by Glen Cook
Hecht reported her acquiescence. The blond woman told him, “Have her show the teamsters what she wants taken away.”
Hecht shuddered. Her voice raised his hackles. But it was not a fight reflex. It was more like a reaction to the proximity of some unseen element of the Night.
He stepped back. Why should she disturb him? Was he sensing some subtle threat? His amulet was quiet. Nothing dark was stirring nearby.
He returned to Anna. Osa Stile regarded him closely.
Pinkus Ghort materialized. “What’s with the wagons, Pipe?”
“Delari sent them. He’s moving us to his town house.”
“Sweet deal. You really got yourself an angel.”
“Yes. I’m lucky. And it worries me.”
“Afraid he’ll bend you over in the bath?”
“No. That I could handle.” He realized Ghort was ribbing him. “Good luck makes me nervous. I never had much.”
“Good. Because you don’t worry enough. About the right things.” Shifting topic, he said, “We’ve made some arrests.”
“Already?”
“Already. A little luck, a lot of good old stupid, and a hundred men to find out where the firepowder came from, all help you move fast. Toss in a lot more stupid and you come up with people you can slap into chains.”
“A little more detail would help me understand.” He watched Anna confer with the blonde. Both seemed unusually wary.
“It took ten minutes to figure out that there’s only one private firepowder maker in Brothe. Wiggin Pinnska Sons in the Devedian quarter. It took them ten minutes to convince us that they hadn’t sold what went bang over here. They could account for every ounce they ever made. They sold it all to you. I looked at their facility. If they manufactured anything secretly, it couldn’t have been more than a few pounds. They have a hard time getting saltpeter. They get it from Shippen or Artecipea.
“Now, according to Wiggin Junior, two months ago somebody wanted to buy five kegs. The Pinnskas sent them to the Graumachi brothers. Apothecaries. They had some saltpeter. We visited them. They said they would’ve gone ahead and made some firepowder except for one technical problem. They didn’t know how.”
Interesting. Though firepowder weaponry had begun to proliferate, the secret of the powder’s manufacture remained closely held by those who had acquired it.
“So now it starts to get interesting,” Ghort said. “Hello, Lieutenant.”
Titus Consent joined them, as did Anna soon afterward. “Good afternoon, Colonel. Captain-General.”
“Titus. Go ahead, Pinkus. Interesting how?”
“The buyers told the Graumachis that they had to get permission from Artecipea to hand over the formula and instructions. They didn’t know how you make firepowder.”
“Artecipea?”
“Where Rudenes Schneidel supposedly hides out.”
“I thought he was in Viscesment.”
“Not anymore,” Ghort said. “I’ve been trying to hunt him down.”
“So have I,” Titus Consent said. “Anyone who knows anything says he went back to his home island.
I’ve had no luck finding out anything there. Sonsans and Navayans keep getting in the way.”
“Anyhow,” Ghort said, “I’ve got men working the waterfront now. They’ve already swept up some Artecipeans connected to the people we arrested here.”
“Impressive speed. Very impressive.”
“Not so much when you realize that all these people were too stupid to understand that there would be a bigass man-hunt after something like this happened. Who go around bragging that they were involved.
Titus, my man, you had something for Pipe?”
“Nothing helpful with this. I’m off early because Colonel Smolens wants me to find out what’s happening.
We’re behind schedule. He doesn’t want to fall farther back because he didn’t know the Captain-General was hurt too bad to work. The Patriarch seems serious about an expedition to punish Count Raymone Garete for his persistent defiance.”
Hecht blurted, “Stupid! Stupid! Can’t anybody make him listen?”
“No. He hears what he wants to hear. His cronies tell him what he wants to hear. And right now he wants to hear about disasters happening in the Connec.”
“This something new? More of his bandits get themselves butchered?”
“There’s that. And more. A chest of Arnhander specie arrived this week. Another chest vanished en route last month. He blames the Connectens. Rumors say the men moving the gold decided they needed it more than Sublime does. A more sinister rumor says Anne of Menand arranged the disappearance to finance her own mad ambitions.”
“Insanity,” Hecht said. “I hope they get into it with each other.”
“I don’t think you’d like it if they did. We might have to fight Arnhand.”
“I don’t want to think about it right now.” He needed to stop talking sedition.
“Another reason I’m here. I’ve found workmen to do restorations. They’ll start in the morning. If that’s all right with you, Anna?”
“Oh, it’s fine. Thank God everybody is so thoughtful and practical. All I’ve done is worry about Piper and the children.”
“You really moving to Delari’s town house?” Ghort asked.
“Looks like.”
“Lucky shit. My angel is a goddamned tightwad.”
“What’s he say about Delari? Especially lately?”
“He don’t like him much. So what? None of them like each other. Hugo Mongoz, whenever he wakes up long enough, hates the whole goddamned world. But you don’t see him in no hurry to leave it.”
“I heard them arguing a while back. It got pretty hot. Something about Doneto trying to sabotage Sublime.”
Ghort looked like someone had slapped him with a board. “That’s nuts.”
“Maybe I heard wrong.”
“You must have. Look. I’m gonna have those guys cover Anna’s place. What I want to tell them …
Here’s the thing. I’ve got to let a bunch more guys go come the end of the month. They’ll be a lot happier if they can get on with you than if they’ve got to wait for a spot to come up with the militia.”
“Sounds like I’m hiring, want to or not. Fine. Tell them. But they need to look out for all these houses, not just Anna’s.”
Anna rushed off to bark at a teamster for not being careful enough with her furniture.
Hecht looked for the blond woman and Osa Stile. He did not see her but Osa was in tripping range, eavesdropping. Unabashedly.
Ghort noticed him, too. “Isn’t that …?” He backed away, holding Hecht’s arm, then turned his back to Stile. “I just twenty minutes ago heard from Bo. He’s got a report for you.”
“Really? I’d about given up, it’s been so long.”
“He had a rough, slow go of it. What do you want him to do?”
“He can come to the town house. I’ll stay there till Anna and the kids get settled.”
“And then?”
“Then it’s likely we’ll get to take a trip to the Connec.”
“God help us all.”
“I don’t think anyone else can.”
Darkness was near. Principatè Delari’s staff — all three — helped the teamsters carry things into the house, without enthusiasm. Piper Hecht stood halfway between the wagons and the doorway, not watching the teamsters so much as the surrounding night. He never, never trusted the night.
There were people out there who wanted to kill him. There was the malice of the night itself.
He scratched his left wrist. There was some faint sorcery going on somewhere close by. Maybe inside the town house. The Principatè might be in there.
Scratching, he reflected that there had been no warning before the firepowder cart exploded. Again, the attack had been straightforward.
Because the mastermind knew he would be forewarned about any sorcery?
Probably not. Somebody was using the tools at hand.
/> Somebody kept failing. But the sad fact was, somebody only had to get it right once.
The blond woman joined him. She said nothing immediately. He told her, “We’ll do our best not to inconvenience you.”
She grunted like a man. “I won’t be the best housemate. I don’t know how. I live like a hermit. I seldom leave. The only people I see are Turking and Felske. And Mrs. Creedon. And Grandfather, when he comes around.”
Her voice lacked animation. That chilled Hecht. “Turking and Felske?”
“The servants. They’re married. Mrs. Creedon cooks and does what she can to help the other two. She’s a widow.”
“You were here first. You set the rules. Within reason. I don’t want the children sleeping in the garden.”
The woman weakly laughed. “I’m not used to the little beasts but I think I can cope.”
“They’re calm for their age.”
“Your woman, though. She doesn’t like me.”
“She feels threatened. I don’t know why.”
“Does she enjoy coffee?”
“I couldn’t say. We haven’t shared any since we’ve been together.”
“I’ll go brew some.” Little smile. “It’s one thing I do well.” She strode away, forcefully while slightly bent, as though expecting a blow. She was focused and alive, suddenly. Hecht wondered what her story was.
Anna materialized. Hecht was startled, noting how short she was, compared to the other woman. She was much bigger in his mind. “What was that all about?”
“Trying to work out how to get along. I gather she isn’t used to people. Especially kids. But she wants to get along. Because the Principatè wants it.”
“And he’s her free ride.”
“Ours, too, right now.”
Anna did not respond but seemed determined to be sour.
“You have a problem with her? Do you know her from somewhere?”
“Never saw her before Titus’s conversion. And I can’t explain why she bothers me. She just does.”
“Know something? She bothers me, too. And I don’t know why, either. But I don’t feel threatened.”
The last wagon pulled away. Anna said, “I’ll make the best of it. We probably ought to go inside.”
“I’m waiting for somebody.”
“They can knock.”
The blonde’s coffee improved Anna’s attitude dramatically. “Oh. I haven’t had coffee since my wedding.
I’d forgotten how wonderful it is.”
The blonde said, “It’s useful, having a grandfather who belongs to the Collegium.” Which startled Hecht.
That sounded like an attempt at a joke.
Turking appeared. “There is a person to see you, Captain-General.” Someone he disapproved.
“Where?”
“At the door.”
Hecht turned to the woman. “This will be business. A spy. Where can I interview him without disturbing the household?”
“The room where you spoke to Grandfather before. That’s what it’s for.”
Hecht left the women chatting.
***
BO BlOGNA WAS SKITTISH. He KEPT LOOKING INTO CORners. He wouldn’t sit in one of the rude chairs. He prowled incessantly.
“What the hell, Bo? What’s got you like this?” Biogna was cool, irreverent, and sarcastic, normally.
“What did you find out?”
“The guy in brown … I don’t know … I couldn’t … He may be a ghost. He pops up and disappears like one. Nobody knows who he is. But …”
Hecht pressed. “Why does that make you so nervous right now?”
“I did track him down, Pipe. I’m good enough to track a ghost to his lair. Given time.”
“And?”
“This is where he lives, Pipe.”
Hecht started. He began looking into corners himself. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. And you’re looking for ghosts now, too.”
“I am.” Because he believed Hugo Mongoz. The man in brown was Cloven Februaren. The Ninth Unknown. Principatè Delari’s predecessor, who should have been dead a long time ago. And who might be, but who continued to walk the earth, even in daylight.
He suffered an instant of panic. Felt the walls closing in. Felt the stress of his position, which he did not ordinarily. Much. Mostly he was who he was believed to be, doing the best he could. Piper Hecht was everything Sublime V could demand in a Captain-General, except mindlessly passionate about his principal’s ambitions.
“You know Titus Consent?”
“The Deve who converted? I know who he is. The spy guy. He lives over where your woman does.”
“How do you know that?”
“I seen him when I was tracking the brown ghost. Who’s always watching you when I catch up with him.”
Hecht put more effort into studying empty corners. There might be a wholly unexpected reason for the tingle in his wrist. “See Consent. Go to his house. I’ll give you a note. Tell him to write your story down.
Every detail. But not to share it with anyone but me.”
“All right.” Biogna sounded puzzled.
“You need to get out of here. We’ll talk somewhere else.” Hecht had hoped to ask Biogna about his visit to Viscesment, though that was old news.
Biogna said, “You don’t need to convince me.” He had not stopped prowling.
Hecht scribbled a note, then saw Biogna to the street. “I appreciate what you did, Bo. I’ll see you’re repaid.”
“Find me a job. The City Regiment won’t last out the summer.”
“Goes without saying. See how you get along with Titus Consent. There’s a good chance he can use you.”
“What’s the matter?” Anna asked, deep in the night.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Really? Just because somebody tried to kill you today?” It was not that. To his surprise. That he had put out of mind. Instead, he was obsessing about the man in brown.
“Not really. I put that aside once the threat went away. You live to. Or you can’t function.”
“Must you? Function? We could …” She fell silent. K nowing that asking was a waste of time. Instead, she distracted him as only a woman could.
He had no trouble falling asleep afterward.
Hecht left the town house early. Six armed horsemen awaited him. With an extra animal. All six were men he knew. Men who could be trusted.
He did not argue. The choice was no longer his. He was too valuable an asset.
He might never be alone again. His whole life might have to be structured to fit the convenience of bodyguards.
He spent six hours at the Castella dollas Pontellas. The development of the militias of the Patriarchal Estates was going well, except in the area of armaments acquisition. There had been no official word from Krois, yet, but his staff were all confident that orders would not be delayed much longer. Action would be taken to tame the Connec.
Sublime felt free to move. He no longer dreaded what the Empire would do if he turned his back.
Empress Katrin had chosen to support the Brothen Patriarchy. In defiance of tradition, the Electors, and the Imperial nobility.
Hecht said, “Gentlemen, I congratulate myself on my ability to pick good men.” The jest came out sounding pompous. “I mean, I’m just plain thrilled by the job you’re all doing. And doing so fast.”
Colonel Smolens asked, “This your way of sneaking up on you going to leave us to our own devices again?” He wore a big smile. Hecht had grown to like the man.
“That, too. For a while. I have to see Principatè Delari. But I wanted you all to know that I see the long hours paying off. We just might be able to do some of the things we’re likely to be asked to do. So.
Carry on.”
Titus Consent caught Hecht as he was about to leave. He carried a courier pouch. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Noë is ready to put a curse on you. Despite your misfortune.”
The man did look drained.
“I a
ppreciate it. Tell Noë. Anna will treat you to a fat dinner once she gets her house back.”
“I couldn’t pick up the gist of what your man was talking about when I was recording what he had to say.”
Hecht shrugged. ‘That was part of the point.” Clej Sedlakova approached. With parts missing he moved more like a collection of limbs than one man. “I don’t know what it means, Lieutenant But I’m sure it’s important. Mr. Sedlakova?”
“A personal word, sir. On behalf of the Brotherhood. We intend to use all our power and influence to root out the people who attacked you.”
“Really?” What a startling notion. “Why?”
“Sir? I don’t …”
“Excuse me. I just mean, I guess, that I’d rather they didn’t.” Although he had been forced to admit a Brotherhood observer to his staff Hecht had given the man a real job and used him. The idea being to make Sedlakova critical to the success of the object of his espionage.
Clej Sedlakova handled most personnel matters and developed uniform standards for training and equipment for city militias. He had a reputation as a siege engineer, too. He was intent on participating in planned field exercises despite his physical shortcomings.
Sedlakova appeared displeased by Hecht’s response.
“It’s generous. And I do appreciate the thinking. Seriously. But I’m suddenly buried in people who want to protect me. And ever since I recovered consciousness yesterday people have been telling me they’re going to hunt down whoever did it. So add on the Brotherhood … Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You do have other resources, don’t you?”
“Sir?” Puzzled.
“A name came up when Colonel Ghort and I chased down the men who ambushed us. Rudenes Schneidel.”
“I’ve heard it.” And it had meaning, apparently. “A sorcerer.”
“Schneidel was supposedly associated with Immaculate. Ghort sent people to Viscesment. They couldn’t make that connection. And couldn’t find Schneidel. He’d gone to Artecipea.”
“Another one from the mystery nest. Like Starkden.”
“Exactly. And Starkden was big on the Brotherhood’s list before I ever heard of her.”
“The Special Office’s list. The Witchfinders.”
“Maybe Schneidel is on their list, too. Maybe they could tell me something useful about him.”