Lord of the Silent Kingdom iotn-2

by Glen Cook

  "Hey, Matt! Granny!" Ghort yelled. "The kid says somebody's staking the place out. There's four of them. Another one ran off like he was going after reinforcements."

  "That's not good," Bit said. "Not if they think you're the ones who came in on the smuggler. They'll want to know why you didn't go straight to the Don's palace. I know what. The girls don't have anything to do. We'll make up families for you. Beomond, get your damned birthday present put away. Tiny! Look around. Make sure there ain't nothing laying out that we don't want to answer questions about."

  In ten minutes Hecht and Ghort left the House of the Ten Galleons accompanied by their wives, Ghort's son, and Hecht's brace of prepubescent daughters. He had a real daughter in al-Qarn older than these apprentice prostitutes. The purported wives managed to look surprisingly respectable.

  Bit had had practice showing witnesses what they wanted to see.

  The thugs in the street evidently did not find it remarkable that men would take their families along on a visit to a brothel. There were no challenges. Hecht wondered how they meant to catch spies with no more information than they had.

  Once clear, Ghort said, "I get the chance, I'm having me a chat with my sailor friends. They sold us out."

  "Not completely. Those men didn't have good descriptions of us."

  "Yeah. So my guys gave up what they had to in order to keep from getting their own nuts in a clamp. But they didn't volunteer anything useful. Good on them. What say we get out of town, now? Suddenlike."

  "That's always been my plan. We made this side trip because I didn't have guts enough to tell the Special Office no."

  "You never get to where you can say no anytime you want, do you?"

  "You're turning into a philosopher in your dotage."

  "What do we do with the wives and kids?"

  The families were quieter than good, obedient Praman families. The women wore the black expected of rural wives even here in this land of idolaters. The daughters were clad poorly and plainly. Both had been among those who had tried to spy on Bit and her visitors.

  "I'm sure they have instructions already. Right, ladies?"

  Exactly. Except that Hecht and Ghort soon found themselves equipped with children who refused to go away. Pella Versulius thought he had a good thing going. He insisted they still needed his help. The girl, one of the supposed daughters… She grabbed hold of Ghort and refused to be returned to the joy house. She was, probably, clever enough to see that these men would not be long on respect for the claims of a whoremaster.

  Madness, Hecht thought, watching the two women try to pry the girl off Pinkus Ghort. What did she face back there that was more terrible than running off with men she knew nothing about?

  The older prostitutes cursed and shouted, their fear mounting. Big trouble awaited them if they did not bring this child back to the brothel. They did not give a damn what became of the other girl.

  That child sidled up to Hecht. She whispered, "Her name is Vali Dumaine, Mr. Soldier of God. Her father is important. They stole her to punish him. And to blackmail him. They're going to auction off her virginity. If her father don't do what they want. There'll be a really big reward if you take her home."

  "She talks?" The stubborn child had been stone silent, the women treating her like a deaf-mute.

  The girl nodded. "Nobody knows. The whores don't know who she is, either. They'd probably steal her for the reward if they did."

  "What would we do with her?" Loud and physical as the prostitutes became, they could not separate the girl from Pinkus Ghort. Ghort did not help them. Neither did he send them off. He was waiting for more evidence to develop.

  "Take her home, Mr. Soldier of God. Ransom her."

  "You're trying to help her?"

  "Yes."

  "What about you?"

  "It's too late for me, Mr. Soldier of God."

  Hecht chose not to pursue that. "Won't you get in trouble?"

  "Not me. Bit is my granny. She won't believe I fixed it up. I cain't do no wrong. Them bitches are gonna pay for every time they slapped or pinched me when Bit wasn't looking. Now."

  So. Helping the other girl's escape attempt was not a selfless act.

  Vali Dumaine kept her death grip on Ghort's belt.

  "Ladies!" Hecht snapped. "If this doesn't stop we all end up in chains." The uproar had begun to attract attention.

  The women shut up. They stared at each other, murmured, tried one more time to pull the girl off Ghort, then grabbed Bit's granddaughter and fled. Cursing all the way.

  Pella said, "Your Honors, we need to get out of here. This kind of racket always brings investigators."

  "Just another reason for us to get out of town now." He felt hidden eyes watching.

  Pella said, "You can't leave before the gates open. The guards don't bribe."

  "Lead on, Pella." Hecht related the story the girl had whispered during the squabble. As they followed Pella.

  "Hey, Pipe, we can't go dragging a kid around."

  "I'm open to suggestions. Including what to do about the fact that we've attracted the attention of the Night." His amulet had begun to offer a faint warning.

  "The street's full of kids. Give her to Pella." Ghort glanced round, sensing the stirring of shadows.

  Hecht's wrist tingled. The warning was unnecessary. Somebody was coming. In a hurry. A lot of somebodies, considering the racket.

  Ghort said, "I thought them whores gave up awful easy."

  Hecht grunted. "They'd know their city. They'd know how long they could raise hell before they had to run for it."

  "I don't like this. These guys have torches."

  "The Special Office won't forgive us if we get caught and questioned."

  "No shit. Not to mention me. Pella, little buddy, I'm thinking we ought to get us up on a roof somewhere. Unless you got a better idea."

  "That's what I'd do, Your Honor. But not here. People here are on the lookout on account of the noise them stupid whores made."

  "Pipe, I tell you, this kid reminds me of me. Smart as a whip."

  "Make up your mind. Which is it? Like you? Or smart?"

  "Huh?"

  "I'll bet he can remember names. Even when he's excited."

  "Oh. Good point. Sorry. Get on, boy. Find us a place."

  "This ain't my part of town. But come on."

  Hecht kept an eye on the shadows.

  The children were more convincing than false passes. Though they did leave early, while the guards were still yawning and barely able to stumble through their routine questions. Hecht lied liberally. The guards failed to recognize them as dangerous foreign agents making a desperate getaway.

  Hecht and Ghort muttered about what were they going to do with two kids who would not go away. Pella, not even for money. And Vali… Well, Vali Dumaine steadfastly refused to talk. How could they ransom her without finding out anything, were they so inclined?

  She ain't stupid… Matt. Keeping hope alive. In our black hearts. So we'll take good care of her."

  "She must remind you of you, too, then."

  "Yeah. You know, I'm thinking we should've broke down and brought Bo and some of his crew. I'm thinking that bunch back there might not have been the most dedicated bunch of Brotherhood types we ever run into."

  "You think? When they use a brothel for a chapter house? And an old woman for a castellan?"

  "I'm thinking we shoulda read them letters. Might be handy to know what they're up to."

  "Had we done, they wouldn't have believed we were Brothers, too. Which means this morning would've found us less happy than we are now. Maybe even swimming in the Sawn."

  "Another good point. You bring much specie?"

  "You're zigging when I'm zagging. For the thousandth time since I've known you."

  "We got families, now. I'm thinking we'll have a hard time getting there on time. With the girl. I don't figure she's done a lot of walking before. So we might want to hire a cart and driver."

  Hecht eyed
the girl. And thought he could read the story of her kidnapping. "She'll handle it. They made her walk to Sonsa. And they weren't kind about it, either. Right, Vali?"

  That did not crack any barriers. Hecht had hoped for a nod or a headshake.

  Ghort asked, "How long you figure it'll be till they send somebody out here to look for us?"

  "Bit and Beomond?"

  "Whoever. Somebody had a whole lot invested in this kid."

  Hecht wished he did know what was in those letters, now. "The other girl said they were trying to blackmail her father into doing something."

  "Two things going on in the same place?" Ghort wondered. "Maybe. But most people are like me. Narrow focused as me. I have trouble walking and talking at the same time."

  Not that Hecht had noticed. Ghort could talk in his sleep.

  "We'd better not use the passes anymore. I wish we could put different clothes on the kids."

  "There's some woods up there. We get off the road. You and me, we dig out a clean outfit. We put the girl in the boy's clothes. Bingo! We got two boys."

  "One of them naked."

  "No. Put him in my dirty shirt. Be huge on him but street kids live like that all the time."

  Pella observed, "She's too clean, Your Honors. She looks like a rich kid in disguise."

  Hecht told him, "Help her look less prosperous, then. Once we get off the road."

  They were just inside the tree line when six horsemen raced in from the west. "Shit, Pipe, Fortune's grinning at us today. We'd been on the road, we'd never have got off in time."

  "They're killing their horses. And that's why." He eyed Vali Dumaine. "Who's this bony chit's daddy? Who does the Brotherhood hate that much?"

  "You really asking? Or is that one of your rhetorical type questions? Them riders wasn't Brotherhood guys, anyway."

  "I'm pleased to listen if you have answers. And I know they weren't Brotherhood. They couldn't have that many hidden around town. But they might have men working for them who don't know who they really work for."

  Ghort shrugged. "I got nothing, then. The girl is fair. She maybe better pass as your kid. I'll take the other one. We need to get out of here. Those guys will start working their way back after a while."

  "We'll stick to the woods till we see them go back."

  "You been away from the wilds a while, Pipe. You able to handle the woods? To cover a trail?"

  "I think so. If they do catch us here it'll be where their bodies won't be found for a while."

  "I like your confidence. What if we get stopped?"

  "I'll leave that to you. You're a natural. Me, I have the same problem as my daughter. Runs in the family."

  "Thought she was gonna be your son, Your Honor."

  "My son. Yes, Pella."

  "Oh, hell, yeah. They're gonna take one look at you and vant me to tell how you got some woman to get that close if you didn't fog her mind with bullshit."

  "Do Your Honors go on like this all the time?"

  "He does," Hecht got in first. "I'm the responsible one."

  "O Responsible One. How're we gonna make any bodies to leave in the woods?" Pretending to be poor travelers, they carried no weapons heavier than knives. "We can't be looking for mercenary work if we're on this road. Headed away from Sonsa? Not if Sonsans ask."

  "They'll give up when they don't find any sign of us." Hecht felt slightly rattled. Why was he even out here? His choices recently seemed slightly unreal.

  "Child of Fortune."

  "What?"

  "That's what they call orphans where I come from, Pipe. In general. And me, specifically. That was my only name for a long time."

  Hecht grunted. Really? Not that long ago Ghort had blamed in assassination attempt on men recommended to the City Regiment by relatives. And, farther back, he had told a story about his father being murdered in Clearenza.

  In the language of Hecht's youth, Child of Fortune meant someone touched by the gods. One who had become a tool of the Instrumentalities of the Night. One who became a prophet. Or a raging lunatic.

  Which might explain aspects of his life he could not understand in any other context.

  Frightening.

  You were in trouble if you started thinking you had been singled out by the Night.

  "We're ready to go, Your Honors."

  "Oh. Good." Hecht had paid little attention to the children changing.

  "Hey!" Pella said. "Where's your tattoo?"

  "What? I likes my wine, boy, but I ain't never been drunk enough to let no failed torturer's apprentice use me for no art board."

  Pella studied Hecht. "You don't got one neither, do you? You guys lied. You ain't Brotherhood of War, are you?"

  Ghort said, "We never said we was."

  Hecht asked, "Members of the Brotherhood have an identifying tattoo?"

  "That's what I heard."

  "Did you? It's news to me. Buck?"

  "I never heard that before. Don't mean it ain't true."

  What were the chances a Child of Fortune off Sonsa's streets would know something the Brotherhood had hidden successfully from men who were around them every day?

  "Everybody knows that!" Pella insisted.

  "How?"

  "When there was all that fighting with the Brotherhood chapter house and the Deves, when I was little. When people stripped the bodies the Brothers all had tattoos. The same one. Back here." He tried to slap his own back behind his heart. "It was only about this big." He indicated his left thumbnail. "It looked like an acorn. With a leaf coming out."

  "From this seed shall a mighty oak rise," Ghort mused. "Aaron of Chaldar. Talking about Domino. Who became a disciple when Aaron was dying. And he was right. Domino preached all along the southern coast of the Mother Sea. There are tribes in the mountains down there that still haven't bought the Praman evil."

  They were worms in the belly of a dog… Hecht said, "You never cease to amaze me, Buck. How would you know something like that?"

  The Founder Domino was not well known to Episcopal Chaldareans. He had not evangelized in the west. The Brotherhood of War, however, considered Domino their patron. Before his conversion Domino had been the Imperial general, Anelos Andul Gallatin, Dominius, Dominius being a title reserved to commanders who had celebrated several significant successes.

  Hecht suspected that, as would be the case with Josephus Alegiant a generation later, Domino had been successful mainly because of his willingness to make converts at spear's point.

  "I was a divinity student. For about two years, one week. They threw me out on account of somebody drank all the teaching brothers' wine and they needed somebody to blame it on."

  "Don't you hate it when people scapegoat?"

  They resumed traveling, but stayed in the woods, which naked along the banks of a creek that, headed the other direction, eventually emptied into the Sawn. Sometime later Hecht sensed the drum of distant horses. "They're coming."

  The riders did return, not racing now, looking into the woods, sometimes darting in to look for a sign. They missed Hecht and his companions. They continued on westward.

  "I feel better, now," Ghort said. "Though they should've been smart enough to have some minor mage with them."

  "They're criminals. But if they did have one, how would we know?"

  "You're just all the time the incarnation of optimism, Pipe."

  "How come he calls you Pipe when your name is Mathis?" Pella wanted to know.

  "Because he's an idiot?"

  "Because he used to smoke a ton of kuf when we was in the Holy Lands."

  Pella sneered. He had established his disbelief in their holy calling already.

  Hecht said, "We have to get back on the road and start making time. We ought to get to Alicea before dark." The town was a long way off. He could remember nowhere to get in out of the night anywhere closer. And the sooner they established themselves at the Knight of Wands the more they would be part of the background when their quarry arrived.

  Ghort
launched a fanciful account of his adventures in the Holy Lands with his good pal Mathis Schlink. Because he wove in commonplace fairy tale, tall tale, and legendary elements, Pella knew he was lying from the start.

  Hecht said, "Think I'll range ahead. You two stick with Buck."

  Ghort nodded. "Be careful." By which Hecht understood that he, too, had noted that one fewer rider had returned than had gone east.

  Pella betrayed his own quick eye. "Let me do it. They ain't looking to ambush me. Whoever they are."

  Ghort told him, "Go to it, kid."

  With Pella out of earshot, Hecht asked, "And what would you do now, Child of Fortune?"

  "Play it straight. He don't see any obvious way to cash in. He knows they'll just rob him if he tries to cut himself a share of whatever Vali is worth." A bit later, Ghort added, "He's making a long-term investment. That's what I did. It worked for me. He'll probably end up brokenhearted."

  Ahead, Pella rounded a verge of the woods and disappeared. Whistling.

  "He has nerve."

  "You need that to survive when you're on your own."

  This sounded more like the real Pinkus Ghort than most of the stories he told. "I'll stroll ahead, now. Vali, stay by Buck."

  Hecht rounded the trees and found Pella in a brisk argument with a tall, bony, skinny man whose natural posture made him lean forward. His hands swooped and flew as he talked. His horse was tied to a bush beside the road, on a long tether, busy grazing and ignoring its rider. Its saddle, loosened, bore a Sonsan household crest.

  Hecht stalked closer. Durandanti. The Durandanti family had an old relationship with the Brotherhood of War. That broke down when the Brotherhood tried to plunder the Devedian quarter of Sonsa, but, evidently, peace had been made, under the table. The Durandanti plan for reviving Sonsa must require becoming intimate with the ambitions of Sublime V and the Brotherhood.

  Where did Vali fit?

  That depended on who she was.

  Pella demonstrated his street bona fides by maneuvering the bony man round to present his back to eastbound traffic. He remained unaware of Hecht until his horse became restless.