by Glen Cook
Katrin barked, “Don’t toy with me, Commander! I made you. I can unmake you in an instant.”
“You can, Your Grace. I merely report. How you respond is up to you. But the fact remains, there’s been a disaster in the Connec.”
The Empress fixed him with a searing gaze. She did not speak. Her attendants began to shuffle and mutter, worried. Hecht met her eye steadily. He did not like what he saw, a huge internal collision between personalities, each demanding control of the mind’s interface with the exterior world. A momentarily dominant personality asked, “You hired ships to move the material you captured?”
“I did. With what success isn’t certain. The courier who brought this news knows. But he collapsed before he could report.”
“There’ll be ships, then. We’ll cross the Vieran Sea.”
“What? Your Grace? What?”
“Serenity’s mad greed has made a widow of me. Now I’ll make him long for the quiet, gentle affections of my father before I kill him.”
Hecht gulped air. He gurgled. He trembled. This was … He could not find an adequate metaphor. He looked to the heavens. For a sign? In an appeal for divine intervention? The heavens did not speak. He saw nothing but a low overcast. Rain was coming.
Katrin said, “Forget the Holy Lands, Commander. We won’t be going till my barons have had their fill of what they’ve wanted since I took the ermine.” In a fainter voice, to herself, she said, “I can’t believe he betrayed me.”
Hecht concealed mild elation. He would not have to make war on his religious kin. For now.
Then he thought about Pinkus Ghort and other friends still active in the Patriarchal forces.
“That’s your decision, Your Grace?”
“Yes. Irrevocable. Serenity must be punished.”
“Then I’ll leave you. I have fresh work to do.”
***
The Commander of the Righteous watched unhappy soldiers board ships, none of those large. The horses were less pleased than the men.
Titus Consent arrived, gasping. “It’s really real, what I hear?”
“Yes. And completely off the cuff. Great job pulling the transport together.”
“Not really. I had only to say the Empress wanted to hire ships. There isn’t much work for these sailors, these days. That’s every boat and coaster capable of being bailed fast enough to not sink.”
“We’ll use them all. I’m taking four hundred men and the captured falcons. Messengers are headed for Glimpsz with orders for men there to get down to the coast so they can be brought along next.”
“You intend to invade Firaldia with four hundred men?”
“They won’t be expecting me. And Katrin will call out the garrisons of the Imperial cities.”
Consent grumbled, “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s a challenge.”
“Sounds like a suicide run.”
“The first Praman army to invade Direcia numbered seven hundred.”
“It isn’t so much the numbers. What gets me is, we’re getting distracted from our proclaimed task again.”
Hecht frowned. “Explain.”
“Once upon a time we were hired to help tame the Connec. You were, actually. I didn’t know you then. You ended up conquering Calzir instead. Then, a while later, you were back in the business of taming the Connec and doing a damned good job, thanks to my help. You had the eastern half in the bag. Then we get a new Patriarch and we’re off to pound on some pagans in Artecipea instead. So. Now we’re supposed to be getting ready for the biggest damned crusade ever to head into the Holy Lands. And we’re getting on with it really good. But. So. All of a sudden, here we go again, getting aimed in a different direction.”
“You could be on to something. Makes you wonder about divine intervention, doesn’t it?”
“Divine distraction, maybe.” Titus counted ships. “If I was inclined to worry, I’d wonder why God is suddenly pissed off at Serenity.”
“Maybe the Maysaleans are right. Maybe their Good God is stepping in.”
Titus was appalled. Titus took his faith seriously though he was no fanatic concerning points of dogma.
***
No one told the ship owners and sailors where they were headed till after the troops and cargo were loaded. The soldiers themselves were not informed till it was too late for news of their coming to beat them across the Vieran Sea. Thirty-two vessels put out with the feeble evening tide.
The Mother Sea was landlocked. Tides there were minimal. Only in very narrow places were they of much import.
There was vast confusion. The sailors had no experience sailing in convoy. Despite that, collisions were few and did no harm. Only one small vessel was lost. It went hard aground on an unexpected rock near the Firaldian coast. Crew and passengers survived. The weather turned no worse. The wind blew just hard enough to carry the fleet across quickly enough to let the landing start at sunrise, after forty-two hours at sea.
The landing took place on a beach of Vis Corcula, one of the least of the Patriarchal States, though a principality. It was not strong. Prince Onofrio was not fanatically devoted to the Patriarchal cause. He should do little more than go through the motions.
Ashore, Hecht polled his troops, looking for someone who knew the territory.
He settled for a peasant couple whose curiosity brought them too near and whose cupidity overruled their patriotism.
By midmorning a comfortable villa with a sea view had become Imperial headquarters. By noon the Empress herself had taken up residence, her presence undesired but her behavior beyond reproach. She did not interfere. Having declared the strategic objective she was content to let her Commander deal with operational details. For the moment.
Piper Hecht pushed on with two hundred men and fourteen falcons, toward Fuerza. His lieutenants took smaller bands to show the colors in the principality’s villages.
The Imperial advent was completely sudden and unexpected. There was little resistance. One firepowder barrage discharged outside Fuerza convinced the would-be diehards.
***
Prince Onofrio Taglio di Fuerza bent the knee to the Grail Empress at the Fertelli villa thirty-two hours after her arrival.
Katrin was not harsh. Hecht had convinced her to be gentle with those who cooperated. His reputation, from the Connec, would give thought to those inclined to resist. Terms were: Onofrio had to provide some foodstuffs, some drayage, and fifty armed men who would not be required to fight the Patriarch. Onofrio had no trouble agreeing. In return there would be no plunder, no rapine, no murder — so long as the Prince and people of Vis Corcula did not hinder or harm the Imperials.
Heris popped in as Hecht was about to lie down his second night in Firaldia, in a villa near Vis Corcula’s western frontier, beside a road that crossed the Monte Sismonda to the Old Empire’s central military road, which, in time, reached Brothe.
He could reach the Mother City in three days if he wanted to push it hard. If nobody got in his way.
He had numbers enough to cause panic but not nearly enough to attack a sizable city, even taking it by surprise. Nor would Bronte Doneto allow himself to be captured. And that would be the only way to end this quickly.
Heris observed, “You should be too tired to be that jumpy, Piper.”
“I’m tired, all right. Of …”
“Don’t waste time. I’ve got to go lead my dwarves to the promised land pretty soon. Here’s what you need to know. The news about Katrin being pissed off and after Serenity’s guts hit Brothe a couple hours ago. About one hour before word that you’re here in Vis Corcula, in a bad mood, and headed that way.”
“Word gets around fast when the news is bad.”
“You don’t know the half. The city is in a panic. The Collegium worst of all. You really got the hoodoo on some of those old men. I don’t get that.”
“Blame Principaté Delari.”
“Grandfather?”
“He’s no adventurer. But he knows how to
lay down a lie and make it smell like gospel. I’d bet he started some rumors.”
“Could be.”
“He doesn’t like Bronte Doneto.”
“Serenity has been screwing with him since you signed on with the Empire.”
Hecht sighed. “Life is strange. And keeps getting stranger.”
“Preaching to the choir, little brother. Ten years ago I was a slave, hauling water and lying down for an asshole … No! That’s all gone. Though I did birth a couple of children I wonder about sometimes.”
Hecht grunted. This was news. “Do the old men know?”
“I never mentioned it. I’m not sure why I’m telling you.”
“Did Drocker know?”
“If he did, grandchildren didn’t interest him.”
“Same with me. Though I didn’t know who or what he was till you and Delari told me.”
“You have children, too?”
“Two daughters, last seen in al-Qarn. By now they may have starved, died of a pox, or been murdered by the regime. I was promised that they’d be cared for. I have no way to know what actually became of them. Now I’ve made Anna, Pella, Lila, and Vali into a new family. Serenity better let them be!”
“Calm down, Piper. Grandfather will look out for them. And Serenity knows they’re protected.”
“I’m calm. How pressed are you?”
“Depends on what you want.”
“It would be useful to know what the rest of the Righteous are doing and how soon I can expect them. It would be nice to know how the Patriarch hopes to keep me from making the Empress happy. And I’d love to know how this is playing in Alten Weinberg and Hochwasser.”
“You don’t want much, do you?”
“If I’m going to wish I might as well wish for the stars. Information is addictive.”
“Sure. I’ll do what I can. But, like I said, I’ve got a herd of dwarves to keep in line and a clutch of gods to bully.”
“All …”
Someone pounded on the door to the room, tried to get in. Hecht had barred it.
Heris stepped into a dark corner, turned but did not leave. She could vanish without notice if necessary. Hecht opened the door. It had begun to creak as people shoved against it. He found Rivademar Vircondelet and several self-appointed lifeguards about to use a bench for a battering ram. “What in God’s Name are you doing?”
“Kinzer heard voices. We thought you might be in trouble.”
“Did I call for help?”
“No, sir. But …”
“Go away. And don’t do this again.”
The men behind Vircondelet were trying to see inside. They looked less sheepish than they ought.
Hecht shut the door.
“They’re worried about you.”
“They’re more worried about themselves. They watch me close because they think that I died and came back to life.”
“You did. But you weren’t possessed by the Night. We kept all that at bay.”
“I did? I died?”
“I thought you understood that.”
“I … No. I thought …”
“Don’t you go getting silly, too. There’s nothing different about you. A lot of people have been gone much longer than you were. They came back untouched. Will you still be here tomorrow night?”
“Probably. I don’t have the manpower to take this much farther. An unexpected diplomatic success could change things, though.”
“See you tomorrow night, then.”
***
An unexpected diplomatic success occurred. The high roads of Firaldia swarmed with messengers, Imperial and Patriarchal. On the Imperial side the news they carried was good. The nearest Imperial cities quickly affirmed their support for the Empress. Several nearby Patriarchal dependents volunteered to stay out of the squabble. “Promises written on air,” Titus Consent observed. “They’ll turn on us if Serenity has any success.”
“Of course. That’s Firaldian politics. They’ll never change.”
“Unless a strongman comes along and ends it.”
“Someone strong and long-lived. Johannes might have managed if he’d survived al-Khazen.”
Consent shrugged. “He did, we’d be on the other side, here.”
“No doubt.”
“I’m thinking Johannes’s offspring might have what it takes, too. If it interests them. If they have the drive.”
“Meaning?”
“Katrin and Helspeth are both capable of making the tough decisions. And their people seem accustomed to the idea of a female monarch, now. But the Empress doesn’t seem to have the commitment.”
“Uhm?”
“She’s changeable, boss. We could be knocking on the gates of Brothe and she’d get distracted by some ephemeral ambition somewhere else.”
“She’ll be constant till she’s shoved Serenity against a wall and made him explain why her special guy is no longer among the living.”
“You’re enjoying the hell out of this, aren’t you?”
“Titus?”
“You’ve changed since the Empress changed her mind about Serenity and the Church. You’re happy about it. Even though we’re likely to end up having to face friends we campaigned with before.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Titus. I hope we can give Katrin what she wants before Pinkus can disengage in the Connec.” Word from that direction had the Captain-General facing serious difficulties. Serenity had few friends in the eastern Connec. Count Raymone Garete and his Countess had harvested the crop.
Hecht did think that Serenity would scream like a scared little girl when he understood what was headed his way. He was very much the product of his past.
His Plemenzan captivity had not been harsh. It was just time taken out of his life. But torments he had suffered earlier in the Connec remained tattooed on his soul. Never again would he allow himself to be at the mercy of another.
Failure, defeat, surrender, captivity, none were acceptable options. Unless God deserted him completely.
Hecht desperately hoped to see Heris again. The more he eyed the chances of success the more worried he became for Anna and the children.
There was an ancient saying: “Children are hostages to Fortune.” And, unhappily, any other asshole who could lay hands on.
***
A grimly weary Heris turned sideways, into being, seconds after Kait Rhuk and Drago Prosek left Hecht. She grumbled, “I know. I can sleep after I’m dead.”
“You can’t tell if there’s somebody here before you do that, can you?”
“Sometimes. Mostly not. I can halfway arrive and keep from being seen if I’m rested enough.”
“You missed popping in between Rhuk and Prosek by five seconds.”
“That would’ve been embarrassing.”
“You think?”
“Worried about them finding out?”
“Absolutely. About anyone finding out. We have a huge advantage as long as nobody knows. We lose that fast as soon as they do.”
“Get one of those folding screen things to drag around with you. Wherever you set up shop, put it in a corner so I can pop in behind it. That way I can get away again without anyone seeing if you’ve got somebody with you.”
“That might work. What do you have for me?”
“You don’t have a social life, do you?”
“What?”
“I know. All business, all the time. Saves having to deal with stuff. Story of my life, too.”
Hecht was confused. This was not the Heris of his experience. “You’re hanging around with the Ninth Unknown too much. You’re turning into another him.”
“I am a bad girl, little brother.”
Heris proceeded with a long report, some of it not very interesting. Since her last visit she had been a fly on the wall in a dozen venues, including Krois in Brothe, Pinkus Ghort’s camp a dozen miles above Antieux, Alten Weinberg’s Winterhall, Hochwasser, and even briefly in Salpeno, where Anna of Menand was ecstatic about the
deaths of kings at Khaurene. There was panic in Krois and elation in Alten Weinberg because Katrin had come back to her father’s path. There was crippling indecision in Ghort’s camp. Pinkus himself was willing to carry out orders but he was up to his ears in legates, envoys, Society angels, and other pests, all of whom insisted on telling him what to do.
Though the news about the Empress was fresh, levies had been assembling at Hochwasser for weeks, according to annual custom. Those forces were in motion already, according to a marching plan laid down in the reign of Johannes II. That plan was no secret. Once through the Jagos the Imperial main force would advance down the West Way toward Brothe. Resistance would arise mainly at river crossings.
Thus it had been with invasions and defenses for two thousand years. Thus it would go. Geography dictated it.
“Nothing remarkable there,” Hecht said. “And though they’ll make a lot of racket, they won’t move with any vigor. How close to Serenity did you get? What’s his plan?”
“Close enough to sit on his lap. If I wanted. Close enough to blow hot air down the back of his neck. Close enough to convince him that his favorite wing of Krois is haunted by Ostarega the Malicious and Ostarega doesn’t love him.”
“Ostarega the Malicious?”
“One of the early Bad Patriarchs. His reign name was Clement. The Second. He was awful. God had the Collegium bend him over a wine cask and hurry him on to Paradise by impaling him with a white-hot iron rod. So there would be no blood spilled.”
“Strangling or drowning would’ve worked.”
“That wouldn’t have made a strong enough point. It was personal.”
“I guess so. Serenity’s plans?”
“The reason I keep him jumping. The haunted wing of Krois is where the good quiet rooms are.”
Hecht controlled his impatience. If he barked too loud Heris might just go away. So he said, “Good thinking.”
Heris did a little jig, absurd for a woman of middle years. “I’m so smart!” Like a child. Grinning. “All right. I’m done messing with you. He means to pull together every man he can and come straight at you, through the Shades.” The Shades being the nearest stretch of the Monte Sismonda, the mountain range forming the spine of the Central Firaldian peninsula. Why the local stretch was called the Shades had been forgotten. It had been the Shades when the Old Empire arrived.
