by Glen Cook
"What rumor is that?" Brother Candle asked.
'That she's bribed the Brothen apostate… I'm sorry."
"No need. If you've heard that, news got out faster than usual." Brother Candle stated the facts as he knew them, feeling no need to keep any secrets.
"I hope you don't mind," Raulet Archimbault said. "I've invited the members of our circle in tonight."
"Not at all. An evening of talk and debate with your circle is what I need. They're intelligent people, open to the old ways. The ways of Aaron and Eis and the others." And they might turn up a few useful facts.
"Good. Though we'll be serious and practical for a while."
"Raulet?"
"We have worldly matters to discuss. We're having trouble refurbishing the works on the Reindau Spine."
"That would be?"
"The height overlooking Lake Trauen. Almost vertical, with a knife edge top. The stoneworks up there date from the bad times after the fall of the Old Empire. We're refurbishing them and laying in stores. Because someday the Adversary will make himself known in the End of Connec."
"I don't know the place but I understand what you're doing."
"Students everywhere have been getting ready since Black Mountain Massacre."
"When did Student come into use here?" Brother Candle asked. The usage was common in the dualist communities of the Grail Empire and the Lowland Duchies north of Arnhand, but not among the Connec's Maysaleans.
Raulet said, "I don't know. A year ago I wouldn't have understood that a believer who isn't yet Perfect could be considered a student. Now everybody knows."
"So. What's the trouble with your illegal fortification?"
"The cold. And ice. Everything is covered with ice up there. It's almost impossible to get there without falling and breaking something."
"Then don't go."
Raulet would have no congress with common sense. He shook his head, sorrowing at the Perfect Master's uninformed attitude.
"Ice?"
"The rain all turns to ice up there. When it does melt it drains down into places where it'll freeze and be more treacherous. Even the cisterns freeze over."
"They say the whole world is getting colder."
"Yeah. I don't remember it being nearly so cold when I was a kid."
"I don't know what to tell you. Except don't attract the Duke's attention. He has strong opinions about people who build their own forts."
Raulet sneered. "He may have strong opinions but it'd be ten years before he actually got around to actually doing anything. By then he'll be back for another go round the Wheel of Life."
The Learners' news swept across the End of Connec as swiftly as ever bad news does.
The Counts of Robuchon and Doy repudiated their oaths to the Dukes of Khaurene. They shifted their allegiances to Tramaine and Arnhand, respectively. Which allowed them to continue being enemies while aligning themselves with strong, decisive protectors. Jancar, Herve, Carbonel, andTerliaga formally took their allegiances southward, to Peter of Navaya, sheltering under the skirts of the day's strongest sovereign. A king not the least cowed by Sublime V.
Respect for Duke Tormond continued to wane. More local leaders hired more mercenaries, most of them Grolsachers. Which meant more refugees coming into the Connec in hopes of finding similar work. Neighbor fought neighbor. It became increasingly difficult to sustain the armed bands. Their to and fro destroyed resources. Travel grew ever more dangerous. Mercenaries who had not been paid indulged in fits of banditry. Then people who had lost everything fled to the wilds and became brigands themselves. In the very shadow and embrace of the Instrumentalities of the Night.
Those who could afford to recruited more mercenaries to guard what they had. While mercenaries who did not get paid not only robbed travelers, they turned on their employers and ate them alive.
The Chief Inquestor of the Patriarchal Office for the Suppression of Sacrilege and Heresy began to filter operatives of the Society for the Protection of the Faith into the eastern Connec. Many were retired members of the Brotherhood of War, come over from their island of Staklirhod. They were hard men accustomed to employing harsh methods.
Brother Galon Breul and a team twelve strong, confident of the righteousness of their cause, established themselves in Antieux while Count Raymone Garete continued to dally at court in Khaurene.
5. The Mother City: Sublime's Revenge
Hecht left the children with Anna Mozilla. Vali had not spoken yet. To an adult. She had Pella wrapped around her finger.
Anna was not pleased. "I don't know anything about children. Except that they're loud and dirty." She kept house obsessively.
"They're people. Just not as polished as you. Treat them like people. Pella's been through the survival wars. He's probably more grown up than you."
Not the best thing to say. But Anna had a knack for getting what he intended to say. Which saved a few blowups.
"What do I do with them?"
"Clean them up. Get some decent clothes on them. Put them to work around here. Pella will go stay with Pinkus as soon as he gets it worked out with Principate Doneto."
Anna's look made it plain she considered Ghort a long shot. "When will you tell me the whole story?"
"Soon as I get back. I hope. I missed you."
"You missed me? You have things to occupy you?" As near as ever she came to lamenting her lot.
"It was a long, mostly unpleasant journey." He would not share the more gruesome details. Like most warriors, he spared the innocent the worst.
Principate Doneto said, "As usual, you two have managed to avoid getting fired. By the expedient of having produced useful results. My cousin was thrilled to hear that Immaculate is desperate enough to try assassins."
Ghort asked, "How thrilled was he to hear about what happened to Haiden Backe?"
"Not at all. As you must know. He's summoned Bishop Morcant. We'll have to suffer Morcant's version of events before we're allowed to reach conclusions."
Meaning, Hecht supposed, that the conclusions had been concluded already and history would be hammered and polished till it fit. Because Sublime would want the official version to be one that served his purposes.
It was not a situation Hecht liked. Nor did Ghort. But their scruples would not be consulted.
Ghort had a miserable habit of spouting what he thought. "Easy to see where this is headed. That godsdamned thief will tell the world his victim is the villain because he had the effrontery to defend himself." He did not make clear whether he meant the Bishop of Strang or the Patriarch.
Doneto assumed the latter. "You may express that opinion with me, Colonel Ghort, but don't let me hear you say anything where people outside the family might hear."
"Heh? Why the hell? Is there anybody out there who doesn't know what kind of a dick he is?" So he did mean the Patriarch.
Anna Mozilla was psychic. Principate Bronte Doneto did not opt to find room for Pella in his household.
"Why did you see Doneto before you came to family?" Principate Delari asked Hecht. He asked similarly uncomfortable questions often. "I was disappointed, Piper."
"I went there first because Doneto is the man who can deflect the Holy Father's displeasure from Ghort and me. He won't gain any advantage from what I reported. Nor did Pinkus give him everything that he could have."
"I'm pleased to hear that."
"He could get me fired if he wanted. Who'd stand up for me? If he wanted Pinkus's job, though, three of the Five Families would get in the way as a matter of political principle."
"So. What will you share with me that you didn't let Doneto have?"
Hecht glanced around. "Where's Armand? I don't like telling you things in front of him. He makes me uncomfortable."
That irked the old man. "He's a boy, Piper. He cares about nothing but clothing and baubles."
"Even so, despite all, he makes me uncomfortable. I don't apologize for that." He would not tell the old man that his toy was an agent for
both the Grail Emperor and Gordimer the Lion.
Delari did something that seemed trivial, said, "Go ahead. No one will hear what you say but me. If you like, I can add a veil to make it impossible for someone to read your lips."
"That won't be necessary." Hecht told his guardian angel the whole story. Including his suspicions about Sonsa.
The old man said, "That bothers me. The Brotherhood giving up their inflexible rectitude. That's the problem with the Special Office. They want to conquer the darkness by drowning it with darkness."
Hecht did not raise the question of the elderly Principate's own devotion to powers drawn from the Night.
Delari went on. "I'm equally troubled by the monster on the West Road. Might it be a bogon? Possibly the one you ran into crossing the Ownvidian Knot?"
"I never was close enough to get a feel for it. Principate Doneto would be the man to ask. He handled the thing in the Knot."
Principate Delari shrugged. "I doubt he'd cooperate. His cousin won't let him."
When Hecht did not comment, Delari added, "Sublime really believes most people are cattle put on earth to enrich the Church. And the rest of us are here to help make Honario Benedocto's dreams and schemes come to pass."
Then he said, "He's decided not to punish Duke fon Dreasser. Not right now. You haring off gave time for cooler heads to prevail. So to speak."
"Oh?"
"There was time for word of what happened in the Connec to get here. The Collegium was outraged. Sublime did that without consulting anyone. He fell into a deep despair. He was counting on Backe and the Bishop of Strang to generate a flood of money. Instead, he's worse off than ever. His debtors are clamoring to be paid. No one will loan him another copper. Not just because of his poor prospects but because of the bad judgment he's shown in his efforts to acquire funds."
"They'd have given him an old-fashioned triumph if his scheme had worked," Hecht opined. His regard for those who facilitated the Patriarch's lunacies was low. There was no morality among them at all.
"Probably. Success erases all moral failure and defects. However… We can expect a period of uproar and outrage when the news gets around. Maybe a riot or two. Then life will go on as it always does. You may have noticed that assumption of the Patriarchal throne endows its occupant with considerable insulation."
"I have noticed." Hecht chuckled. "The way donning the Imperial vestments insulated the old emperors from everyone but their own families and palace guards."
Delari raised an eyebrow.
"No. I'm not floating a suggestion."
"Good. I'm much more interested in that powerful Instrumentality near Alicea. And in what may be afoot in Sonsa. The Sonsans have done well, concealing their troubles from the rest of us. Give them credit for clever."
Hecht did. The raging capitalists of the Firaldian and Direcian mercantile republics ran rings around more traditional states. They were possessed of an amazing energy.
How much more dangerous might they be were they not ones to waste resources fighting each other over markets and themselves for family supremacy inside the several republics?
Delari said, "An aside. Your man Consent's conversion. Is it heartfelt? Or a ploy?"
"I don't think it's a ploy the way we Chaldareans would see it. Deves don't suffer that much, here. Has he discovered the verities in the preachings of Aaron and the Founders? Maybe. But I think the passion driving him is his own need to escape the expectations of the Deve Elders. He just wants to be Titus Consent, one part in a machine, peerless at what he does, well rewarded for it-then able to go home to his family at night."
"You're friends?"
"No. But we're around each other a lot. We talk about life. I talk with everyone. Sometimes I learn something. From him. From you. Or even from Pinkus Ghort."
"I imagine Colonel Ghort is a fountain of low information and possibly a plebeian sort of wisdom."
"He's a good man to have at your back."
If Delari harbored reservations he did not relate them. "The girl's name. What was it?"
"Vali Dumaine."
"There's no important family in Firaldia with that name."
"There is one in Arnhand. Minor nobility. The current count is in bad odor with Anne of Menand. He wouldn't make the beast with two backs when she offered the opportunity."
"That wouldn't make sense. What would the Brotherhood hope to gain from a minor Arnhander?"
"Consider this, too. The girl doesn't talk but she understands Firaldian perfectly. Vulgar and High, both. At her age I doubt she would if she'd been kidnapped from north and west of Salpeno."
"I'll make inquiries. When you're Principate Muniero Delari of the Collegium you can ask for any damned thing you want. You get it without much question."
"Naturally."
"Again, I'm especially intrigued by that monster up there. Except for the thing you ran into crossing the Ownvidian Knot, there hasn't been anything like that seen since the dawn of history. Not since Era Itutmu came over from Dreanger with his elephants and armies and crew of tame monsters."
The Kaif of al-Minphet and those who recognized him as the Living Voice of the Founding Family discouraged interest in anything that happened before the Revelations and Conquest. Despite his decades in Dreanger Piper Hecht knew little about the priest-king general who tormented and terrified the young Old Brothen Empire for a generation. Pramans rejected the glories of their pagan ancestors.
"I won't speculate. That's your area of expertise."
"So it is. Once more about the villain from Viscesment, Rudenes Schneidel."
Hecht told it. "I think Schneidel is another enigma dragged up out of the shadows, like Starkden and Masant al-Seyhan when Calzir went crazy."
Delari nodded. "An interesting notion. Although I have heard of Schneidel. As a rumor out of the High Athaphile, and that only recently."
"I don't know that geography."
"The High Athaphile is the central mountain range on Artecipea, the big island in the Mother Sea between Firaldia and Direcia, southeast of the Connec. It's claimed by the Patriarchy, the Empire, and Peter of Navaya by his recognition of Calzir's claim, since much of Calzir passed to him by right of conquest. Peter and his Plataduran allies have made inroads. Neither we nor the Emperor can do anything but bark. We've got more immediate problems."
Hecht knew little about the islands of the western half of the Mother Sea. Vaguely, he recalled having seen Artecipea on a map. "Is that a Praman realm, then?"
"The Kaif of al-Halambra reckons it part of his kaifate. But in name only. He's occupied elsewhere, too. Sonsa and Platadura are the leading players there. No one else cares. There isn't much of value there."
"Except to sorcerers, apparently."
"True. It's a throwback land. The pagan presence is strong. It's been ages since anyone bothered to slaughter them so the survivors turn to the Church for salvation."
Piper Hecht enjoyed Principate Delari's cynical attitude. But he made a face. His own purported homeland had a long history of murdering the pagans of the Grand Marshes.
Delari ignored that. "We'll try to dig out the connection between Rudenes Schneidel and the attacks on you."
"Colonel Ghort plans to send a man to Viscesment."
"Tell him to be careful. Pagan sorcerers have cruel habits."
"I know the man he'll send. He served with us in the Connec. He'll treasure caution like it's his secret name."
"Good. See Consent. Arrange his rebirthing ceremony. We're coming up on Heron's Day. That evening would be perfect for it." Heron had been a fanatic Dainshau religious monitor, fierce in his suppression of the Chaldarean sacrilege-and barely tolerant of the Devedian-before suffering a dramatic, overnight conversion. Heron credited the Apparition of the Well of Atonement for showing him the way.
The Apparitions of the Wells were critical, if minor, entities in the narrow Dainshau pantheon.
"That should do. I'll let him know."
Delari smiled a small
smile that Hecht would not understand until later. He said, "That's enough of that. Come walk with me, Piper."
Hecht thought they were headed for the baths. He did not mind, after being on the road-though he resented spending the time. Chasing adventure just left him that much farther down the unconquerable mountain of his work as a military bureaucrat.
Delari forged on through the baths and regions beyond, which Hecht had not known existed. Delari took flights of stairs downward and down, into depths known only in rumor even inside the Palace.
Brothens were sure that the Chiaro Palace sat atop catacombs that descended a mile into the earth. They believed that all the major structures associated with the Patriarchy were connected by tunnels, including those on islands in the Teragi River, the Krois Palace and the Castella dollas Pontellas of the Brotherhood of War.
The Principates Hecht dealt with regularly never confirmed nor denied the rumors. The Collegium savored the mystery surrounding them. Even the outright lies. They left rivals and enemies unsure.
Hecht asked no questions. If Delari meant to confuse him so he could not find his way again, he would fail. Sha-lug were trained to remember under much more distracted and stressful conditions.
"Just in through here."
Hecht took three steps, halted, astounded. He faced an empty space as vast as the basilica where the Patriarch celebrated holy days with the Collegium and bishops. The ceiling arched eighty feet above the floor. There were no pillars other than those supporting the balcony on which Hecht stood, twenty feet above the chamber floor. Wooden catwalks crisscrossed the chamber, at the level of the balcony. The vast chamber appeared to have been carved out of limestone bedrock.
The Collegium was supposed to be a conglomeration of powerful sorcerers. Piper Hecht had seen little evidence of that, though the old men of the Church had made a small effort during the Calziran pirate incursion a few years ago. Here, though, he saw proof enough for him.
