Working God's Mischief

35. Hypraxium: Interlude

Lord Arnmigal’s rush to overtake the Enterprise stuttered when his band reached the heart of the Eastern Empire.

The Emperor, Monestacheus Deleanu, saw in the Enterprise an opportunity to humble old enemies and restore the fortunes of his state. He hoped the westerners would reclaim provinces that al-Prama had nibbled away over the past two centuries. He believed the situation in the Holy Lands would correct itself once his Empire was restored.

Lord Arnmigal had instructions from his Empress. He was to remain polite, agreeable, and, on the surface, amenable. The Enterprise needed Monestacheus Deleanu to maintain its lines of communication.

Lord Arnmigal could not refuse an invitation to visit the Emperor and Hypraxium, nor did he want to miss the wonders of the grandest city in the world. Neither did he want to endure the political weather that such a visit would bring.

He and his senior people were assigned a villa overlooking the westernmost of the Antal Land Bridges. The Phesian Bridge lay on the left hand, facing south. The headwaters harbors of the Agean Reach lay to the right. There were a dozen harbors, large and small, natural and man-made, civilian, commercial, and military, each defended by its own fortifications. The villa was fit for an emperor. It did belong to the Deleanu clan. The comforts included running water, heated baths, and flushable garderobes.

Hecht grumbled, “They mean to seduce us with luxury.”

Titus reported, “I’ve received six more requests for ‘a moment’ of your time and we’re still unloading. How do I refuse without offending anyone?”

Pella suggested, “First, make them come to us. Second, Dad can hold audiences. No private meetings. A lot of them won’t say what they really want if there are witnesses.”

“Listen to that, Titus. Who are these people, anyway?” Hecht was checking a list.

“Some generals. Some priests. Some nobles. A member of the Imperial family who thinks he should be the next Emperor. Monestacheus hasn’t designated a successor. Kalakakian is a merchant from somewhere out east, richer than God Himself. Those two are the factors for the local colonies of Aparion and Dateon. They want to rehash the contracts they made last year. I imagine they think they can twist our arms now that we’re here.”

“Why?”

“Both senates want a monopoly on access to Shartelle after we take it. Dateon wants to buy it.”

“Everybody wants something. Nobody donates anything.”

“That’s people, Boss.”

“I know. It’s depressing. Makes me wonder if we ought not to breed it out of them.”

That got him an odd, troubled look.

“I think I’ll take a long nap, Titus. I’m getting cranky.” He had been working his way out of the need for so much sleep. He managed ten hours of work a day, now, and that should keep improving.

Consent nodded. “I’ll put out an audience-only alert with a suggestion that you’ll consider private visits for anyone who can convince me that their business is worth your time. Even the most self-absorbed understand that you have to go on south. Our lead elements are approaching the northern Crusader States now.”

The Shining Ones reported frequent skirmishing. The investment of Shartelle would begin soon. Indala would not be able to save the city because another force would threaten Shamramdi.

Pella was close by most of the time, sulking because he could not be at the tip of the spear with Rhuk or Prosek. “You have to be there to coordinate it, Dad. Nobody else can do it.” Meaning only Piper Hecht could manage the Shining Ones, whose existence was becoming ever less a secret.

No outsider suspected the whole truth but, clearly, the Commander of the Righteous had resources inside the Night. There could be no other explanation for how he knew so much so fast about events so far away.

The Shining Ones were his best reason for catching up. He needed to be several hundred miles farther along before the Old Ones could reach the nearest Well of Ihrian.

Hecht thought they might suck that dry-and become major Instrumentalities once more. Which would present him with a battery of fresh challenges.

He felt an odd eagerness himself when thinking about the Wells.

He seldom recalled having been Else Tage. Even Piper Hecht had slipped, some. Publicly, he was Lord Arnmigal. He thought of himself as Commander of the Righteous or, occasionally, Empress Helspeth’s secret lover.

He did not think of his family often, except for Pella, who was underfoot all the time. The boy made himself almost as useful as Titus. Maybe Titus ought to go back to his field command so Pella could try the staff role.

That would not happen unless Titus asked it himself, though.

* * *

There were feasts. There were a thousand other distractions, including the countless marvels that made Hypraxium a wonder of the world. Lord Arnmigal let himself be shuffled hither and yon while staffers did the real work.

Wherever he went, usually with Pella and a disguised Shining One, he was subjected to introductions and incessant appeals. It felt like the Grail Empire’s ambassador to the Golden Gate wanted to keep the Commander of the Righteous entangled.

Hecht mentioned the notion to Hourli.

Hourli was having fun being Lord Arnmigal’s mysterious companion.

Hecht preferred the more demure and quietly radiant Eavijne. Pella, naturally, was enamored of Aldi, who was not seen much but who blinded her audiences when she was. She could not help herself.

Hourlr he never saw.

Hourli soon reported, “You were right about Ambassador fon Machen. He wants you kept from moving on. It’s ideological.”

“How so?”

“He is Katrin’s man, committed to Serenity. He has connections inside the Society but is not a member himself.”

Hecht grunted. All that was remarkable in these parts.

Hourli continued, “He has blood and marital connections with some of the most vehement, revanchist detractors of Lord Arnmigal and the Righteous.”

“Give him credit for his show of being helpful.”

“Which was why you became suspicious. Would you like me to do something?”

“Not really. We’ll adapt as the situation unfolds.”

“His intimates include numerous local villains who hope to become parasitic on the Enterprise.”

“No worry. We’re having dinner with Monestacheus tonight. We’ll drop a few hints.”

“Take Aldi or Eavijne. Aldi can turn them into drooling idiots. Eavijne can tempt their sympathy to pathological levels.”

“I prefer you. These men are impressed by a woman with a brain as well as a fine…”

“Not quite golden-tongued, are you?”

He did avoid observing that he might learn by the time he reached her age.

“You want mature and intellectual, take Wife.”

“No. It’s you. Or the Choosers.”

“That could be entertaining.”

“I’d like to save them for another time.”

“If you insist, then. I shall be glamour and intellect alike. I shall charm them with my wit. I shall … I shall have a good time.”

“You do enjoy this, don’t you?”

“I do.” She sounded surprised.

* * *

A nearly full moon reflected off the glittering navy waters of the Agean Reach. Hecht wished the image could be captured for eternity. It was one of the most beautiful he had ever beheld.

He had only to walk fifty steps to his left, round the terrace, to see the fire-lighted smoke above a suburb of hell where convicts and prisoners of war labored to connect the Agean Reach with Lake Antal via a canal across the Phesian Land Bridge.

Canals connecting the Negrine with the White Sea had been a fantasy of the Eastern Emperors for a thousand years. Maybe once a century an Emperor felt secure enough and wealthy enough to take up the grand work. None had lived long enough to complete even one of the three needed links, so far. Competing demands for treasure or manpower always killed the project. It took nature only decades to undo most of the work.

Monestacheus hoped the Enterprise would supply him with thousands more laborers.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Hourli had materialized, still in the gown she had worn earlier. She had stunned the ladies of Hypraxium with the intensity of her greens and blues.

“It is. I wouldn’t think you would be susceptible.”

“Natural beauty isn’t apparent only to mortals. Though, admittedly, we Old Ones are more jaded.”

He faked a chuckle.

“You’re nervous.”

“I don’t know if this is going to work.”

“It will work. You have us to make it work.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Manage. You always do. Meantime, I’ve heard from my brother.”

“Really?” He studied her face. Foolish, trying to read anything there.

“He’s been traveling with your sister and daughters.” She laughed outright. “Look at you! No. He’s had no luck at all.”

Hecht could not decide if he should feel relieved or foolish. “He had something to report?”

“Sort of. Mainly that you should expect visitors.”

“Uhm? They’ve been up to something, have they?”

“Your sister is always up to something. It’s what she is. She has the force of character to drag your daughters and the old man along. And here comes Titus Consent.”

Irked, Hecht muttered, “What does he want?”

“He is going to tell you that the preparations are in place. He is going to ask you what you want done now.”

Which is what Titus did, while considering Hourli in her glamorous aspect with a muted wonder. She caught his eye and winked. Once he departed, she mused, “I wonder if I ought to have Aldi get after him.”

“What? Him? No!” Then, “Why?”

“It feels like he could keep up with her.”

“Can we change the subject?” He did not want to think about women. It had been an age.

Laughter. Maybe a touch mocking. “All right.” She pointed, made a flipping gesture with her hand. Heris rotated into being facing the harbors. “Oh, Sweet Aaron!” she murmured.

Hourli said, “I’ll leave you two alone,” in a tone suggesting she expected them to do more than talk.

Hecht was disgusted. But it sparked an old curiosity about what went on between Hourli and Hourlr.

* * *

“What was that?” Heris asked. “Was that Hourli? How come she was all fancied up?”

“We went to a state dinner with the Emperor.”

“She cleans up damned good.”

“They all do. They’re Instrumentalities. They can be as glamorous as they want. She says you and Hourlr are traveling together these days.”

“Piper! No. It’s not that. You beast. I’m going to nail Asgrimmur, though, if I can get him to hold still long enough.” She laughed at his appalled expression.

“Please don’t talk like that.”

“All right. But you need to grow up.”

The air shimmered. Lila and Vali rotated into existence. Vali was shaking. “That was scary! I thought we weren’t going to hit it.”

Lila said, “If you’d stop fussing I could cut it easy.”

“Girls?”

“Hi, Dad.” Chorused. “We just got back from the world of the dwarves.” That from Lila. “Triple Great Grandfather was a major pain.”

“World of the dwarves?” Hecht looked at Heris.

“We were looking for a way to get to Eucereme.”

“By ‘we’ she means she was looking,” Vali said. “The rest of us got dragged along.”

“It’s important…”

Hecht said, “Stop.” He did not want to witness another round in an old dispute. “Did you have something to tell me? Or were you just looking for a picturesque place to squabble?”

The girls had discovered the view. They oohed and ahed. Heris said, “Mostly, we wanted to see you. An impulse, really, after we got back. The girls wondered how you were doing.”

“I’m fine, right now. But I’ll be off to the wars real soon.”

“Shartelle.” A statement.

“The first serious target.”

“It’ll be tough to take. It’s been fifteen hundred years.”

Al-Prama had gotten hold of Shartelle one household and one heart at a time. A quarter of the population was Antast Chaldarean, still, and there were quite a few Devedians. There was a Dainshau neighborhood and a Western quarter. The groups all considered themselves Shartellean first.

“I know. But I have the Shining Ones to help.”

“So you’ll succeed where so many greats have failed. Piper, don’t make Shartelle one of your bloody examples.”

“I…”

“I know how you think. You’ll want to save lives in the long run by being bloodthirsty to start. Make the example somewhere else. Shartelle will resist. They know they cannot be conquered. They’ll believe that Indala will come to help. But you’ll crush them because you have the Shining Ones and the falcons. Be merciful. People there were good to me.”

“I understand. I’ll do no evil that Shartelle doesn’t compel me to do.”

Meantime, Vali and Lila leaned on a balustrade, absorbing the view and trading nonsense about how marvelous it would be to live in a place like this. They sounded shallow beyond their years.

Noticing their father paying attention they began speculating about the romantic possibilities.

Heris whispered, “It’s all for show. Their suffering in Sonsa…”

“They’re grown women now, Heris. You all are. I try to remember that. But I can’t help being one overly protective son of a bitch.”

“I forgive you. I’m sure they do, too.”

“So you found a way into the world of the dwarves.”

“We wanted to go from there to Eucereme, to contact the Raneul and refugee Old Ones from the Realm of the Gods.”

“You failed?”

“Big time. Iron Eyes turned up right away. He ranted and raved. I ranted right back because his gang have been looting that Krulik and Sneigon manufactory.” She dipped a hand into a pocket, produced the communication pendant that he had lost.

“Where did you get that? I had no idea what became of it.”

Heris explained. “It was tangled up in some silk shreds. The old man thought…”

He watched as she decided not to carry on. He chose not to talk about it, either. “Does it still work?”

“The old man refurbished it. Not really likely to be useful since you have the Shining Ones hanging around.”

“Always handy to have an extra option. What is he up to? The old man?”

“I don’t know. Something with Grandfather, probably to do with the Construct. He’s always at that when he’s not helping me.”

“I thought you were supposed to be helping him. And learning the family trade so you can be the next Unknown.”

“I am. But that isn’t what I want anymore.”

“Oh?”

“I like this life too much.”

Hecht frowned, wondering what she meant. The Unknowns could do whatever they wanted. Cloven Februaren wandered more than Heris did. “You didn’t reach Eucereme.”

“I said.”

“Those people have no reason to help us.”

“A point Iron Eyes made with considerable vigor, though his opinion was honed by different emotions.”

“Uhm?”

“The Aelen Kofer have no love for the Old Ones.”

He knew. Still, he suspected that things happened inside Heris’s head that she failed to share. “The Old Ones can’t survive without Eucereme, right? They have to get through so Eavijne can plant a new orchard. We should keep that in mind.”

Heris nodded. “Those apples would be good for the Raneul, too.”

“They would. So when Iron Eyes is watching you he’d better have somebody else watching for Raneul coming up from behind.” He was sure the exiles in Eucereme knew about the trouble with the blessed apples.

Vali and Lila turned from the view, came over. Both hugged him briefly. Vali murmured, “Be careful. We want you back.” There were tears under her eyes when she stepped away. She turned to hide them.

What did that mean?

Lila seemed a little choked-up, too.

Heris said, “We’d better go before we’re noticed. We just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Which sounded like a half truth. “To bring you up to date. To say ‘love you,’ for Anna. And to let you know that Iron Eyes is watching.”

“Oh?”

“Take it into account. It might benefit you someday.”

Hecht nodded, though he did not understand.

“I’ll be watching, too. Especially at Shartelle.”

“I’ll be good to them if they’re good to me.”

“Thank you.” She hugged him, too, gave him a peck on the cheek, turned sideways.

The girls were gone already.

He stared at the harbors, baffled.

“What was that?” Hourli was back.

“I’m not sure. Is it possible to see the future?”

“Absolutely. Ordnan looked into it and saw that he had to kill you in order to avoid the Twilight. Or something like that. He wasn’t always completely logical.”

“It’s pretty iffy, then.”

“Not pretty, just iffy. The ugliest possibilities are the ones that really shine through. Why?”

“I got the impression they don’t expect to see me alive again.”

“Oh.” Startled, she reached out, touched his bare arm lightly. Crackle!

“Ouch!” The spark had been so sharp the hair on his arm now smoked. “That hurt.”

She started to respond, paused to peer into the darkness inside the villa. “Someone is coming.”

* * *

Pella appeared. “Hey, Dad. It’s rolling.”

Hecht told Hourli, “Time to go.”

Ambassador fon Machen awaited Lord Arnmigal, along with a crowd. He was put out and having trouble hiding it.

The Commander of the Righteous said, “Do it, then.”

Pella, Titus, and a dozen armed men relieved fon Machen and his companions of their personal arms. No one got hurt. The protests were loud but never violent. Hecht ignored them.

“Move them out,” Consent ordered.

Sharp steel encouraged sullen cooperation.

An hour later Hecht’s coterie, with the ambassador’s people, were aboard an Aparionese trireme named for some dead prince of the republic. The craft was large, lean, sleek, and fully modern. It got under way despite the darkness. Two Shining Ones, pretending to be sorceresses from one of the mystic isles in the White Sea, stood by the helm and ship’s master, piloting.

Ghebulli Resteino entered the Reach without incident.

Titus had begun making arrangements the day they reached Hypraxium. Disarming Ambassador fon Machen’s venom by taking him along seemed the easiest way of protecting the Enterprise’s supply line.

Fair winds and friendly seas followed Ghebulli Resteino. The Commander of the Righteous had gods helping, three of whom admitted being prone to seasickness.

The waters off the Antal were far busier than normal according to the ship’s master. “That is because of you, sir. Because of the Enterprise. People are coming to take part. Others are running away so they won’t get involved. But most of the ships we see are hauling cargo for your campaign.”

From the start Hecht had been impressed by the vastness of the undertaking. Coastal traffic only underscored that.

Two days out Ghebulli Resteino happened on a cluster of ships, half a dozen small vessels surrounding a fat merchantman wearing Dateon’s colors.

Hourli and the ship’s master approached Lord Arnmigal from opposite directions. The sailor spoke first. “Those are pirates. Normally I wouldn’t concern myself with Dateonese. This year, though, we’re pretending to be allies. I would like to assist them.”

There would be witnesses other than the pirates and Dateonese. A modest-size merchant showing unfamiliar colors was scooting past to seaward, headed east. Another vessel with sails taken in lay ahead and to landward. Hecht asked, “Would that be the pirate flagship?”

“Possibly. These aren’t ordinary pirates. They look like Praman privateers.”

“Run up the Righteous banner and my personal ensign.” He did not think there would be much fighting. Ghebulli Resteino had turned even before her master received permission to attack. The pirates were disengaging already.

Hourli nodded to Hecht. This piracy was what she had come to report. Hecht said, “Help the captain so we don’t lose much time.”

Hourli smiled. It was a wicked slash, anticipating. “Oh, yes. Let me talk to the girls.”

“The girls” had gathered on the foredeck, Fastthal and Sprenghul shimmering black.

Hecht called out, “Pella. Where are you?”

The boy hustled up. “Breaking out some grenados, Dad.”

“Good idea. Take them to my friends. Show them how they work.”

“Dad?” Disappointment filled the boy’s face.

“If we get close enough to throw those ourselves we’ll be close enough for them to shoot us back.”

Pella muttered but, moments later, he and two staffers were lugging a case of grenados toward the Shining Ones. Below, oarsmen prepared to take Ghebulli Resteino from sail to muscle power. The rowers were neither slaves nor criminals, as was the case on most warships. Only free men worked the ships of Aparion.

“Oh, hell,” Hecht grumbled halfheartedly. The Chooser sisters had made no effort to hide their nature while flashing toward the pirate flagship. Hourli pounded her own forehead with the heel of her right hand.

Flashes appeared aboard the flagship. It took some time for the noise to arrive. Shouting soon followed. Then the Choosers returned for more explosives.

Now they went after the Dateonese vessel’s attackers. Those smaller craft were having limited luck breaking away.

Hecht wondered why the Choosers bothered with the bombs. He went forward to ask.

“Because they like the smoke and bangs,” Pella said, before Hourli could answer.

The boy would understand. Hecht asked Hourli, “How do we cover this up? I mean, Fastthal and Sprenghul.”

“I’ll do what I can. It won’t be enough. We can’t undo what’s been seen. I’ll twist it so people who hear about it from people who heard about it from people who might have been here will assume that it’s mostly exaggeration.”

“Keep the suspicion of deviltry out of it.”

“Not possible in the prevailing religious climate.”

“Uh?”

“God doesn’t manifest. Anything supernatural that does manifest must be an agent of the Adversary. You know that.”

Hecht sighed. Of course.

He looked to the masthead. The banners of the Righteous and Commander of the Righteous were up for all to see.

Hourli said, “There is one way to manage the story exactly, one hundred percent.”

“Why do I think I’m not going to like this?”

“Because you won’t. It’s not your way.”

“And?”

“Leave no witnesses.”

Hecht trembled. He felt weak for a moment. No witnesses. These allies could make that happen. A few score pirates, some Dateonese, whoever was on that wallowing coaster from out west, hustling to get away from the action, the crew of Ghebulli Resteino, any Righteous who could not be counted on to keep quiet … Maybe seven hundred people? That was manageable.

But Hourli was right. He would not do that.

The ship’s master began to close with the pirate flagship.

* * *

Ghebulli Resteino arrived off Envi, a small port twenty-two miles up the coast from Shartelle, in company with four pirate vessels taken in prize. The crews had been consigned to the fishes. Freed Chaldarean prisoners were helping work the captured ships. The rescued Dateonese Consiglieri Reversi Ono continued on southward, destination Kagure.

Ghebulli Resteino anchored out with her prizes. The sun dropped below the western horizon. Hecht had a boat put over. He went ashore with a dozen men and the Shining Ones, the latter trembling in anticipation.

They would feast at the Well of Peace before morning. Their excitement was contagious. Lord Arnmigal felt the lure himself, some.

The Well of Peace might be feeble and misnamed but it was a well of power and it was within reach.

Campfires burned like shoals of stars across the hills south of Envi. Lord Arnmigal had overtaken his host.

* * *

The main fortifications of Shartelle surmounted a headland rising sixty feet above the White Sea. The foundations of the wall, standing thirty feet tall to seaward and as high as one hundred twenty feet to landward, were rooted in the stone of the headland. Entrance was through a massive double barbican behind a dry moat thirty feet deep. The rubble from the moat had been used to fill a curtain wall twenty feet high a hundred yards in advance of the main wall. That lay behind a ditch twelve feet deep. A further wall lay another hundred yards in front of that. All the walls had towers offering enfilading fires.

The harbors that made Shartelle such a prize lay below the headland, to either hand, behind formidable walls of their own. Those stretched out to sea atop breakwaters. There were towers at their ends capable of laying heavy fires on enemy ships. They could hoist chains that would keep ships out of the harbors. Shartelle’s own fleet was substantial. It could bring in supplies sufficient to keep the city going indefinitely. A siege centuries earlier had persisted thirteen years with no success.

Lord Arnmigal considered the situation. “Our friends from Dateon and Aparion are too optimistic. We can’t take that by storm. Our falcons won’t help. They aren’t heavy enough to break those walls.”

“So we’ll use trickery,” Titus Consent said.

“Or ferocity.”

Hecht glanced at Hourli. He was uncomfortable with her now, and not just because she was so much more potent a presence after having visited the Well of Peace. She was always close by, now. Nearer than the Choosers, usually-and it seemed he needed her to be. He was more confident and decisive when she was.

He suspected that her interest was, in fact, more than personal, serving the cause of the Shining Ones.

He said, “Suppose we go with the historical option and just bypass Shartelle? Keep it closed up on the land side while we deal with easier targets?”

Consent said, “Maybe not the best choice psychologically.”

Hourli agreed. “The Commander of the Righteous has a reputation. He shouldn’t dodge his first tough challenge.”

Hecht grunted. Too true. Events at Shartelle would shape his future in the Holy Lands. Taking the city would guarantee less resistance elsewhere, later.

“There is a problem. I promised Heris not to butcher the population.”

Hourli said, “There must be people who didn’t treat her right.”

“They got theirs already. Grade Drocker was ferocious.”

Hourli said, “I’ll consult Heris. You study the situation here. You’ll find a way, you being you.”

“What was that?” Titus asked after Hourli walked away.

“I don’t know. She’s changed. She acts like I’m one of them instead of the Godslayer.”

“You aren’t even that, anymore. Heris has taken that. And she wants to keep it.”

Titus was right. Heris was at war with the Night.

“Let’s walk the ground again. We could overtop that first curtain wall with an old-fashioned ramp.” But he was eying the northern harbor. If he could run a causeway to the mole and escalade that wall …

Titus said, “We have the Instrumentalities. Like it or not, people think we have supernatural allies. Why not go ahead and use them?”

Hecht grunted. He did not want to rely too much on the Shining Ones. He did not want to remind the world that the Commander of the Righteous was strange. He troubled the world enough already. “Tell me about the tower overlooking the main barbican.”

Titus said, “Practically a wonder of the world. Almost two hundred feet tall. Called the Tower of the Bats. Come sundown you can see why. They come out by the thousands. It has collapsed twice during earthquakes. They built it back taller and stronger each time.”

“Can we make it fall on the barbican?”

“Maybe with firepowder smuggled in by our supernatural friends.”

* * *

Another day. Hourli was back from seeing Heris, whom she had had trouble finding. “I have a better idea who has to be protected, now.”

Hecht grunted. He was distracted. His engineers, after interviewing captives who knew the Tower of the Bats, said that it could not be dropped onto the barbican. The stonework would not tilt enough without breaking up first. A wave of rubble might do some damage, though.

“Let’s drop it, anyway,” Hecht said. “Just to show that we can.”

Hourli said, “We’d be more useful picking off key men.”

Hecht grunted again. That would cause confusion.

Hourli continued, “I hate to add to your worries. There is another problem developing that will shape every choice you make from the moment I tell you.”

“Now what?”

“The Empress Helspeth has decided to join you. She is in Hypraxium. The ascendant and the Bastard are with her. I asked Wife to watch over them.”

Hecht gaped. Impossible! But … she would. Helspeth would indeed, likely gathering the men she trusted least into her escort. No doubt her deadly uncles would be with her, too, to keep the circus manageable.

The woman was crazy.

He should have seen it coming. It was more in character for her than it had been for Katrin.

Her father would have done it, too. It was in the Ege blood.

“Oh, sigh! I don’t like it even a little but there won’t be any way to change her mind. I’ll have to make the Holy Lands safe before she gets here.”

Impossible, of course, even with the enthusiastic assistance of the Shining Ones.