by Glen Cook
I asked, "You ever see Glory Mooncalled?"
"What?" I'd startled him with the sudden shift. "No, I don't know anybody who has. Why?"
"I just wondered. I used to have a partner. He practically worshipped Glory Mooncalled. Because of his irreverent attitude." Though I couldn't imagine how someone could be more establishmentarian than a Loghyr gone sedentary. For folks like that revolution or change were not Good Things.
"Used to be a lot of that going around. You don't hear much of it anymore. Suppose we get this circus rolling? The sooner we handle it the sooner I come back home."
"I'm ready." I looked myself over again. I wasn't pleased. I looked like one of the boys. I hoped that didn't confuse me or anyone else.
Tama Montezuma was in the hallway talking to somebody when we left the library. The guy scowled at us. Mr. Nagit glared back. I paid the man no mind because Tama turned on the heat and made herself the focus of my existence. "Garrett? Look at you. Why'd they ever let you out of uniform?" The guy she was with sidled off past Mr. Nagit, plainly unhappy that anyone else was getting Miss Montezuma's attention. Men are that way. We can't help it.
Tama's eyes seemed twice as big as normal. What a case! Every woman I ran into seemed determined to fry my brain.
Mr. Nagit said, "Garrett."
"Uh. Yeah." He was Marengo's right hand. "Sorry, Miss Montezuma. Got to run. Work to do."
She smiled a smile both promising and predatory, moved on down the hall.
I just couldn't imagine where Tinnie got the idea that Tama was bony. "Whew!" I said.
Mr. Nagit agreed. "Yeah. What was that all about?"
When Tinnie was with me he'd seemed a normal, red-blooded Karentine sort of guy. "What?"
"That woman doesn't take a deep breath unless it has something to do with her meal ticket. And she just took you over the jumps."
"My ego can't handle it."
"Huh?"
"She wants to throw the boss over for me."
"Exactly. I thought she seemed extremely nervous."
Were we speaking the same language?
When we stepped out of the house I checked to see what the clouds were doing. My earlier expectations wouldn't be disappointed. Rain was coming. A real disappointment stood closer to hand. The horse I'd chosen now looked terribly ferocious for a swaybacked mare almost my own age. And then there were the dozen guys in freecorps outfits all looking like they were headed for the parade ground. I did a quick, paranoid scan of armbands, making sure noboby was dumb enough to wear his Brotherhood Of The Wolf allegiance on his sleeve.
"Is this necessary?"
"Somebody has to run messages. And those unfriendly centaurs are still out there."
Unfriendly to you, fellow.
I felt vulnerable despite having acquired a cutlery sampler.
Something slammed down on my shoulder. For an instant I thought an ogre had jumped me from behind, but when I turned my head I found myself beak to beak with the Goddamn Parrot. "Damn! I thought I lost you for good." I told Mr. Nagit, "You know, these things live a really long time. Someday you're going to want to have a family. Think how much fun your kids could have with their own talking bird."
"I wouldn't deprive your own future scions of the opportunity to enjoy such a wonderful experience." He laughed.
Him and his pals found my plight entertaining. Not one of them wanted his own talking shoulder ornament, no matter how dashing the look. I gathered my dignity and mounted up, getting it right way forward first try. I mouthed the notes of the trumpet call for charge and off we rode. A three-legged centaur would've had no trouble running me down.
97
Gilbey didn't like my idea even a little. "We don't want any more trouble here, Max."
The Old Man turned the letter Mr. Nagit had given him, as though Marengo might have scribbled a secret postscript on its blank side. He saw only what I saw, which was the North English seal. "We'll do it, Manvil." He turned the letter again. Whatever North English's message, it made a difference; but it left his old friend Max puzzled. North English's word obviously was gold to Weider. "Clear the great hall again." Wan smile. "Let this young gentleman's friends help." That was a subtle dismissal of Nagit and Gilbey both.
"Will this work, Garrett?"
"I don't know. My record hasn't been outstanding lately."
"No. It hasn't. On the other hand, most of our troubles could've been avoided if we'd listened to you in the first place. I understand that you're handicapped by the head start I allowed evil. But who could believe that such things might happen?" The latter he directed toward himself.
"North English will send in freecorps people he trusts. I assume you trust him. But, even so, I intend to bring in friends of my own."
"Whatever you think of the man, Garrett, he's my friend."
I confessed, "I do see him through different eyes. I'll also bring in some Guards people that Colonel Block trusts. Everybody can watch everybody. It'll be like party night at the pickpockets' hall."
Wan smile. "You missed the funerals."
"You had them already?" Of course he had. It was summertime.
"This morning. Early."
"I'm sorry. Nobody told me. I would've been there."
"No matter. You were doing the work of the Lord. I hope."
Max wasn't demonstratively religious but he did belong to one of the old-time hellfire and brimstone, rip off an arm for a finger and a head for an eye type of cults. Because of Hannah's incapacity he'd gradually lost interest in the workaday details of brewing the world's best beers. He remained the grand lord of the brewery with the final say about everything but he had abandoned the detail management to Ty and the brewmasters. I feared Hannah's passing might cause him to turn away from the business altogether and possibly even from life.
"Vengeance is mine."
"Can you pull it together by tomorrow?"
"I can." But I'd be one tired boy when I was done.
"Good. You'd better get started."
Now I was being dismissed.
As I opened the study door, Max said, "Lose the uniform, Garrett. If you're going to be roaming around alone, you don't want to ask for more trouble."
Max was right.
The comings and goings of freecorps messengers got noticed. The news spread at the speed of rumor. Tension soon filled the streets. Tempers grew shorter fast.
I had arrangements of my own to make. I couldn't use Nagit's men or brewery hands to complete them.
My proud destrier and I put on the miles.
I visited The Palms. Morley told me he could make it and he suspected that Puddle and Sarge and a few of the boys wouldn't mind a party, either. I left a message for Belinda, which Dotes promised to have delivered. Then I dropped in on Playmate, who not only was available and willing but saved me several hours by knowing where Saucerhead Tharpe was holed up. I then swooped down on Heaven's Gate where I talked to Trail and Storey and Miss Trim and, unfortunately, Medford Shale. Since I didn't have a keg under either arm or any treats for Shale any welcome was less than enthusiastic.
Shale could just keep on wondering why nobody came to visit him.
My weather-prediction skills proved acute. It was late afternoon when I went to see Saucerhead. It was raining. At times the downpour turned unseasonably ferocious.
Through everything the Goddamn Parrot never made a sound. That critter had to be trying to spook me out. Not that I missed the old, foul-beaked Mr. Big. Not even a little.
"Playmate's in. Morley's in," I told Tharpe, who wanted convincing. "The Dead Man might be in. If I can find him. And I particularly need you in. I don't think I can make it all happen without you." Of course I could. But everyone wants to be wanted, Saucerhead more so than most. And I had some special requests, each of which I explained carefully.
The big guy grumbled, "Gonna be a major pain, Garrett. That's a lot of work."
"You got something else going?" In the past he'd always had a good work ethic.
"Not
really. Winger had an idea about—"
"You've got to get away from her, man. You ever notice how she never gets hurt in any of her schemes?"
"Yeah. I know. It's not real nice but... All right, Garrett! Don't start that shit. I really hate it when somebody reminds me that I owe him."
I offered an evil chuckle reminiscent of the one I'd last heard from Colonel Block.
The head Guardsman was next on my list. I hit the street once I finished twisting Saucerhead's... uh... giving Mr. Tharpe his instructions. With cold water drizzling down the back of my neck. I have to get myself one of those big-ass riding cloaks now that I'm a cavalier.
"That a horse?" Saucerhead called after me, from the tenement doorway. "Are you riding a horse?" He didn't mention the condition of the monster. "I've seen everything now. It really must be important. I better get on this right away." He had a hat on his head already.
How many times have I said he and Winger didn't have sense enough to get in out of the rain? Made me wonder. He did have sense enough to wear a hat while he was out in it.
Pular Singe caught me leaving the Al-Khar, after I made arrangements with Block, who guaranteed Relway's cooperation. The good colonel was in a festive mood. An attempt to rescue Gerris Genord had been crushed without Guard casualties. One invader was dead. Two now shared Genord's cell. A couple of others, whose interest had been Crask and Sadler instead of their old pal Gerris, had gotten out again.
Very interesting.
I hated myself for thinking Singe looked like a drowned rat. But I couldn't help it. She did. A drowned rat in a wet shirt. "I hoped your people would notice me running around... Where'd you get the shirt?" It used to be mine. It was Tad Weider's before that.
"From the stuff you threw away. It would be a sin to let that go to waste."
The shirt didn't flatter her. Ratpeople just aren't put together like human people. "You could get trouble from the shapechangers."
She tried to smile. It was an obvious, conscious effort to ape the human expression. "They have been disappointed already. Many times."
The clothes had gotten scattered amongst Reliance's dependents. And they didn't care if the shirts had been tagged.
"I'm glad to hear it. What about my tools?"
"Tools?" She didn't understand. I reminded me to keep it simple and slow. She might be a genius of her kind but she was still ratpeople.
"The weapons I was carrying." That stuff wasn't cheap. Even when you took most of it away from the bad boys you ran into. Still, with a little creative billing amongst my various employers... Heh-heh-heh.
"I do not know."
I tried to recall if any could be traced to me or the Weiders if they turned up at the scene of some major villainy. I didn't think so. "Would Reliance let you go out to a party tomorrow night?"
I knew I'd picked the wrong words even before the Goddamn Parrot loosed the first noise to pass his beak in hours. Slow and simple, stupid. Before she leapt too far in her conclusions.
I said, "I'll be working there. I want to hire you to unmask the creatures with no scent. Nobody is as good as you are." I couldn't restrain a grin, which seemed to help. But it was sure misplaced.
What must people think of this rain-bedraggled crew, hatless me, a soggy parrot scrunched on my shoulder, leading a moth-eaten antique horse, practically hand in hand with a ratgirl who looked like she'd been drowned once then thrown back for good measure?
The thought made me look around for witnesses. By chance I glimpsed another drowned rat. "Did you know Fenibro is following you?"
Singe's immediate anger made it clear the wannabe boyfriend hadn't been invited. "I told him not to... " I couldn't follow what she said.
"It isn't important. Maybe Reliance sent him to watch out for you."
"One day Reliance will learn that I am not a belonging." I caught that easily enough. She added, "It may take a very painful lesson. I will help you look for the shapechangers." In seconds her enunciation had become nearly flawless.
"Speaking of whom. Are they still holed up in that old brewery?"
"Yes." Singe looked over her shoulder. She showed her teeth in an unfeminine threat display. If I'd been Fenibro I'd have gotten the hell out of there fast.
98
Max waved me to a seat. "Lay it out."
"This's only tentative. Subject to change as—"
"Don't bullshit me, Garrett."
The man had exhausted his store of patience. With everything.
"All right. In temporal sequence. Gerris Genord was a plant. Part of a part of this that goes back a few years. And just one of a bunch of plants that put Wolf people inside rich families and businesses. They were after money, plain and simple. It was the Wolves who approached Ty. He or the brewmasters may recognize some of the prisoners.
"Gerris would've known when Alyx decided to bring me in. He would've reported.
"At some point some of the Wolves would've run into some of the Dragons. They'd remember each other from the Cantard. The Wolves asked for help. Or maybe hired the Dragons. But the Dragons had their own agenda. They started using the Wolves when the Wolves thought they were using the Dragons. For their own reasons the Dragons decided to make your family their main target.
"When Genord reported that Alyx was trying to contact me the baddies did some research and decided I could cause trouble. They tried to distract me by involving me in the rights movement. The Dragon crew tried to recruit me. They were recruiting guys at the brewery already. When I showed up there one of those guys reported me and the shifters sent over a team from the Lamp brewery ruins. They failed to discourage me. Genord marked the clothing you gave me so I could be tracked. My part in events since then you know." More or less.
Manvil Gilbey stirred the fire. Max needed a lot of heat to keep going. Weider mused, "Dragons and Wolves using each other. The Wolves after money. What did the changers want?"
"A functional brewery. Don't ask me why. I still have to figure that out. Maybe changers came with a big thirst. But I've got a feeling, supported by not much more than intuition so far, that Glory Mooncalled is in all this right up to his mysterious neck." An implication in part dependent upon my interpretation of my partner's arcane nonbehavior. "I also think that whoever is managing the Wolves has been blackmailed into helping the Dragons. I keep picking up little whiffs of disharmony.
"I have a hunch that that manager brought Crask and Sadler back to deal with the blackmailers. Belinda turning up complicated life. Belinda is dedicated to turning those two good old boys into fish food. So this mystery Wolf decided to uncomplicate life by getting rid of Belinda and me. He gave Crask and Sadler the go-ahead without consulting the allies he planned to ambush later."
Oh what an elegant theorist am I. I was probably off the mark on half of this. But I didn't let a little thing like maybe being wrong slow me down. "After the excitement at the engagement bash Genord began to understand how badly he and his pals were being used. He sneaked away to raise hell about it. He got no satisfaction and, possibly pursued, was in a highly disturbed state when Lance and Ty surprised him at the front door. Since then things have been falling apart fast for the Wolves and Dragons both.
"Meantime, not one person involved in this has dealt with me straight. Everybody, including you, has had an agenda they didn't want to abandon. Although everybody told me a little something here and there so I could have a tool or two to go make things uncomfortable for some other guy. I don't know what your problem was, boss. Maybe you just didn't want a guy with dirt under his nails making the guests nervous by tracking real life all over the place. I'm offended but I'll stipulate that it's your house, your party, your call."
Max's gaze flicked to Gilbey for an instant. Ah. His idea, huh?
Gilbey asked, "You have any idea who this mysterious manipulator is?"
"Just a feeling. No evidence. But if this turns into the pressure situation I want it to become, somebody will point a finger, and say ‘He made me do it.' "
Gilbey stirred the fire again. Max looked thoughtful. I said, "There's more but those are the assumptions I'm working with tonight. We'll see how things come together."
99
I stood at the head of the grand staircase, overlooking the Weider great hall. Tinnie wriggled in under my left arm. Morley had reminded me to add her to the guest list, possibly saving me several centuries in Purgatory. Or what she'd make seem like several centuries. Morley's thoughtful effort balanced off about one talon's worth of the Goddamn Parrot.
Tinnie said, "If it wasn't in bad taste, I'd ask who died." There were a lot of people of various persuasions and allegiances below us, mostly gathered in sullen clumps. The main folks circulating, other than Mr. Gresser's serving crew, were hard-eyed men from Theverly's freecorps, the brewery, my friends, and even a few of Belinda's.
"Some parties just never come to life. Damn!"
"What?"
"Saucerhead brought Winger." Winger might decide that being up to her eyeballs in toughs and lawmen represented a challenge. I glanced up. A gaudy glob remained perched on the main chandelier, gawking at the mob. The bird was vitally alert and his beak hadn't gushed an abomination in the past hour. He was way out of character. I was concerned. But even Morley hadn't noticed. If we could just keep it that way...
Manvil Gilbey came out of Max's study. "Going to be much longer?"
"Still missing some key faces... Speak of the devil. Here come Colonel Block and the secret police." More hard-eyed men, probably not Relway's undercover goons because he wouldn't want their faces this exposed, came in through the front door. Some pulled chains. A few of my guests wouldn't be willing participants. Examples hove into sight: Crask, Sadler, Gerris Genord and his captive friends. Genord seemed particularly unhappy about returning to the scene of his crime.
Him and his buddies got dragged to a bench that was chained to a pillar. They wouldn't be lonely there. The bench already supported eight desolate Brothers Of The Wolf who hadn't scooted fast enough to avoid Lieutenant Nagit's roundup at The Pipes. Apparently Nagit even caught North English by surprise with that. He'd told me that Marengo had been put out in the extreme... according to Tama Montezuma, who continued doing most of his talking for him.