by Glen Cook
“He’ll think about it. But his main interest will be Andesqueluz. Az? Am I right?”
“Probably. We brought him those mummies, back when. Nobody knew why. It looks like they didn’t matter because he never did anything with them. It makes sense that he’d head for the Haunted City if he couldn’t reach his usual hideout. There’s something important to him there.”
Nassim mused, “We don’t know that he didn’t get what he wanted from those mummies. He wouldn’t tell anybody.”
“He would have, in his own way. He would have used it.”
“Probably so. Let’s forget it. Let’s look at tomorrow. What can we do to make him miserable if he does turn up?”
“Why are you looking at me?”
“Because you’re the only Master of Ghosts within a hundred miles.”
“But useless as a racing saddle on a pig in a face-off with er-Rashal.”
“I don’t want you to face off. I might ask you to be a Judas goat. And not that if we can lure him some other way.”
Silence descended. After a time, one of the Mountain’s old followers said, “The Lion has been laid low.” He used a wondering tone suggesting that the point not be overlooked.
Bone said, “He’s right, General. And Gordimer, being Gordimer, never made no arrangement for who should take over next. But, damn! I wanted it to be us who took him down.”
Nassim said, “God has His Plan.”
More silence. Alizarin’s old companions retained little fervor for the Almighty’s mysterious design.
Nassim added, “But God’s Will is best executed by those who prepare most carefully. What could we do if we did lure er-Rashal into a trap?”
“You need to back up,” the Master of Ghosts said.
“Az?”
“Before you go worry about that you need trustworthy intelligence on where the Rascal is, where’s he’s headed, and what he means to do once he gets there.”
“Of course I do,” the Mountain said. “But how will I get it? Send you out to ask him?”
Bone suggested, “You can’t go wrong starting with his character. Who he is will determine what he does and the way he does it.”
That precipitated a vigorous exchange. Anyone who knew anything about er-Rashal tossed it in.
In time, Nassim said, “I’m worn out. Let’s sleep on this. The key points are: the Rascal’s inflated opinion of himself, his contempt for the intelligence of others, and his hatred for us. That’s where we’ll find our leverage.”
Alizarin went to his pallet wondering if he did not think too much of himself, too. Would the world’s most powerful sorcerer, however petty, bother with the nagging fleas of Tel Moussa?
He should worry about Rogert du Tancret. Black Rogert meant to rid himself of the nuisance wasps’ nest called Tel Moussa. That was common knowledge. The Mountain’s Lucidian youths, who mixed with locals, heard it every day.
Of course, what they heard might be what Black Rogert wanted them to hear. The man was a cunning villain.
Nassim had plans for Black Rogert, built upon du Tancret’s character.
Alizarin fell asleep wondering if his enemies studied him.
8. Antieux, in the Connec: Sorrow Wakens
Brother Candle watched two young girls care for Lumiere. Even without Kedle Richeut’s cousin Escamerole supervising they would have treated the baby like a new little god. For all their savagery and bad temper, Count Raymone and Countess Socia were venerated in Antieux.
Bernardin Amberchelle found him. “Master?” He beckoned.
Stepping out, the Perfect remarked, “You’re back. And you look excited.”
“I am. A messenger came from Khaurene. The Queen says it’s time for Raymone to take over as Duke. She wants to get back to Navaya.”
“She’s had a change of heart?”
“Sort of. She’s decided she needs Connecten support to offset the Navayan nobility. Raymone is the only Duke most Connectens will accept.”
“I thought she got along with her nobility.”
“You know the class. There are always villains looking for a chance.”
The way of mankind, Brother Candle reflected. A breed never satisfied and often willing to indulge in the ugliest behavior to snatch up any gossamer strand of power. “All right. But there’s more, right?”
“Yes. We didn’t find what we were after. But that was because the ship sent to get Serenity off his island ran into a Plataduran galley.” Bernardin had friends in remarkable places. “But here’s the hot stuff. Next time Serenity tries he may have Anselin with him. Anselin has disappeared. Those who went to the Holy Lands with him don’t know what became of him.”
“You mean to head them off on the river?”
“We’ll go back out as soon as we refit.”
“And you want me to tag along to bear witness to your wonder work.”
“Not at all. We want you to stay here and make Socia act like she’s somebody’s mother.”
The Perfect’s mouth opened and shut but he had nothing to say.
“Raymone isn’t blind. He sees Socia making a bad start. We both suffered through bad mothers. He hoped Sister Claire would make his point. But Socia is Socia. That was far too subtle.” Which explained Sister Claire, using Raymone’s logic. “Raymone wants Socia to be a better mother than his was. But he doesn’t know how to get her to do it.”
“And I do?” Why not just shove Socia up against a wall and tell her? The girl understood plain speech, directly delivered.
“Socia worships you. Maybe because she never knew her father.”
“I understand that.”
“She does listen to you.”
“On rare occasions. When I trick her into thinking she came up with the idea herself, then challenge it, so she gets stubborn and defends it.”
“There you go. You’ve found a way the rest of us couldn’t.” Bernardin continued, “We won’t stay long. We want to be gone before the bishop’s spies figure out what we’re doing. So Raymone says. But I think he wants to go before Socia decides she’s healthy enough to tag along.”
“I agree. Socia does need to understand that her obligations as a mother didn’t end with the delivery.”
“Excellent. I’ll tell Raymone he can count on you.”
“About Khaurene…”
“Use that to distract Socia. Let her organize the expedition while she learns how to care for Lumiere. Raymone means to head west as soon as we handle this. Maybe dragging some high-profile prisoners.” Bernardin chuckled. “Wouldn’t Isabeth love to lay hands on Serenity?”
“I wouldn’t want to be in his boots. Or even Anselin’s. Though she’d probably ransom Anselin. He hasn’t done anything.”
“Tell Socia not to make you walk. You deserve a sedan.”
“Now you’re trying to bribe me.”
“Maybe. Take care. We shouldn’t be gone more than two weeks.”
* * *
Socia was on a rant. She stamped around, arms flailing. She used disreputable language and made no sense. Brother Candle had to suffer her wrath because Raymone was beyond reach. He paid little attention.
“You’re not even listening to me!”
“What’s that? I wasn’t listening.”
“Pay attention!”
“Not necessary. I won’t hear anything new.”
“You’re up to something, old man. What the hell is it?”
“What’s your child’s name?”
“What?” Taken off guard. “Lumiere. Why ask me a dumb question like that?”
“Who is Lumiere’s mother?”
“I am. What are you doing, Master?”
“What did you think of Sister Claire? Raymone’s mother?”
That stoked her fire. The only people she thought less of were people she had not met: Anne of Menand, Serenity, and, maybe, the Captain-General of the Patriarchal forces. Maybe.
Brother Candle asked, “Did Raymone tell you about having that woman for a mother?
”
“Yes.” Another rant, but shorter and tremulous. She knew she was being set up.
“Where is Lumiere?” The trap began to shut.
Frowning, “I’m not sure. With his nurses.”
“No doubt. No doubt. But here is the question I need you to answer. The important one. Give it some thought. Don’t just blurt something.”
“Shoot.”
“Why isn’t Lumiere with his mother? Why doesn’t his mother know where he is?” And, as she was about to explode, “Why does Raymone dislike his mother so much?”
* * *
Brother Candle did not expect to work miracles. Socia’s character had been under construction for years. A fresh recollection of Sister Claire only provided a small hammer.
Because he was who he was and his opinion mattered, Socia made an effort. But, even with the best intentions, she could not make herself into the perfect mother for the next Count of Antieux.
She shone much brighter at organizing the convoy for the journey to Khaurene.
Socia snarled, “I’ll never thank you for telling me I’m like Raymone’s mother. It makes me feel awful.”
“I understand, girl. You are what you are. But you have to make the effort. For Lumiere’s sake.”
“Master, if there was any way…”
“Maybe if you’d had a father and mother yourself…”
“Stop. I can’t be a traditional mother. I hurt because I have that lack. But I will do my best.”
“That’s all I ask. Raymone’s mother never tried.”
Socia indulged in a rant against her own failings.
“Really, girl, all you need to do is show the child that he means enough for you to make an effort. Whatever your feelings, remember that you’re not alone. Raymone is there. Have him remind you that though there are good men who had bad mothers there aren’t many bad men who had good mothers.”
“There you go again. No matter what I do, I can’t win.”
“Aren’t you getting more fanciful by the minute.”
* * *
Bernardin Amberchelle returned to Antieux sixteen days after his last conversation with Brother Candle. Three injured men carried him. He was the worst injured of the four.
Brother Candle heard it first as a rumor. Something dire had happened. He hastened to the Garete family citadel.
Furtive villains with a Society look were sneaking and lurking already.
* * *
“There you are!” Socia growled when, in accordance with instructions, Brother Candle joined her in Count Raymone’s audience chamber. He found the mix there curious. In addition to those functionaries to be expected in a crisis there were representatives from the religious minorities and the magnates of trade. And, close by the Countess, an especially grim Kedle Richeut, who beckoned Brother Candle.
Socia finished saying something to Alfeas Machin, the region’s premier vintner, and turned to Brother Candle. “Raymone came out on the short end.”
“It was a trap?”
“No. But the effect was the same. The big dummy forgot that Serenity was the bull sorcerer of the Collegium before he bought the Patriarchal Throne. He tried to capture the man instead of just killing him. A serious advantage for Serenity, who had no reason to hold back.”
The old man could think of no response.
“Bernardin says Serenity’s gang was wiped out. Serenity was hurt but escaped. Our survivors weren’t in any shape to chase him.”
“And Anselin?”
“He wasn’t there. Oh, fun!”
Bishop LaVelle had arrived. He was dressed in state and attended by lesser priests. He headed for the Countess, pushing people out of his way. He showed no deference to the Countess, no doubt considering her “just” a woman.
On the other hand, Brother Candle did not see the all-consuming arrogance characteristic of LaVelle’s predecessors.
The bishop commenced some sort of declaration.
Socia said, “Kedle, it is time.”
Kedle smacked the bishop in the back of the head with an axe handle. His companions found themselves facing swords, spears, and crossbows. Socia said, “Put them into the cells. I’ll deal with them later. Round up any Society vermin who come out of the woodwork.”
Kedle said, “I’m on my way.” She prodded the groggy bishop with her axe handle.
Many of Count Raymone’s retainers went along when Kedle left.
Brother Candle started to speak.
“In a minute.” Socia stood. She had been sitting in the seat that belonged to the Countess of Antieux. “The situation is in hand, people. Go back to your lives. Report unacceptable behavior when you see it. Raymone may be gone but that changes nothing. Antieux will be what Count Raymone Garete made it.”
Socia drove her point home by moving to her husband’s high seat.
The crowd buzzed while leaving. Socia leaned toward Brother Candle. “I’ll need you more than ever, now.”
“Really?”
“I’ll need you close to rein in my wrath. Terrible things are cooking inside me.”
“We can deal with that if you’re honest with me. Right now you need to focus on keeping the peace.” Outrages and atrocities were afoot already, he was sure.
“This isn’t a good day to be a known Episcopal. Or, worse, a member of the Society.” Slight smile.
Brother Candle had a sinking feeling.
She meant to let the mob exhaust itself on the Brothen Church, guilt or innocence irrelevant.
“Or to be Devedian or Dainshau?” Those minorities always suffered when civil order lapsed.
“No. I won’t tolerate that.”
A curious, violent child, Socia Rault. How would she enforce the safety of the traditional scapegoats?
Brother Candle prayed to the Good God that Raymone Garete was just lost. Or up to something deeply secret, and not truly dead. Otherwise, there would be no restraining Socia’s darker side.
He knew the hope was vain while hoping it.
9. Realm of the Gods: Twilight of the World
Gray smoke boiled out of the face of the Great Sky Fortress. A fierce rumble descended upon Piper Hecht and his companions, followed by a hailstorm of debris. Two smaller explosions followed that.
“What the hell?” Heris demanded. “What was that?”
“Somebody tripped my booby trap,” Hecht replied.
“Who could?” Anna asked. “Everybody is out.”
Debris kept falling. The stench of burnt firepowder arrived.
Hecht watched Eavijne. The explosion had so startled her that she had lost her hold on Heartsplitter, then her footing. She snatched at Geistrier but snagged it with just one finger. She lost her sack of apples, then her grip when she tried to save the fruit.
She commenced the long fall. Knife-edged basalt awaited two thousand feet below.
The ascendant changed shape, violently and painfully. He screamed as he plunged after Eavijne, a giant eagle driving itself downward faster than the goddess fell.
That was drama enough to halt all progress down the road to the harbor.
Heris asked, “Did you include godshot in your booby trap, Piper?”
“I did. Everything I could find, including two falcons. Whoever set it off has to be one of the devils.”
“That’s probably good thinking.”
The eagle caught the falling goddess. The pair passed out of sight.
Heris said, “How about we get on down, too? Before somebody gets into mischief down there.”
Hecht grunted. He was watching the rent in the Great Sky Fortress.
Heris suggested, “We might cobble up a couple more infernal devices.” She helped Hecht stare.
The breeze dispersed the smoke.
Hecht said, “Didn’t do damage enough.”
A black stain like heavy treacle flowed out of the breach and down the face of the fortress. Its boundaries were defined. It left no trail.
“The Trickster,” Hecht said. “He br
oke out.”
“The violent vibrations of the hammer mill must have weakened some of the seals. We didn’t notice.”
“That would explain why we felt his emotions toward the end. We should have been suspicious.”
“Stuff happens when you get in a hurry. The bucket is turned over now. Let’s get down there. I have the tools to deal with this.”
Hecht was amazed. Heris remained unconcerned. The escape of a seriously wicked Instrumentality was just a piece of business to be handled.
While the old folks fussed the girls ran to the edge of the gap to see what happened to Asgrimmur and Eavijne. Lila said, “Can’t see them. But they’ll be the first ones down.”
The girls considered the creeping stain on the face of the fortress. They considered the bridge, then the gap beneath. They whispered. Then Vali darted across the bridge.
Hecht bit down on a potentially distracting bellow. Asgrimmur was not there to catch another falling girl.
Anna held her tongue, too.
Pella said, “I love her, but that girl is a freak.”
Hard to argue, watching her fearless dash across colorful air.
Vali whipped Geistrier off the brass post and headed back, coiling as she came. She plucked Heartsplitter out of the fabric of the bridge, then managed it and the rope both as she came on.
Anna said, “You’d almost think she was one of them.”
“Yes.” For the first time in a long time Hecht wondered about Vali Dumaine.
She came straight to him, handed him the spear. “Can you believe it’s that light?”
Hecht exchanged looks with Anna while the others watched Geistrier shorten to its original length.
Vali tied the coil to her belt. “Where did that hammer end up? I bet we could break the bridge with it.”
The creeping treacle had vanished behind the curtain wall surrounding the Great Sky Fortress.
Hecht responded, “That could be. But it’s not here. Girl, we need to talk about you taking risks.” From the corner of his eye he caught Lila pulling a face at Vali, then smirking.
Heris said, “Save the lecture, Piper. We’re going to be last down the mountain as it is.”
“Let’s get hiking.”
Anna quipped, “This should be easier than coming up.”
“Kids. No running.”