrin’s war tiger?”

“Oh. No you don’t. I’m not deciding anything now. It’s time for some plain old lazy drifting.”

Titus just smiled. He knew. The decision had been made, though Hecht’s motivations might not be clear. Even to Hecht himself.

The former Captain-General meant to head north, out of the Patriarchal States, possibly forever.

News of their coming had run ahead. Anna and the girls were out, waiting with No? Consent and her brood. And with Heris. The Consents left immediately. Hecht went into Anna’s house. He had one answer for all of the first dozen questions. “I’m tired. I’m exhausted. Later.”

Pella took up the slack. He had plenty to say. And was disappointed when Anna and the girls did not share his enthusiasm for falcon warfare.

Again, “I’m so tired. I just want to vegetate. I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to do anything.” That directed to Heris, who had hinted already that Principat? Delari wanted to see him. “Brothe and everybody got along fine without me. And can keep right on doing without me. Anna. Stop scurrying around. Come over here. Sit by me. Let me drink you in.”

Anna did so, managing to blush.

Leaning against her, sleepily, Hecht considered Lila and Vali. “What’s happened with the girls? Other than Vali filling out and both of them wearing better clothes?”

“School. The nuns on the girls’ side of Gray Friars.”

“Uhm?” A questioning grunt that Anna interpreted correctly. How had she managed to get two girls of questionable antecedents into so exclusive an academy?

“Your name and Principat? Delari’s. Plus a surprise legacy from Hugo Mongoz.”

“Hugo Mongoz? But…”

“Not money. Influence. Bellicose found a letter among his papers. Instruction to an illegitimate grandson that didn’t get sent before he died. In it he claimed he owed you a big debt. Not saying why. He wanted the grandson to repay you. The grandson is a monk at Gray Friars. So there you go.”

“Oh. I guess that’s good. Heris. Heris?”

Vali looked past Pella, said, “She did that turn sideways trick, Dad.”

Lila said, “I wish I could learn how to do that. I’d get rich.”

Anna told her, “You are rich. Your father has gathered up more prize money than the rest of us can spend in three lifetimes.”

Hecht laughed. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“What are you going to spend it on? And none of your nonsense about vineyards and latifundia. What you know about agricultural management I could tuck into a thimble with room left over.”

“You think? I’d surprise you, heart of my heart. I spent a long time in prison in Plemenza. The only way to pass the time was read old texts about farming.”

That gave Anna pause for scarcely an instant. “Which means nothing, practically. You’ll never be a farmer.”

“You could be right. We need to talk about that. But not now. I just want to wallow in the luxury of having no demands on me.”

“Oh, there are going to be demands. But first you’re going to have a long wallow in hot, soapy water.”

The girls had Anna’s big copper bathing tub set up already, with water heating. Anna would not use the public baths. Nor would she let the children. A safety measure, that. She said. But Hecht suspected there was more to the story. She would not discuss it. It was not worth a squabble.

Settled in the tub, with females dumping warm water and Pella contemplating making a break for it, to avoid being next, Hecht observed, “The one thing I’ll miss, being on the outside, is the baths at the Chiaro Palace.”

“Really?” Anna asked.

“And there you go, letting your imagination get loose. The rumors aren’t true. Nothing ever happens there.”

“Really?” Again.

Hecht shrugged. “Don’t let me confuse you with facts.”

Heris turned up every day. She had little to say and did not press. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready. I just come down to see if you are. There isn’t anything crucial. Yet.”

But Heris and Principat? Delari were not the only people who wanted a slice of the former Captain-General. Representatives from members of the Collegium, from most of the Five Families, from the Castella, and from the Imperial embassy at the Penital, all turned up during Hecht’s first four days at home.

Only Titus Consent and his tribe were allowed in. And Heris, who could not be turned away at the door.

“You’ve started getting restless,” Anna observed. Voice carefully neutral. At a time when she thought the children would be occupied.

“Titus tells me I never learned how to relax.”

“Titus is outrageously smart, for his age. So. Is it time to talk?”

“I suppose.” He had been puzzling how to put it all together for her. “The Empress wants me to come work for her.”

“To help her fulfill a holy obligation. By leading an Imperial crusade into the Holy Lands. I know. That may be the worst kept secret of the age. It was all over Brothe within hours of the announcement that Bronte Doneto would become the next Patriarch. The Penital put it out. Doneto was upset. Pinkus sent some of his trusted men to look out for us. Not that he would brag about looking out for a friend. He was afraid Doneto might do something stupid.”

Hecht grunted. Ghort had not said a word. But that was Pinkus Ghort. Never say anything when he did something someone might construe as good or thoughtful. He did not want to tarnish his black reputation. “He’d know if the danger was real.” Hecht eyed Anna curiously. Why had she kept this to herself till now? Was she hoping the question of taking service with the Empress would go away?

Probably.

“It turned out to be a tempest in a teapot. Pinkus pulled his men out after Principat? Delari dropped a few one-ton hints on the right people.”

That sounded like something Heris would say. After rehearsing before she said anything.

“Muniero Delari and Bronte Doneto have a bitter history. Which I’m not free to discuss. I suspect Doneto will avoid reviving old quarrels now that he has his dream job. Delari is older than stone. Doneto can let time put an end to their squabble.”

“Piper, I won’t follow you if you go to Alten Weinberg.”

And there it was. Not unexpected but not understood. Despite having given the possibility plenty of brooding.

“You know we’ve only actually spent a few weeks together over the years we’ve been a couple.”

Was that question or statement? Whichever, she was exaggerating. Sort of. He did not say. Because there was a deep truth, down under.

“You’re always in the field. If I move I still won’t see you. And I won’t know anyone but the girls. Nor even speak the language. So I’ll just stay here and not see you because you’re in the field.”

“I’m not really going to lead a crusade into the Holy Lands. I’ll get the Empress to change her mind.”

“No doubt. You can do anything. You have a knack for getting people to do what you want. But, once all is said and done, you’ll be in the field. That’s who you are. So, as I said, I’ll stay here, where I’m comfortable, and only see you once in a while. I won’t have to upset the way I live.”

Hecht clamped down on his emotions. Stilled his inclination to pull male rank. He did not own that in this relationship, in this country. Irritably, he batted thoughts of Helspeth aside. This was not an opportunity. “I see.” He sensed the children lurking, out of sight but not out of hearing.

“I freely admit that I have more than most wives and many mistresses. Which leaves me too spoiled, besides being too long in the tooth, to take up the life of a camp follower.”

“I won’t argue. I can’t. You’ve put it perfectly. I am what I am and you, more than anyone, know the truth of that. But I did think Alten Weinberg might be more domestic.”

Anna definitely had an answer for that. She did not get the opportunity to deliver it. Heris turned around out of nowhere on the far side of the room. “You have to come this time, Piper. Things have happened. Supper. Anna. Grandfather would really be pleased to see the children, too.” She turned and was gone.

Anna caught her breath. “That was a polite invite to a command performance.”

“Yes?”

“You might say Heris and I have become friends. The way she carried herself… Our discussion might be moot.”

Again Hecht offered only an interrogative monosyllable.

“We have to see Principat? Delari before we make any other plans.”

A premonitory chill crawled Hecht’s back. His own desires could become so much chaff in the breeze should the Night be driving down some rigorous line of its own.

The Delari town house was in the throes of a dramatic makeover. Not just repairs to damage but a total renovation. The staff had expanded by a dozen, all hard-eyed rogues who were as alert as ever Madouc’s gang had been. Each hailed from the Principat?’s own clan. Which made them kin of Muniero Delari’s grandchildren.

Supper was served at the usual table by the usual servants, Turking and Felske. As the first course arrived, Delari explained, “Everything changed when Bronte Donte achieved his ambition. I expect him to resurrect the conflict that brought us head-to-head not so long ago.”

He said this in front of Anna and the children. Who looked to Hecht for an explanation. Hecht did not deliver.

He did say, “Two of us got you out of that. Whatever became of the other one?”

“Armand? I don’t know. The little weasel vanished seconds after Hugo Mongoz expired. I suppose it’s too much to hope that Doneto’s partisans did away with him.”

“What’s the construction all about?” Hecht asked. “What’s going on?”

“Forting up.”

“I get that. But what about us, here? This isn’t just me and the family stopping in for a friendly supper. You look almost guilty. Which tells me there’s something going on. Heris implied as much, the way she acted. Where is she, anyway?”

“She’ll be here any minute.”

Turking and Felske brought the courses with a noteworthy absence of enthusiasm. As though they were stalling.

Heris came in, roughly dressed. Turking and Felske hustled in the small courses she had missed. Even Mrs. Creedon took a moment to bring her a single marinated cheese and onion-stuffed mushroom. Heris grunted pleasure and dug in. Evidently her story would be shared only if necessary.

Principat? Delari became taciturn, his contribution to table talk vague questions for the girls about their progress at school. To which Lila was the unexpectedly enthusiastic respondent. She found intellectual pursuits more interesting than did Vali. Hecht was surprised.

People never stopped not being what you expected.

Turking and Felske came to life. In a trice they produced the clutter of another place setting as Cloven Februaren dragged in.

Hecht observed, “Borrowing from my friend Pinkus, you look like death on a stick.”

“No doubt.” Cloven Februaren did look like he had suffered extreme starvation.

Delari said, “He’s the picture of health, now. You should’ve seen him this morning. I thought his story was over.”

The Ninth Unknown settled. He picked at his food, ferociously. He made Vali and Lila uncomfortable. Anna needed to release those girls into the wild. They needed re-exposure to reality. They had developed amnesia about their own early romances with the harsh side. Februaren said, “I spent a night in Elf Hill. It was worse than any of the stories.”

Hecht said, “I don’t get it.”

Delari said, “You should. It’s part of the northern thing. Up there people believe that we share the world with lots of other races. The Hidden Folk, collectively. Pixies. Brownies. The Fair Folk. Light elves and dark elves. Goblins, dwarves, the People of the Sea. And dozens more.”

“Not to mention the evil dead,” Februaren grumped.

Delari ignored him. “The Hidden Folk get up to all sorts of mischief. Some good, some bad, according to their nature. More bad than good, of course. A favorite trick is to lure a mortal into their realm, where time passes differently.”

“Usually a lot slower over there,” Februaren said. “In the Realm of the Gods it was the other way around. I used up all my food and was starving. It’s true about the food, too. It helped me forget I was hungry but it didn’t provide enough nourishment.”

Delari said, “The point is, while he was there for months only a few days passed here.”

“So you did what you went off to do. You released the…”

“I did not. Not even close. The Old Ones are locked up like olives inside a cask closed inside a sealed barrel. My success amounted to opening the way between the middle world and the Realm of the Gods. This being what those involved with the northern thing call the middle world. Because of where it stands in relation to the other worlds involved in their concept of the universe. Oh. Success number two. I talked the Aelen Kofer into helping break the Old Ones out.”

Hecht resisted a conditioned response, reminding himself, yet again, that all beliefs were true inside the Night.

The children had grown bored. The Ninth Unknown had not described his adventure in epic terms. Which was a little out of character.

Februaren said, “After all that positive news you just know there’s got to be a catch.”

Principat? Delari seemed to be hearing all this for the first time, too. “Grandfather. Please.”

Februaren’s grin was a ghost of itself. “All right. Time is important. The way is open. The magic is flowing in. The Aelen Kofer can rebuild the rainbow bridge to the Great Sky Fortress. We can get that far.”

“But?” Delari, with a scowl.

“But the Windwalker is on his way. And we can’t get inside. Only someone with the blood of the Old Ones can crack the last barrier.”

Delari said, “And those of the blood are all inside.”

“Basically. I thought the ascendant could manage. He has chunks of the knowledge of Ordnan and Arlensul. And he shut them in. It seemed logical that he could undo what he did.”

“But not so,” Delari guessed.

“No. He did the job too damned good. And there is some mythological imperative at work. One even a freethinker like me, because I spent my life immersed in Brothen Episcopal Chaldarean culture, can’t get to make sense. What it comes down to is, if we’re going to spring the Old Ones so they can stop the Windwalker, we need someone of their blood to kick down the door.”

Anna startled everyone by chiming in. “From what I’ve heard, the male Old Ones doinked every farmer’s and woodcutter’s daughter they ran into when they visited our world.”

“It would be hard to find those descendants,” Delari said. “They haven’t done that sort of thing for four hundred years. The blood would be pretty thin.”

Februaren said, “There’s another option. According to the ascendant.”

“Gedanke,” Hecht guessed, wondering why he even recalled that name. Was he damned eternally because he had acquired that kind of wicked knowledge?

“Right road.” Februaren was startled. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess. That and the fact that most of what happened below the walls of al-Khazen had to do with the feud between the Banished and her father, over Gedanke.”

“Most of what happened had to do with the hunger of the Old Ones for the blood of the Godslayer. Arlensul took the opportunity to get revenge. Also, Gedanke was Arlensul’s lover. Not the child they created. The ascendant says Gedanke himself was there for the showdown. As one of the undead heroes. Which gave Arlensul added incentive in the fight.”

No one said anything. Hecht wondered why Februaren chose to discuss this over dinner. In the normal course, it would await withdrawal to the quiet room. He began peering into shadows and watching Turking and Felske closely.

The Ninth Unknown recognized the moment realization struck. He grinned, nodded, said, “The part of Arlensul the ascendant incorporated offered very useful information about her half-mortal bastard. She did her best to watch over him. He was still alive at the moment of her own demise.”

“That should narrow the search. There can’t be many men who have been around longer than you and who show the occasional burst of divine power. He would have some of that, wouldn’t he?”

“Excellent, Piper. He would, yes. But, chances are, he doesn’t know what he is. His mother never told him. He never saw her. He should think he’s just a very strange orphan.”

Principat? Delari interjected, “He’d have to suspect. If he had any familiarity with the mythology. If you grew up in that part of the world, were an orphan, had unusual abilities, and seemed to be immortal, wouldn’t you suspect something?”

“Of course, Muno. As far as I know-the Arlensul part of the ascendant isn’t completely forthcoming-the bastard should be a long-lived peasant or woodcutter somewhere in the northeastern part of the Grail Empire. The infant was abandoned in the sacristy of a forest church in the Harlz Mountains of Marhorva, a hundred miles from Grumbrag.”

Anna asked, “Could he be the one pretending to be Piper’s brother?”

Cloven Februaren chuckled, made a sign indicating that subject ought not to be pursued. Hecht asked, “And you know all this because?”

“Because the ascendant knows most of what the mother knew. Though she couldn’t provide any help locating him today. Or wouldn’t.”

“Meaning?”

“Even in severely reduced circumstances the Banished’s personality is still alive and independent. A tiny fraction, but the essence of who and what she was.”

Delari said, “Easy work now, Grandfather. Just pop up to that rustic church and work your way out in a spiral search, asking each man you meet if he’s four hundred years old. When you get an affirmative, you’ve found your half-blood god.”

“An ingenious strategy, Muno. Piper, the boy always did have a knack for slashing through the fog around the core. Though I have in mind a simpler, faster methodology.”

Anna offered, “A man who’s been around that long did things to hide his age. If he didn’t he’d have every aging petty lord after his secret.”

“Or people would want to drive stakes through his heart,” Heris suggested.

Hecht asked, “Could he be the source of vampire legends?”

The Ninth Unknown replied, “Vampires are the source of vampire legends. Things of the Night with a taste for blood.” Februaren pointed at Anna. “The young lady is as smart as she is beautiful. No. I daren’t say that. That would declare her a goddess. Let’s just stipulate that she’s smart. Concealing his longevity would be a serious problem.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sir.”

“I wish. Piper? You look like you just bit into an unexpected pit. If my wordplay offends you, tell me to go to hell. I’ll take it back.”

“So, go to hell, old man.” He chuckled. “No. You just stated the facts. She is all that. But I had a thought. A place to start looking. That doesn’t force you to go all the way back to a church that probably doesn’t exist anymore.” He laid his finger across his lips. He did not want to carry on here. The old men were hamming it up for eavesdroppers, be they shadow or human. Every household had a servant or relation who did not mind picking up the occasional extra ducat by contributing to the informational black market.

Principat? Delari, “We’ll talk about it over coffee, then. Now, children, you’ve been quiet as snakes. Why don’t you girls tell me about the Gray Friars? And Pella can tell me about his adventures with Piper. They tell me you’ve fallen in love with the falcons, lad.”

Encouraged, coaxed, the children came forward with a few details of their own lives. Bits innocuous enough to be shared with the old folks.

Heris stood. She had eaten rapidly and heartily. “I’m full. I’ll go help Cook get the coffee service ready.”

The youngsters soon talked themselves out. Hecht told Februaren, “Regale them with tales of your adventures in the lands of the gods.” Pella, at least, should be interested in a fairy-tale realm that was mostly real.

The Ninth Unknown did regale, employing outrageous exaggerations, sounds, and distinct voices for his characters. He made Korban Jarneyn sound like a dimwit old gorilla. Even Hecht enjoyed the show.

“I hope you were just trying to make your ordeal more entertaining,” Hecht told Februaren as he accepted coffee from Heris.

“I took some of the grim out, so they wouldn’t be too upset, but that was the way it was. They ate the shark, too.”

Principat? Delari wondered aloud, “Why do I find myself doubting you, Grandfather?”

“Because you’re such a tightass, Muno. You always were. You don’t have an ounce of wonder in your soul.”

“Likely not. I’ve always been too busy picking up after you and trying to hold it all together.”

Heris snapped, “Will you old people stop? Piper had a reason for wanting to talk in here. Since you were so blatant about that burlesque downstairs. Get on with it. Before us being hidden has your spies wondering what’s really going on.”

“She’s right.” Februaren sighed. “And I was just getting warmed up. Definitely a chunk off the Grade Drocker block. Looks like he did at the same age, too.”

“Stop!” Hecht growled. “That’s enough. Cloven Februaren. You said you had a plan for rooting out the missing bastard, fast. What is it? Tell us, then I’ll explain why I wanted us all in here.”

“Another chunk off the Drocker rock. No patience. All right, Piper. The scheme is simplicity itself. The new Patriarch, our beloved Bronte Doneto who happens to be the most powerful sorcerer to assume the ermine in two centuries, has his Instrumentality minions all over you and Muno. I let them hear all sorts of intriguing stuff downstairs. As a result, a very nervous Serenity ought to unleash the whole power of the Church on the problem of Arlensul’s bastard.”

“Why? He shouldn’t really care.”

“Wrong. Well, maybe if he knew the whole story. What he’s been allowed to know will compel him to care.”

“Do take the trouble to explain.”

“Key point. He’s just found out that I’m still alive. That will rattle him badly. At the same time he’ll learn that there’s absolute, concrete proof that his religious vision remains incompletely triumphant. That the Old Ones, while no longer seen, are still alive. They survive in the imaginations of hundreds of thousands of rural people who attend church on all the appropriate days, then hedge their bets by following the ancient rituals when those are due. More, the Old Ones will need to be awakened and strengthened if the world isn’t to be crushed beneath the hooves of even older and darker Instrumentalities.”

Hecht said, “You may have lost me. I understand every sentence. Individually. But how do they all connect up in a way that helps us find our missing half-god?”

“Blood simple, Piper. Blood simple. Listen to what I say. I scare the crap out of Serenity by being alive. I terrify him by being eager to find Arlensul’s pup. He’s already scared Muno will make his life difficult. So he panics. And deploys all the resources of the Church to find our man for me.”

“Clever. But you might have outsmarted yourself. Look. The reason I wanted to talk in here is so I could tell you to look at Ferris Renfrow. We tried to investigate him when we were in Alten Weinberg. We didn’t find much but some odd facts did surface.”

“Such as?”

“He wasn’t well known before Johannes but somebody with the same name has been connected with most of the Emperors since the Grail Empire was founded. Today’s Ferris Renfrow claims all those other Renfrows are his ancestors. But we couldn’t find anybody who ever heard of any of the Renfrows being married. Or otherwise involved with any human being, male or female.”

“That would be unusual.”

“He does odd things, too.” Hecht repeated what he had heard about Renfrow presenting an apparent eyewitness account of the Battle of Los Naves de los Fantas to Empress Katrin the evening of the battle.

That got some attention. First in the form of denial, mostly by the Principat?. “He must have used Night things to observe the action and report back. Nobody walks the Construct but Grandfather. And Heris, now. We don’t teach anyone. We don’t tell anyone. Even the monks and nuns down there don’t know what it really does.”

Cloven Februaren was not so certain. “Someone else could have come up with a Construct of their own.” The ancient fell into a brooding silence, clearly trying to remember something.

Heris said, “If he’s a half-god and near-immortal he might not need a Construct. When was the bastard born? How long ago?”

No one knew. The child was mythical. Februaren grumbled, “At least four hundred years. Probably more.”

Hecht said, “You have an eyewitness. A participant. Inside the ascendant.”

“Who couldn’t say. Arlensul never developed any skill at grasping a place in time in the middle world. A common failing of the Night. Which has kept you alive. So far.”

Hecht said, “Whatever else, Renfrow is a place to start. Even if he isn’t our man he might know where to look.”

The Ninth Unknown blurted, “I’ve got it! When I was a boy! Younger than Pella. The Sixth Unknown was in charge. The Construct was primitive back then. But we did get more support from the Collegium… You wouldn’t have recognized it…”

“Grandfather! Did you have a point?”

“Oh. Sure. There was a brother who worked on the project. Something was wrong about him. Beyond being just plain creepy. A lot of brothers, especially ascetics and monks, are natural-born creepy. It has to do with the kind of personality that’s attracted to the life…”

“Grandfather.”

“Yes. Creepy. I told my father and grandfather and his father. None of them wanted to hear it. He worked hard and didn’t do anything heinous in public. And he definitely had a talent for the work.”

Hecht said, “And his name was Brother Ferris.”

“No. It was Brother Lester. Lester… Temagat! That’s it. Temagat. He was way more interested in the Construct than anyone I’ve ever seen. Including Muno. But maybe excepting Heris. Heris is in there like a fish trying out water.”

“I have plans, ancestor.”

“Temagat disappeared under what I considered mysterious circumstances. No one else gave a rat’s ass. People came and went. The old folks only whined because they couldn’t come up with as dedicated a replacement.”

“Temagat? Lester Temagat?” Hecht asked. “You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, pup. I’m old, not senile. The melon works as good as ever. Why?”

“I know that name.”

“Ah! Then talk to me, young Piper.”

“When we were in captivity in Plemenza, being interrogated by Ferris Renfrow, Pinkus Ghort told a story about one of his early jobs as a mercenary. He was working for the old Duke of Clearenza. Which was under siege by the Emperor. An Imperial agent named Lester Temagat supposedly murdered Ghort’s father and opened the gate during the night. This all came up because Ghort insisted that the man interrogating us was the man who called himself Lester Temagat back then.”

“Very interesting.”

“The problem is, Pinkus Ghort is notoriously unreliable about details of his own past. He’ll tell conflicting stories about the same incident on the same day. I didn’t try hard to find the truth about that. But Clearenzans don’t recall events the way Ghort did. Till now I’d have bet that the story was mostly true but with Pinkus Ghort in the Temagat role.”

“Rather a bleak indictment of your friend.”

“He is a friend. That doesn’t make him any less a villain to some. It doesn’t guarantee that he won’t be a villain to me, someday. Especially if he’s had too much wine. He can’t resist a good vintage.”

“Vintage this,” Anna said, ending that chatter. “Find out more about Pinkus. If only so we know how he came up with that name.”

“Anna?” All three men spoke her name at once.

“Pinkus Ghort is definitely a bastard. So far, he’s been our bastard. What are the chances he’s the half-god bastard you want to find?”

Futilely trying to be funny, Hecht suggested, “He would have to be several hundred years old to have done all the things he claims.” Which failed to stir a smile.

Cloven Februaren said, “You people will have to deal with that. My focus will be the Great Sky Fortress.”

“Wouldn’t this be part of that?” Hecht asked.

“The hunt for Pinkus Ghort’s past? Doubtful. Though my mind isn’t working with its usual cool precision. I’m a bit distracted these days.”

That piqued Principat? Delari’s curiosity. “Explain that.”

“The Windwalker is coming. Uh. No. Not here. Toward the entrance to the Realm of the Gods, through Andoray. He knows the way is open. And, before we got started, there was an explosive event under the Andorayan Sea. An immense surge of power. It’s fading now but it’s still leaking. Every Night thing able to get there is coming to feed.”

“You think he might overwhelm the others.”

“I’m scared that he’ll get strong enough to freeze the water between Andoray and the gateway. If he does, we’re doomed.”

Hecht pictured a map of the north. “Wouldn’t that approach be going the long way round? Coming along the south shore of the Shallow Sea would be shorter. He’d end up in Friesland, which would put him closer to the entrance.”

“He can’t leave the frozen country. The ice isn’t permanent south of the Shallow Sea. Yet.”

“I don’t recall my mythology that well, Grandfather,” Delari said. “Wasn’t Kharoulke afflicted with a curse that kept him from crossing open water?”

“Some. He can step over puddles and streams with little discomfort, unless the water touches him. He can wade through liquid water for a short time if he concentrates on managing the pain. If he takes the time, he can make water freeze for a hundred yards around him. One way of handling him, back when, was to make sure he stayed distracted around sizable water barriers.”

Hecht said, “This is a winter god who can’t abide water? Winter is all about ice and snow.”

“He isn’t bothered by ice or snow. They just get harder when he’s around.”

Anna observed, “There’s water naturally in the air. It evaporates. Would that explain why this devil is in a bad mood all the time?”

“Could be. Or, like some people, he could just be a natural-born asshole.”

“Well, gentlemen, I appreciate you letting me into your club tonight.” Anna downed a last sip of coffee, pushed her chair back. “But I’d better go check on the children.”

The Ninth Unknown told her, “When you get to the door, stop and count slowly to ten before you lift the latch.”

That puzzled everyone. For eight of the requested seconds.

Hecht grew irritated because the old man kept staring at Anna’s lower half.

Februaren pointed a finger, spoke a word. The word hung in the air, glowing like hot, violet metal.

Hecht loosed a violent belch, first in a gassy chorus that embarrassed everyone.

High-pitch shrieks erupted from the folds of Anna’s skirt. Shadows fell out, writhing, looking like foot-tall humanoids with scorpion tails and an extra set of arms. Nothing cast them. For an instant each shone the same dark glow as Februaren’s floating word. Then they collapsed into little piles of black sand. That sand quickly decayed to black dust.

The Ninth Unknown said, “A few seconds more, if you please, Anna. Heris, scatter that dust. Gently. You should find two tiny amber beads. Patience, Anna.”

Heris did as instructed. “I don’t see any beads. Just two flakes of gold.” She placed those in front of Februaren.

“Well, well.”

Anna asked, “Can I go, now?”

“Certainly. Catch hold of that word and drag it along. That’ll keep any others from sliding in while the door is open. Once you close that, give the word a shove to put it in motion. It’ll drift around and rout out any more lurking things. Lurking! I love that word. It should last twenty minutes. The floating word should, that is.”

Anna followed instructions, refusing to be impressed or intimidated by the unexpected.

The door chunked shut.

“So what do we have?” Hecht asked.

Everyone stared at the flakes. Hecht downed some more coffee. Finally, Delari said, “Bronte Doneto has gone clever on us.”

Heris asked, “Why do you think it was him?”

“Because of the flakes. Any true Night thing would’ve left an egg. In this size, a bead. These were specially created from Night things, then trained by a sorcerer who had the inclination to spend a lot of time shaping them.”

“All that from a couple flakes?”

“All that. I’d guess they represent years of work.”

Heris asked, “How did you know?”

Februaren tapped the side of his nose. “Talent, sweetling. Talent. Take my word. Since you don’t have it yourself you’ll never really understand.”

“I understand when somebody is blowing smoke, though.” Heris was irked but only mildly so. Februaren had not been condescending. “Won’t their disappearance tell him you’re on to him?”

“He has half a brain. He should assume that anyway.”

“When he doesn’t know you’re still alive?”

“He’ll know that as soon as he gets the news from the show downstairs.”

Principat? Delari said, “I have no love for Bronte Doneto. But I have an almost boundless respect. He’s done an amazing job of crafting himself, almost entirely in secrecy. I still have no real idea what he was up to in the catacombs with the Witchfinders that time. You be careful of him, Piper. He must have figured out that you and Armand helped me escape.”

Februaren added, “Keep an eye out for rogue Witchfinders, too.”

“Rogue Witchfinders?”

“You’ve been around the Brotherhood of War most of the time since you arrived in Firaldia. Have you figured out what the Witchfinders were up to in the catacombs? Or in Sonsa, at the Ten Galleons?”

“No.” And he had tried to find out. Cautiously.

“Chances are, nobody knows anymore. Except maybe Bronte Doneto, the only survivor. Barring Lila or Vali knowing something they’ve never reported.”

“There’s nothing there.”

Heris said, “You could always ask the Patriarch himself.”

The others chuckled charitably.

The Ninth Unknown asked, “How soon till you go haring off after your impossible fantasy, Piper?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sure you won’t resist the blandishments of Alten Weinberg. I’m hoping you hold out awhile. So Muno can get you connected to the Construct.”

Hecht’s response was instant aversion.

Februaren revealed a lot of teeth. Those could have used more attention. “You aren’t in the Realm of Peace anymore, Piper. And it’s important.”

Delari observed, “The Realm of Peace turned its back on you.”

“You don’t have to do that. I get it. But I don’t like it. I don’t like being an exile, either. I’ll spend as much time with the Construct as I can.”

Heris remarked, “Note that he denied nothing about Alten Weinberg, nor the Empire, nor the two pullets running the farmyard there.”

Februaren said, “Oh, we noted.”

Hecht’s cheeks grew heated.

Breakfast at Anna Mozilla’s house. The Consent family visiting. No? in the kitchen with Anna. Little Consents infesting the place like they were twice their actual number, playing some game where they fled from Pella and the girls, shrieking and running.

Hecht slumped in a comfortable chair, sipped a mint tea, and enjoyed the domestic chaos. Titus occupied a chair facing him. He had said nothing since they finished eating. He sipped from a showy Clearenzan glass filled with grape juice. He, too, was savoring the moment. Finally, reluctantly, he asked about Alten Weinberg. “Are we going?”

Hecht nodded. “I don’t know when. I visited the Penital. Told them we’ll take the job if the Empress still wants us.”

“Us?”

“She takes everybody. Or nobody. Has Prosek decided?”

“He waffles. He loves the stinks and bangs and won’t get to play with them if he follows the Brotherhood to the Holy Lands.”

“I don’t want to lose him. Or Kait Rhuk. By the way. There’s a new ambassador. Bayard va Still-Patter. Graf fon Wistrcz got called home. His wife did something to offend the Empress.”

“Bayard. Not so good. He didn’t like us taking over his place.”

“All is forgiven. If he hadn’t been made to suffer through that, Katrin wouldn’t have given him this plum assignment.”

“What’s holding you here?”

Hecht made a gesture to include their surroundings. “And Principat? Delari. That old man is a slave driver.”

“Having you do what?”

“He claims it’s education. I’m not allowed to talk about it.” And did not want to. Encounters with the Construct left him feeling inadequate, even retarded. Heris said she had felt the same in the beginning. He could accept that intellectually but never before had he had difficulty mastering any skill.

“All right. We’ll go when we go. I won’t need to look for work right away. But I do worry about No? getting sick of having me underfoot.”

“I can empathize with that.” Hecht was uncomfortable. Titus no longer seemed able to conceive of life without his being part of Piper Hecht’s staff.

Consent said, “By the way, I’ve found where Krulik and Sneigon are relocating. Which isn’t anywhere near where I expected.” He took a folded sheet of paper from his sleeve, handed it over. Hecht opened it, smoothed it. On it was a painstakingly produced map of the upper Vieran Sea. A red circle lay in the wild mountains over on the Eastern Empire side. “Somewhere in there. I found it because Krulik and Sneigon are recruiting veterans to defend something. Some of my agents were approached. I had them sign up.”

“I presume you know more than this.”

“Of course. Hidden in rough country that’s mostly empty. Plague wiped out the population several hundred years ago.”

An odd and terrible time that had been. The plague hit hardest in the Eastern Empire just as the Praman Conquest reached its ferocious peak. Some believed that the vast movements of peoples at the time spread the disease. Within the Eastern Empire urban populations became so depleted that rural folk flooded in hoping to prosper. Many of them died as well. Vast tracts of country had gone back to nature. And remained wilderness even now, centuries later.

“Why just there?”

“Splendid isolation, yet a river wide and gentle enough for small barge traffic. Vast old forests to turn into charcoal. And nearby ore deposits. Not the best but still good. Especially if they use forced labor. There’s no government to interfere. Tribal leaders can be bribed or intimidated. Those wild people are why they hired soldiers. The ownership plans a huge, bloody demonstration first excuse they get. Construction has already begun. They want a huge operation that’ll make them filthy rich selling to everybody.”

“There are, indeed, fortunes to be made creating the tools for efficient organized murder. What about sulfur? For making firepowder. There aren’t any sulfur mines over there, are there?”

“That they have to import. Unless they make the firepowder somewhere else.”

“Which would make some sense.”

“I’ll keep on it. Yes. But you need to remember that we no longer have any legal standing.”

“I understand. But we’ll pretend. We’ll be our own law.”

“Also, some new intelligence sources have opened up. Because of that.”

“Oh?” Immediately curious.

“A lot of Brothen Devedians aren’t happy about what Krulik and Sneigon are doing. Ones who have seen what happens when Deves get blamed. People like refugees from Sonsa. They’re sure Krulik and Sneigon will bring down the wrath of the Chaldarean world on the Deve communities.”

“You never know.” Full of one of Anna’s finest breakfasts ever, Hecht wanted nothing more than to go back to bed.

“I know. The hammer will fall because Chaldareans will be terrified the Deves might arm themselves with fearsome weapons.”

“And they’d be right.”

“Probably. But I remind you, Deves never start the ruckus.”

“Titus! Of course they do. Just by refusing to acknowledge a few self-evident religious truths.”

“I’m now a devout convert, boss, but bullshit!”

Hecht laughed.

“I haven’t found anything useful about Ferris Renfrow or Pinkus Ghort. I don’t want to push, especially with Renfrow. I don’t want to alert him. His network is bigger, more sophisticated, and more deadly.”

“I get you, Titus. He worries me, too.”

“Thank you. With Ghort the problem is a lack of resources. I can’t send somebody to Grolsach. Assuming Ghort really is from there. The investigator wouldn’t survive.”

“Naturally. What about the catamite?”

“Not much there, either. He disappeared the day Boniface died. He may have fled to the Empire, in disguise. He might be living on the street. Somebody might have killed him. All three hypotheses have their advocates. Why are you concerned?”

“He lived with Principat? Delari. He heard things. The Principat? is worried that he might repeat them.”

For an instant Hecht wondered if Cloven Februaren might have dealt with Osa Stile. He would have to ask.

“I see.” Said in a tone suggesting that Titus knew he was not hearing the whole truth.

Heris rotated into being behind Titus’s chair. Her mouth burst open. This was a huge blunder on her part. She turned again, hastily.

Consent felt the air stir both times but Heris was gone before he looked back. “What the hell was that?”

“A ghost? Something. It was only there for half a second.”

“But…”

“If this was my place I’d make Anna move,” Hecht said. “Too many weird things happen in this neighborhood. Not to mention too much dangerous stuff, like people blowing up carts loaded with kegs of firepowder. Now what?”

Someone had begun pounding on the door.

Hecht headed that way.

Pella streaked past. And was totally disappointed when he found Heris at the door. Who told him, “My feelings are hurt just by being here with you, too, Pella. I need to see your father.”

By now everyone had come to see what was going on. Pella told Heris, “I thought it might be Kait Rhuk. He said he might come… Uh-oh.”

Numerous pairs of eyes bored in. Hecht asked the question. “When did you see Kait Rhuk?” When no answer was forthcoming, “I distinctly recall telling you, more than once, not to leave the house.”

Heris reminded them of her presence. “I can provide a convincing demonstration, Piper. It’s one reason Grandfather sent me.” She produced a shiny brown mahogany dowel an inch in diameter and eighteen long. She found the center of the room, lifted the piece of wood overhead, closed her eyes, and began turning. And singing in a bad voice, words in something like Church Brothen. The mahogany dowel wiggled, wobbled, and writhed.

It vanished in an eye-searing scarlet flash. Two more flashes followed quickly, then one sharp little crack of thunder.

Hecht’s eyes adjusted. Three black silhouettes now decorated three different walls, each near a corner of the room. The shapes were knee-high, nearly as wide, vaguely humanoid but without necks, demonic by the standards of every present or formerly held religion of those in the room.

Something more tangible lay a step behind Hecht. Twenty pounds of already rotting, greenish meat, shedding ribbons of lime steam. Severed extremities, shiny and lizard-belly yellow, lay scattered around the odiferous mass.

Heris said, “Pella, this is what we’re dealing with. The least dangerous of it. When you go out unprotected, things like these go with you. Some could make you look like that green mess if their master ordered it. Like this.” She snapped her fingers. “Piper, you just witnessed a triumph of technical education over an absence of talent. The old people can make a monkey over into a deadly weapon.”

Hecht gave Pella a hard, promising look, but asked Heris, “Why are you here? And how did those things get into the house? I thought the Principat? charmed the entrances against the Night.”

“There are ways to ride somebody through the wards. If that somebody is in a hurry and doesn’t take precautions. Pella.”

Hecht said, “Pella, out there it just might be something a whole lot nastier. Something that could kill you before you knew it was there.”

No? Consent said, “Titus, we have to talk. When we get home.”

That did not sound promising. Hecht said, “You haven’t told me why you’re here, Heris.”

“That was part of it. Clearing the vermin.”

“Please.”

“The same reason I always come here when you’re in town. I’m Grandfather’s messenger. This time, besides getting the bugs out of Anna’s house, he wants me to warn you that you’re about to hear from Serenity. He wants you to be careful. The other old man has gone away again. Though he did sow some confusion before he left.”

As she talked Heris turned slowly, pointing her stick at every corner and shadow. And at Titus, his wife, and all the children. She did not care who might be offended.

Following the path blazed by her surviving male ancestors.

“Nothing got away when I came in. Anna, let’s take a quick look around. There may be more. Pella. Stay away from that.”

Dazed, Anna left the room with Heris. The children and Consents had sense enough to stay put. Titus asked, “What was all that?”

“You saw everything I did.”

Timid No? wrung her hands, gathered her brood, and looked to the men for a cue.

Hecht said, “Pella. Do I have to strap you to get you to leave things alone?”

“I just wanted to see.”

“And what would there be to see if you’d done as you were told? You let those things in when you came back. Boy, there can be real consequences…”

Fierce red light. A crack! that rattled the house. A roar of rage and agony. Anna squealed in terror in the kitchen.

Hecht and Consent headed that way. As though there might be something they could do that Heris could not.

The blonde appeared. “That will be all of them. That was the big one.” She stepped aside, glared at Pella. It was plain there were things she wanted to say but could not in front of the Consents. “Grandfather will send someone to clean up. He’ll probably come himself, to fix it so this can’t happen again.” Pella had begun to wilt. “I’d clean up myself but… He’ll want better information than I can give. Being just a messenger.”

“You did have a reason for coming?”

“I told you. He suspected the kind of problem I just corrected. And he wanted you to know things are happening inside Krois. That you’ll be seeing Serenity and should be careful when you do.”

Hecht was sure there was more but Heris would not broach it in front of Titus.

She said, “Go comfort Anna. Don’t whip Pella. Just make him sit watch on the thing in the kitchen. Sense might penetrate.” She went out the front door into a bright morning. Carefully.

Anna was badly rattled. She stood in a corner of the kitchen, hands clasped between her breasts, staring at a mess like that in the other room but five times its size. It was evaporating. It stank. Hecht wondered if it would be all right to open a window.

Best not. Not till an expert said it was safe.

Anna sounded like a frightened little girl when she asked, “How could that thing be invisible? And not make any noise or smells?” Then, more focused and more determined, “I can’t live like this, Piper.” After a pause, “These things happen because you’re you. And they only happen when you’re here.”

Probably not strictly true but he did not argue. “I won’t be long. I can move to the Castella. If that will make you more comfortable.”

He watched Anna struggle to behave like an adult. She wanted to scream at him for being willing to desert her. Even though she had told him that having him around was intolerable. Only a short time after telling him that she refused to leave this place for any other. Even if moving put her beyond reach of those inclined to deploy the Instrumentalities of the Night against her.

Anna took deep breath after deep breath. Her color improved. The ugliness of anger faded. He knew she wanted him to utter some magic words that would close the situation neatly. He remained silent. This was outside his expertise. He had a Sha-lug’s sense of being a fragment of a larger instrument. He took what was given and did not look beyond. Otherwise, God might find him guilty of hubris.

Anna said, “We’re all counters in a game. We don’t get many choices, however much we whine about the injustice. I’ve never regretted following you here. But sometimes I do miss the quiet old life.”

Hecht took her into his arms. It felt good, having her there. Felt good having put together this makeshift family from human spindrift, all flotsam like himself. Though he had found a blood family of his own, as well.

“We still have company, Piper.”

But not for long. No? Consent had had all the excitement one timid woman dared enjoy in one morning. Titus was apologetic as he followed his wife to the street.

Hecht told him, “I understand, Titus. If I was No? and had three knee-highs to worry about, I wouldn’t want to be around me, either. Well. Look at this.”

Principat? Delari’s coach was approaching, surrounded by outriders armed with firepowder weapons. They wore smoldering slow matches on their hats.

Consent grumbled, “How the hell did he get here so fast?”

“Has to have been on his way.”

Titus eyed him suspiciously. He did not buy that. Not whole, though it had to be true. Something was going on. He was not trusted enough to be taken inside.

“There’s that thing called need to know, Titus.”

“I understand.” But he was not happy. He considered coach and outriders. “They do say he’s a wizard. And he knew there were eavesdropper entities on the premises.”

“He is a wizard. And a damned sight more scary one than people realize. I’ll keep you posted on my plans.”

“Be careful. I really don’t want to look for another job.”

“A vote of confidence. Excellent.” Hecht surveyed the street, checking for gawkers interested in Anna Mozilla’s house. What he saw startled him. Two of his old bodyguards were hanging around up the way, trying to be inconspicuous.

They were not doing a clever job of it.

Was he still under the protection of the Brotherhood? If so, why? The castellans, the masters of the commanderies, and the overlords over in Runch, they all liked their Patriarchs driven. They had that kind of a man in charge, now. Except that Serenity’s obsession was not the Holy Lands.

“Piper? Are you lost in the next world?”

He blinked. Heris’s face was just a foot away. And there was Titus looking back, clearly wondering how the blonde could be riding with Principat? Delari. “No. I’m lost in this one.”

The Eleventh Unknown, with help from his coachman, had descended and started for the house. Bent and taking small steps.

Hecht asked, “What happened to him?”

“Nothing. Protective coloration. The world doesn’t need to know how spry he is. Especially the part that lives inside Krois.”

“I understand. They’ll be more patient if they think he’s on the brink.”

Delari straightened up as soon as the door closed. He considered the members of the household. He did not appear to be in a good mood. The look he gave Pella made the boy cringe. Nor was there the customary gentle indulgence when he considered Vali and Lila. “You girls go do whatever you’d be doing if I wasn’t here. Pella. You’ll clean up the mess you caused.” He indicated the green meat. “Starting now!” when Pella opened his mouth to protest.

The boy did not know what he should do or where he should start. Heris took him by the ear and headed for the kitchen.

Delari stared at Anna so long she finally demanded, “What?”

“Are you ready to move to the safety of the town house?”

“What? No! This is my home.”

“I can’t protect you here. You’re too far away.”

“I don’t need protecting if Piper isn’t here. And he’s about to run off to Alten Weinberg.”

“If those are the facts you perceive, then I bow to your superior feminine wisdom. It’s Piper who concerns me, anyway. I offer friendship and protection because you’re important to him. It’s not something I do lightly. Neither will I argue. You want to be on your own, so be it.”

Anna considered Delari with always big, dark eyes gone huge.

Pella stumbled through, headed for the front door. He lugged a chamber pot filled with reeking demon flesh. Heris opened the door.

Delari said, “I won’t argue with you, either, Piper. You stay at the town house for the rest of your visit. Stop! That wasn’t a request. That was a statement of fact. That’s the way it’s going to be. Don’t waste your breath.”

Piper Hecht chose to avoid a squabble. For the moment. This would be one he could not win without losing the Principat? too. And it made sense. Assuming he still had enemies. Say, someone so powerful he sent Night things to spy in Anna’s house.

Hecht caught Anna’s eye, glanced at the meat pile not far from where he stood. That thing had come in with Pella, not with Piper Hecht.

She would come around. He hoped.

Though feeling fierce, Anna also saw a fight she could not win. She left the room to see what the girls had found to do.

Pella trudged back in with an empty chamber pot. He started on the mess in the front room.

Principat? Delari heard Hecht’s report on events, remarked, “The balance has tilted slightly in our favor. For the moment.”

“I don’t understand.”

Delari shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. So long as you exercise due caution. Now. You’re going to be summoned by Serenity. Expect him to be unpleasant and verbally abusive without burning his bridges. I want to use your visit to get around his security precautions.”

“You know he won’t let me in with anything dangerous.”

“It won’t be anything dangerous. Just the kind of things Heris rooted out here. Pella! That boy is dogging it, Piper. He needs a little more direct encouragement.”

“He’s a kid. It’s what they do at that age.”

Delari grunted. “May be. I don’t remember ever being that young.”

Heris and Pella returned from another trip to the gutter. Pella lugged the chamber pot. Heris carried a covered stoneware dish. She handled it like it was hot. “Are you ready for this, Grandfather?”

“Yes. Set it on that stand.”

She did that. Delari removed the lid. Fragrant steam rolled up.

“Damn! That smells good!” Hecht said. He leaned into the steam.

The dish looked to be something featuring lamb and rice, with red beans, fragments of vegetable, seasoned heavily with garlic and fennel and something less familiar.

Delari said, “This would be some of Mrs. Creedon’s best work.” He took a packet from a pocket, added what looked like a dozen dried button mushrooms. He stirred those in with a wooden spoon presented by Heris. “We’ll let this set a minute.” Heris replaced the lid. Delari continued, “I’m sure Anna has fed you up just fine. You’ve filled out some already. But when I tell you, you should gobble this down. The mushrooms are particularly important.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain when you get back. Also, we need to get Grandfather’s amulet off you before you head out. That’s the sort of thing they’ll be looking for. Bronte Doneto is already suspicious because you’ve survived so much. We’ll reinstall it when you get back. Be especially careful while you’re doing without.”

Hecht had a library of questions but got no chance to ask them.

“Time to eat.” Delari lifted the stoneware lid. Heris proffered a tin spoon. Pella slumped past, grumbling because he had to do all the work.

A clatter rose outside, the Principat?’s coach leaving hurriedly. Heris spun sideways and disappeared. She rotated back into being seconds later. Anna and the children gawked like that was something new. Heris said, “The Patriarchal messenger is just a few blocks off, Grandfather. Let’s get busy. The watchers out there need to forget seeing anything after Lieutenant Consent left.”

“Right. Do what you can while I deal here. Piper. Be honest with the Patriarch. But don’t volunteer anything. Make him work to find out anything. Eat, damnit! Those mushrooms. And stick your left hand out here so I can get that amulet off. Anna. You and the girls need to come in here for a second.”

The pounding on Anna’s door bespoke arrogance. Bewildered, Anna answered it. She suffered that confusion one has after hastening into a room to do something, then not being able to remember what. The children had the same confused air.

Piper Hecht occupied his customary chair. He shared the confusion. Something had happened but he was not sure what. He rubbed his left wrist. It felt odd. Moist, too. And it itched.

A mild stomach cramp startled him. He belched.

The man at the door was being unpleasant to Anna. Hecht went over, pushed children aside, moved Anna, smacked the man squarely in the nose. “Pella, bring my sword. And a rag for the blood.” He wore a short sword when he was out and about. Though the blade had seen action, it was more symbol than substance.

Anna begged, “Don’t start anything, Piper.”

“I won’t, sweet. Much. Except for this asshole. Who seems to have lost the manners his mother taught him.” The deliberate use of “asshole” was more likely to get the man’s attention than the pop in the snot locker. All Brothe knew that the Captain-General-emeritus, now-used bad language only when extremely provoked. “Or can we expect those manners to improve, Mr. Silo?”

Hecht knew the man, barely. Deepened Silo. Related to the new Patriarch. An ambitious thug with none of the skills necessary to get where he thought he deserved to go. He had been rejected by the Brotherhood, had enjoyed a three-week career with the Patriarchal forces of Captain-General Piper Hecht, then had been asked to leave the constabularii of the City Regiment after failing to shine there. Family connections were all he had.

None of his problems, of course, were his own fault.

Hecht wondered what Silo was doing working for Serenity, family or no. Bronte Doneto seldom let sentiment ignore incompetence.

Silo was, undoubtedly, scheduled to become a throwaway in some underhanded scheme.

“Do I have your attention, Mr. Silo? Or shall I break something else?”

Venom sloshed behind Deepened Silo’s eyes. There would be paybacks for this humiliation. But, right now, he just wanted the pain not to get any bigger.

“Yes, sir. No, sir. I was just…”

Hecht drew back, ready to indulge himself again.

“Sir, the Patriarch sent me to bring you to see him. He wants to consult you. In person.”

Curiously put. A summons, but just slightly soft.

“Is that so? Then I’d better get going.” He strapped on the sword that Pella handed him. He tested the ease of its draw. As encouragement to Mr. Silo. “Thank you, son.”

An interesting journey, that to Krois. The Patriarch’s men had not come with a coach or horses. They walked, soaking up the morning sun. The Patriarch wanted to deliver a message to the rabble. Hecht did not think they were getting the one Serenity intended. He saw anger over what appeared to be the arrest of a hero.

So. Maybe Bronte Doneto felt threatened by Piper Hecht the way Gordimer the Lion had felt threatened by Else Tage.

Everywhere he looked, along the way, Hecht saw a tall, hard-eyed blonde watching from the shadows. Silo and his henchmen failed to notice.

Heris must have made herself familiar with every inch of Brothe.

Absent his amulet, Hecht felt countless focal points of malice, low-grade concentrations of the Night he would not have noticed normally. His companions, though, sensed nothing at all, or just ignored what was there.

Must be something to do with Cloven Februaren’s amulet.

What was that old man up to these days?

Hecht was searched and checked and found free of both offensive and defensive weapons and sorceries. During the process he belched twice, massively. That problem had grown steadily during the walk to Krois. He belched again, violently, as he entered the Patriarchal presence.

During his obsequies he tendered an apology. “My stomach refuses to adjust to Brothen cuisine.”

“Is that painful?” as another, smaller burst gained its freedom.

“It is, Your Holiness. It is.”

Serenity seemed pleased. He got to the point. “I’ll be straightforward, Hecht. I’m not pleased with you.”

Without saying so, and without demonstrating defiance, Hecht made it plain that he did not care. He could argue but would not. There was no point. Bronte Doneto’s universe revolved around Bronte Doneto. The rest of the world existed to advance Bronte Doneto’s ambitions.

“You have nothing to say?”

“No, Your Holiness.”

“The Penital is putting it about that you’re transferring your allegiance to the Empire.”

“I find myself unemployed. The Empress has offered me work.”

“I understand she offered you work before. You turned her down.”

“I had a commitment.”

“Suppose I forbid you?”

Hecht shrugged. “I don’t work for you.”

“I’m the Patriarch.”

Hecht shrugged. “The Empress might consider that an inappropriate incursion of the Church into Imperial prerogatives. At a time when she’s under tremendous pressure to return to the policies of her father.”

“Are you trying to bully me?”

Hecht belched thunderously, accompanying that with a toot from the nether orifice. “Your Holiness? No! I’m trying to make you aware of how other people might perceive your actions. And how some might respond. I wouldn’t want to bring up painful memories…”

“But?”

Hecht waved a hand to hasten the dispersal of gas he had jut passed. “Please recall what happened in the Connec, with other people who didn’t admire you so much as you do yourself.”

Ouch! Not the best way to say that.

Anger floated across Serenity’s face, went away. The Patriarch suspected that he was being baited, probably not intentionally. “There is one other matter. Well, two other matters. One is the disappearance of weapons and equipment belonging to our forces.”

“Your Holiness? Everything was accounted for when I turned over command. My staff kept meticulous records. The kind of corruption you see in most forces wasn’t allowed to take root under my command.”

Serenity did not sound pleased when he admitted, “So I’ve heard. I heard complaints during the Interregnum.”

“People actually complained because I wouldn’t let them steal from the Church?”

“They did. Though they made it sound like something else.”

Hecht released more gas, less quietly. “You Holiness, if you’re having problems with things going missing, you should talk to the people you sent to take over.” Now he passed a long, silent stream of gas, moved to evade the worst of it.

“I was hoping it would be simpler than that.”

“Pinkus has the records.” He hoped Ghort was not stealing. “We had inventory numbers marked on everything. Who had what will be in the records.”

“I’ll take another look, then.”

“The other thing?”

“The relationship you’ve developed with Muniero Delari. I’m curious about that. And I’m even more curious about what goes on inside that town house.”

“You expect me to tell you anything? I owe Principat? Delari a great deal.”

“I gather. He took over sponsoring you when Grade Drocker died. Though Drocker’s interest in you never made sense. Now I hear there’s another villain lurking in that town house. One Cloven Februaren, who styles himself the Ninth Unknown. But Cloven Februaren is supposed to have died before I was born.”

“I assume you’re talking about the old man they found living in a room in a part of the house that hadn’t been used for decades. He claims he’s the Principat?’s grandfather. I don’t know much about him. He’s not around much. When he is, he’s mostly pulling practical jokes. The Principat? doesn’t like him. Talks like he wishes the old man would just go away. I think he’s scared of him.”

Hecht recalled Delari cautioning him not to volunteer anything. Was there something in the air? Something designed to loosen his tongue? “Oh, God!”

“What?”

“My stomach. Oh, Sweet Aaron!” He grasped his gut. This time the fart energy exceeded everything that had gone before. The odor pursuant was the worst ever to grace Piper Hecht’s nostrils. It took only a moment to reach Serenity. It distracted the Patriarch from his rising anger. When Hecht repeated himself, almost immediately, Serenity demanded, “Has this been going on long?”

“Not this bad. Your Holiness.” A cramp shook him. If there was something in the air this gas should overwhelm it.

The Patriarch began barking at his hangers-on: Get a draft moving through the chamber. Bring in candles and torches. Do something!

Nothing helped. It got worse. Serenity wanted to bully and badger his former Captain-General but the disruption was too great. Too much for Hecht, too, who finally begged, “Excuse me, Your Holiness. Please. There’s something bad wrong. I need to find a healing brother.” He failed to stifle the most ferocious rumbler yet. He managed to create an expression of deep suspicion. “What did you do to me?”

The grand toot was the precursor of a parade of lesser expressions. Candles and torches did not help. The Patriarch angrily ordered Piper Hecht expelled from Krois, grumbling something about interviewing him later. He denied any connection with Hecht’s affliction, in the face of Hecht’s growing pain and passion.

The Patriarchal Guards did not seem inclined to believe their master.

Hecht’s digestion was almost normal by the time he reached the south bank of the Teragi. Shaking, he settled on one of the stone benches at the edge of the Memorium, considered the thousand monuments to victories and personalities of antiquity. He tried to stay alert, but the tail end of his suffering sucked his attention inward.

He was unaware of Heris till she sat down beside him. “That was way more harsh than Grandfather intended, Piper.”

“Humh?”

“I watched. I got as close as I could without getting caught in the tangle spells. You were just supposed to have a giant case of the silent farts.”

“You were in there?”

“Sure.”

“They’ll know. Doneto is the most powerful sorcerer in the Collegium.”

“He’s supposed to know that something was there. That it came in when you did and it left when you left. You have a guardian Instrumentality. They won’t look for some other outside agency. We’re just reinforcing what they’re already thinking.”

Gas escaped Hecht. It whipped away on the breeze. “So what have I done?”

“You took a pack of shadow spies into Krois. Inside you. So no one knew that you were smuggling. Very clever of Grandfather.”

“Yeah. Right. Should we be talking here?”

“With the sun so high and bright? Well… Maybe not. Somebody might wonder about us being together.”

“Really?” Heris was not well known. Still, she might arouse some curiosity, juxtaposed with Piper Hecht. “Serenity really wanted to interrogate me about the Principat? our relationship, and about Cloven Februaren. The gas saved me having to deal with that.”

“For now.” She laughed. That startled Hecht. She had no discernible sense of humor. “He may have you watched so he can catch you in a gas-free mood.” Another snicker. “I was behind a tapestry fifty feet from that room when you all came out. You had me gagging. I’ll let Grandfather know he’s developed a potent new weapon.”

“He wants to use it that way, he’d better feed those mushrooms to people he doesn’t mind losing.” He released a small rumble. “The pain wasn’t worth it. And it feels like it’s coming back.”

“Oh! Let’s travel on. You need to get to the town house, anyway. You need to get your amulet back on. You don’t want to be exposed any longer than you have to be.”

Hecht farted again, gently. He surveyed the Memorium and river’s edge and spied several observers. There was nowhere someone could hide and still be close enough to keep watch. “If us getting together will set off alarms, then the bell is already clanging.” One more look at the Memorium. “I’d rather go around. Bad things can happen in there.” As they walked he told her about having been ambushed by a hidden archer there, and about fighting Calziran pirates among the monuments.

“If the Ninth Unknown is halfway honest, which is questionable, you ought to feel the same way almost anywhere. He had a full-time job keeping you alive, back when.”

“Things should be different now that I’m unemployed.”

After questioning Hecht about his Patriarchal audience for twice the time that visit had lasted, Principat? Delari observed, “You might consider leaving town before Serenity pulls you in again.” The old man was very self-congratulatory about having inserted shadow agents into Krois. “If he can’t question you he can’t get answers.”

“You’re probably right. Though I’ll miss my sessions with the Construct.”

“Sarcasm duly noted.”

“Sorry. I am starting to get the hang of using it to communicate.”

“I have a work-around. Is there more coffee in that pot, Heris?”

“There is, Grandfather. But we need to find a smuggler. We’re almost out of beans.”

“Tell Turking. He knows the man who knows the man who knows where to get the beans. Here’s what we’ll do.”

Hecht’s people started reporting within hours of his having sent out word of his intentions and his hope of getting through the Jagos before bad weather arrived. The Imperial ambassador provided a headquarters suite at the Penital. Unattached staff were invited to move in. Where they got to work eighteen hours a day in return for room and board.

Titus Consent knocked on the frame of the doorway to the little room Hecht had commandeered for his own use. Beckoned, Consent stepped inside. “I think we’ve heard from about everyone who is going to respond. More of them than I expected. Kait Rhuk can’t wait to get going. I let him, Vircondelet, and a dozen others get started this morning. Hagan Brokke is with them. The others are spies or quartermasters. Oh. Drago Prosek says he’s in. Claims the Brotherhood will survive without him.”

“Efficient, as always.”

“It’s a curse. Couple of things came up today. Surprises, sort of. First was a letter from Smolens. He says he made a mistake when he decided to stay and work for Ghort. He wants to know if you’d have a job for him if he quits the Patriarchals.”

“What do you think?”

“I like Smolens. He did good work. But I’d always wonder if he’d come to us just to spy for Ghort or Serenity.”

“And we were sure of him before? He was forced on us the first time. And, like you say, did good work. I hated to lose him. I’ll leave it to you. If you can think of a way to use him that leaves him no chance to cause harm, bring him back.”

“I’ll find a way. Meantime, second surprise. I just got finished talking to Clej Sedlakova. He says he convinced Addam Hauf that the Brotherhood needs to keep somebody close to you. Somebody besides Prosek, who cares about nothing but his falcons.”

Hecht laughed. “I’m not surprised. I know Clej. His real motive is, he wants to skate out of the Brotherhood buildup in the Holy Lands. He’s been there. He lost the arm there. He’s welcome. But I’m really thrilled about Prosek. He is the master of artillery. Both kinds.”

“Don’t let Kait Rhuk hear you say that. He thinks he has that title wrapped up.”

“One is as valuable as the other. Rhuk is more the theoretical guy. Though that was Prosek when we started. How soon can you be ready to travel?”

“Half an hour? No. Make it an hour. I need to go get No? knocked up before I grab my stuff. Don’t give me that disgusted look. Tell me you won’t give Anna a special goodbye.”

Hecht shuddered, uncomfortable with that kind of talk. “I can’t say for sure exactly when we’ll go. Not before I have a solid idea what I’ll have to get started and what I’ll need to pull together. Mid-level officers, for sure. And I’ll want everybody to travel in small groups. The country can’t stand a big mob moving through all at once.”

With the best of will an army could not prevent disruptions and damage.

“So your plan is, you’ll avoid angering the Patriarchal States till Katrin tells you to jump on them.”

Hecht nodded. He hoped to redirect the Empress into pursuing her father’s old squabbles with the Patriarchy.

Consent said, “I wish I knew more about how her head works. We could build an interesting future if we knew how to manage her.”

Hecht laughed aloud. “Titus, you’ve got to know that every noble in the Grail Empire is thinking that exact same thing. And, so far, she’s been Hansel’s daughter and has manipulated them.”

“Now you mention it. But the idea is still valid.”

“Let’s get things moving.”

Piper Hecht’s last hours in Brothe included an intense, possibly ultimate night with Anna Mozilla, and some vigorous discussion with Principat? Delari in the quiet room at his town house. He did avoid further congress with Serenity by contriving to be elsewhere whenever the Patriarch’s messengers came looking for him. Which he managed because Heris seemed to be reading Serenity’s mind.

She said, “They say Krois is haunted. They’re right. I’m the haunt. Along with your fart children.”

Principat? Delari grumbled, “Language, woman. You’re getting as bad as my grandfather.”

Heris did not argue. Neither did she appear chastened. Delari said, “I wish we’d had more time with the Construct, Piper. But what time we did have will pay dividends. Heris. Break out the medallion.”

She brought a pendant, gold and amber with inlays of jade and lapis lazuli, presented it to Hecht. “Heavy,” he observed.

The metal portion took the form known as an Ihrian knot, very complex. It had a turban shape at its center and four equal arms surrounding it. The Ihrian knot was one of the earliest symbols of the Chaldarean faith.

“Show him,” Delari said.

“You’re connected to the Construct now. No matter where you are. Use that to touch it back. Tap the inlays in the right order, you can send a message one character at a time. Here. These are the code sheets. I tried to write them down so it isn’t obvious that the code is connected with the pendant. Someone who gets hold of the sheets will look for letters written in the same substitution cipher.”

Hecht examined the pages, considered the inlays on the medallion. “I see it. I can memorize this.”

“Good.”

“Just for fun, why don’t I send my messages in Church Brothen?”

Ignoring that, Delari said, “Be careful, Piper. You’ve never been as vulnerable as you’ll be the next few weeks.” Mainly because of the need to travel in small bands. “Heris has caught whiffs of several potentially unpleasant schemes.”

Heris said, “People you’ve never even met want to get you just because you’re you, Piper.”

“I’ll become caution itself. We’ll disguise ourselves and take a route that stays mostly in the Imperial territories. We’ll be all right once we get to the Remayne Pass.”

“Be wary of false friends. Serenity is wooing weather vanes like Germa fon Dreasser.”

“I know who I can’t let get behind me, Grandfather. And I’ll go armed with all the legal instruments the Penital can provide.”

“So va Still-Patter has developed an affection for you.”

Heris sneered. “He hopes Piper will help him achieve his own ambitions.”

“An understandable basis for an alliance.”

It was not yet light out. Hecht said, “Titus is outside. He’ll be getting impatient. I’d better get gone before Serenity finds me and has me dragged in. What’s his problem, anyway?”

Heris said, “He’s really worried about his falcons and firepowder. Ghort says he can only find a few falcons. Most of those are damaged. Serenity counted on having scores to use against Antieux.”

“He won’t let that go, will he?”

“Not as long as he lives.”

“I couldn’t help him with the falcons. I told him to take a closer look at his own people. There are always crooks around our homegrown Patriarchs. Plenty would sell military stores and equipment to line their own purses.”

Delari said, “I’ll start a rumor, give it a few days, then raise the question in the Collegium. We have the right to insist on an accounting of where the Church’s money is going. That will put him on the defensive.”

“Add a little pressure by insisting on being told where it’s coming from, too.”

“Anne of Menand?”

“She’s always in the mists somewhere, isn’t she?”

Fourteen riders left Brothe with Hecht and Consent, a larger party than Hecht wanted. His men would not let him travel with less protection.

Heris quickly developed a habit of turning up when nobody was looking, like her remote ancestor before her. She kept Hecht posted on wickednesses hatching inside Krois. As had been the case with Sublime V, Serenity had almost no idea what those around him were doing in his name. He might not want to know. He refused to hear what the Collegium had to say. He was almost completely fixated on next spring in the Connec.

“And what would be the plan for today?” Titus Consent asked, the fifth morning. He became more surly and suspicious daily. Hecht was too obviously shutting him out of the secrets.

“Your choice today, Titus. Either road will bring us to the Remayne Pass day after tomorrow.” They were crossing the rich farmlands of the Aco River floodplain, well east of the direct road from Brothe to the pass. Heeding Heris’s warnings, Hecht was directing his company out of harm’s way. He had not explained. Not in detail. “By now the villains will have decided to catch us at the mouth of the pass.”

“I won’t ask how you know. You wouldn’t give me a straight answer. But I am interested in why you’re determined to avoid these villains. There are sixteen of us. None of us virgins.”

“All right. I have a friend. A sorcerer. He watches them and keeps me informed. That’s all you need. I’ve avoided the fight because I don’t want it to reflect back on the Empress.” Which was true. Though mainly for show. He had no objection to renewed conflict between the Patriarch and Empire.

“Things are changing. And I’m not comfortable with some of that.”

Hecht shrugged. “We’ll get back to normal once we get to Alten Weinberg.” He hoped.

Consent remained sullen for hours, upset because he was not trusted. Which could lead to trouble someday. Though, intellectually, Titus had to see that trust was not the issue. What a man does not know he can never reveal, no matter what.

Consent came to Hecht later. “I know how we can deal with these people who worry you so much.”

“Tell me.”

“We have a thousand men on the move. Maybe more. Mostly behind us. Why don’t we just sit down and let them catch up? Your villains won’t take on a whole army, will they?” Consent had a hard time believing that Serenity, or his henchmen, would risk angering Empress Katrin by attacking Piper Hecht. But the former Captain-General was adamantly attached to the opposing view.

There was a faction inside Krois that was as stubbornly anti-Imperial as the Anti-Patriarchal faction in Alten Weinberg was stubborn. It had not gotten much voice under the last three Patriarchs. But the new one was not paying attention. The new one had obsessions in another direction.

“You’re right, Titus. Why not just show them so many spears that they’ll just run away?”

Hecht entered the Remayne Pass accompanied by key staff, three hundred veterans, and armed with an up-to-the-moment scouting report from Heris.

There were people up ahead. Their intentions were not friendly.

Drago Prosek had found a dozen falcons somewhere. Hecht had not checked their inventory numbers. Prosek put them out front. Random blasts of creek pebbles thrown up the brushy slope flushed the ambushers. Who would have tried nothing against such numbers, anyway. There were scarcely two dozen of them.

Prosek brought prisoners. “Shall I have them put to the question, Commander?” As Hecht had no official title those who dealt with him direct called him whatever came to mind.

“To what end?”

“It might be instructive to find out who hired them.”

“I already know. You’ll be happier being ignorant.”

“You think?”

Titus Consent shook his head slowly. “Silly-ass discussion.”

Hecht said, “You prisoners. Two of you were with us during the Connecten Crusade. So you know where you stand. Remind your friends. And keep it in mind when Mr. Consent talks to you.”

Consent wasted no time. He asked questions. The prisoners answered. They had nothing illuminating to say. They had been recruited by a Race Buchels. Buchels had paid well, half up front.

There was no trace of Buchels. He had gone missing as soon as the smoke from Drago Prosek’s falcons rolled over his position.

Most of the prisoners thought Buchels had worked for somebody in the Collegium. A few picked Anne of Menand. And one liked those nobles in the Grail Empire who did not want the Empress getting any stronger.

Hecht told his inner circle, “Buchels works for one of Serenity’s associates. An idiot who decided to do his boss a favor and eliminate the nuisance Serenity is always grumbling about. An idiot who can’t look past the moment far enough to see that he could start a war with the Empire.”

Heris said the fool’s name was Fearo? Durgandini. She thought that was funny. Durgandini meant “woman of bad smells” in one of the languages she spoke. This Durgandini was the illegitimate son of a Doneto cousin. He was determined to make his mark handling Serenity’s unpleasant chores. Heris suspected that Durgandini operated under deniable orders.

Titus Consent observed, “It doesn’t matter in the end. We’ll go where we have to go. Whoever gets in the way will get trampled.”

There were no more human intercessions. The road was busy now that no monster lurked in the high Jagos. And the season was late. Travelers were trying to get through before weather got in the way. The Night took no more than a normally malicious interest. After a few small punishments it pretended indifference.

“Bayard va Still-Patter offered the use of his house, gave me letters to prove it, and I don’t intend to be shy about taking advantage,” Hecht declared as he neared Alten Weinberg. To va Still-Patter retainers sent by the Ambassador’s father to discourage the hiresword interloper from taking advantage of the son’s generosity. “I won’t let my men steal whatever they overlooked last time.”

He faked a light, playful mood. He did not look forward to the incessant politics plaguing every center of power. He was exhausted. Though the threats had been minimal the mountains left him wanting nothing more than to disappear and recuperate.

The pass had been colder than ever for the time of year. And, though the Night itself had shown little interest, someone had sent numerous noxious minor Instrumentalities to make him miserable, presumably in hopes he would turn back.

Heris had been no help.

He had not yet had time to pull off his boots, once inside Bayard va Still-Patter’s, when the invitations and petitions started. He told Rivademar Vircondelet, “You’ve been here a week. You’re rested up and familiar with the local situation. This crap is on you. Anybody wants an audience, tell them to go through the Empress. I work for her. If it’s the Empress, though, say I’m too sick.” Hecht did not strictly lie about being sick.

“Won’t be the Empress, boss. She’s out in the sticks doing what they call a progress. Which sounds like just showing herself off so people know she really exists. At their expense, of course. I hear Johannes started it so he could save on what it cost to run the court. Anyway, we’ll actually have a few weeks where the load stays kind of light.”

“That’s good. That’s real good. It’ll give me a chance to recover.”

He did not like being sick. He could not recall the last time he was really sick.

Titus told him exactly, when he arose, recovered but weak, three days later. Titus had consulted his personal journals. But it did not matter, other than to illuminate the fact that people pushed old seasons of pain out of mind.

“What’s on the schedule?” Hecht asked.

“It’s really piled up while you were loafing, boss. Everyone wants a piece, now that you’re here. Both of them.”

“What?”

“Almost everybody who is anybody is out making progress with the Empress. The elder va Still-Patter is not here to aggravate us only because his gout is so bad he can’t get out of bed.”

“Again, then. That’s real good. I want you all to learn everything about this city while you have the chance. Now. Let’s put me to bed.”