Working God's Mischief (Instrumentalities of the Night)

by Cook, Glen

  The Mountain answered with a smile. “Be confident. Be sure God has surprises in store.” But he had reservations himself.

  What did Captain Tage owe the Sha-lug? Did he even recall that he was a warrior of the God Who Is God? The man had become so much more than what he had been sent out to be.

  Young Az said, “Faithful who had been to the coast told us the forerunners of the overland invasion have reached the Antal Land Bridges.”

  Nassim had no trouble understanding the boy’s despair. Indala had done what he could by unifying the kaifates—too late to do any good. The unification process was incomplete and might never be completed, so stubborn were Dreanger and the Sha-lug.

  “Trust in God,” Nassim said, afraid he did not sound confident himself.

  In a voice that carried no farther than the Mountain, Azer said, “I do. But will He trust in me?”

  “I won’t speak to that. I don’t want to make anyone unhappy.”

  The boy got the message. Too many Believers lacked any sense of humor whatsoever.

  The Mountain was not sure a man ought to worship a God who would not laugh.

  Never had Nassim seen or heard anything to suggest that his God had the least idea what laughter might be.

  Young Az said, “Now you know my travails. Tell me yours.”

  “Mine? Ah! Of course. If I had been successful I wouldn’t be here.”

  The boy listened while he explained, then said, “You need to besiege him.”

  “Yes?”

  “There is only one of him. He has no helpers. And he hasn’t gained control of the ghosts and demons he came to recruit. Right?”

  “That’s true.”

  “Then draw a cordon around Andesqueluz, as close as you can, and tighten it whenever you can. Badger him with nuisance attacks. Ambush him when he comes out to steal food. The terrain will force him to follow certain paths, right? Cover those with your firepowder weapons. Rig booby traps that make him waste power. Drain his blood one cut at a time.”

  “I’ll think about that.” Azim had described Nassim’s current strategy exactly, except for committing the falcons.

  “Excellent. So, before we settle down to dine on peacock tongues while virgins tempt us with lascivious dances, what can I do for you when I get to Shamramdi? Is there anything I can have my uncle send you?”

  “No. He has been generous beyond my expectations and hopes.”

  “There’s nothing you want?”

  “Of course there is. Firepowder. I’ll always want firepowder. But I can’t demand something that can’t be had.”

  “I see. And I am sorry, Uncle. You’re right. There is none to be had anymore. The best manufacturers are outside the Realm of Peace. They no longer sell to Believers.”

  True. Nassim’s former suppliers refused to receive his emissaries. They did not want their names remembered to the new crusaders.

  Alizarin left his slice of shade. He looked up into the mountains, toward the Mountain, Asher. Was there some divine purpose to his having come to be known as the Mountain? Had Asher been scribbled on his forehead as he left the womb?

  30. The Connec: Antieux: The Widow Returned

  Bernardin Amberchelle strained to control his excitement when Kedle Richeut and the Vindicated returned. This was Antieux’s greatest day. The Massacre had been requited. The man responsible was in chains, headed for the cathedral where so many innocents had burned to death.

  People howled and threw filth. Neither Bronte Doneto nor Anne of Menand noticed but they were used least ill by those they had persecuted most vigorously, the Seekers After Light. Their most vicious assailants were Brothen Episcopals intent on demonstrating a civic loyalty overshadowing any allegiance to a fallen Patriarch. And their families had suffered in the Massacre, too.

  The Vindicated began to evaporate. No discipline could hold them together now. Fewer than two score remained by the time the Widow reached the citadel.

  Bernardin met her at the gate. He could not stifle his grin. Still, he did note that Kedle was neither comfortable nor happy herself. Having seen the key prisoners installed in cages where the populace could torment them, he took the Widow inside. He had her ranking bachelor followers given quarters, too, but separated her from everyone but a nervous pair of boys she would not put aside.

  “As you will. Come.” He led her to the kitchen, to the little room where he, Socia, and the Perfect had spent so many productive hours. She would want a decent meal. Then she would want a long soak in a hot tub, where she could fall asleep if she liked. She would want to spend a week burrowed into a feather bed.

  She would want to see her children, too, but that could not be managed. Raulet and Chardén had gone to Khaurene with their grandparents.

  * * *

  Kedle tried to eat like a wolf but her shrunken stomach would not accommodate her. Bernardin tried several conversational sallies. She did not respond. He told her, “You’re no longer a free agent, woman. You’re back in the real world. It has no room for routiers. Here you are a subject of the Countess of Antieux. Here you answer questions when they’re asked.”

  Kedle was ready to explode instantly.

  Her independent assault on Arnhand, prolonged and unexpectedly successful, had convinced her that she was the law, with no need to answer to anyone.

  The flesh of Bernardin’s arms began to wriggle and knot. The fish things surfaced. Their flat eyes fixed on the Widow. And Kedle understood she had come into a narrow place.

  She knew who had gifted Bernardin with those deadly fetches. She understood that their coming to life meant that Hope was not pleased. She could expect a visit from the Instrumentality, to remind her that she was a lesser mover in the Night’s great schemes.

  She was not ready to reject the love of the Night.

  * * *

  The Widow spent three days in Antieux, recuperating. She should have stayed longer. Her bones still ached. She, the Vindicated, and their animals had been stressed for a long time. The fighters needed to rediscover their human side. But the Widow remained driven. She could not stay still.

  The column that left for Khaurene was a third of what had come home from Arnhand. Kedle fumed but those standing down had the right.

  Some rest came at Castreresone, where the entire population wanted to see the captives. The Castreresonese were less cruel than the folk of Antieux but their attitudes were hostile, especially toward Anne of Menand.

  That woman no longer maintained her proud defiance. The abuse, the overwhelming hatred, had broken her. Serenity endured his captivity more successfully. He gave himself up completely to his hatred. He shouted threats. He spewed excommunications. Those who heard mocked him. He would die as cruelly as any Seeker whom he had sent ahead of him.

  The Widow passed six days camped below the White City. Then, able to endure the pain again, she moved on. Near Homodel, where a battle had taken place during the Captain-General’s incursion into the Connec, the Vindicated encountered a mob determined to rescue Serenity. They outnumbered the Vindicated substantially but the Widow knew that they were waiting.

  She could have avoided the fight. She chose extermination instead.

  Serenity’s friends did reach the cages. They did release him and his sponsor but Kedle kept them contained. The fire of four falcons eventually convinced the rest to surrender. Afterward, Anne and Serenity were forced to watch their executions.

  Kedle rested a day, upwind of the carnage, then resumed travel.

  Serenity abandoned threats in favor of prayer.

  Kedle’s bones continued to ache but she would not stop moving.

  Lady Hope came in the night, with the Vindicated camped a day from Khaurene. She soothed the Widow’s pains. “Darling Kedle, once thee reacheth this city thee must surrender to thy flesh. Thee must allow thyself to heal.”

  As ever, Kedle felt argumentative. But she could find no point from which to start.

  Hope said, “There is naught more thee needs must d
o. The Connec is safe. Its enemies have been brought low. Kedle Richeut can go back to being the mother of her children.”

  Kedle nodded reluctantly. She had known that since Mestlé. The Widow and Kingslayer were needed no more. There were no more enemies. Anselin would make no claims on the Connec. He had his own kingdom to tame and, in the longer term, his ambition was to lead another army into the Holy Lands. He remained nostalgic for those bitter reaches.

  “I’ll be the Kedle Richeut that I have to be. I’m not sure God made me to be a mother, though.”

  “Yet thee hath children.”

  “I confess to being extremely fond of the act which occasionally results in children.”

  “Though thee hated thy husband?”

  “He had one saving grace.”

  They stared at one another briefly. The Instrumentality said, “Permit thyself to heal, Kedle Richeut. If necessary, I will put thee into a coma for the time it takes.”

  “Thou art too cruel.” Teasing.

  “I am. I love thee too well to let thee harm thyself.”

  “I surrender.” She paused a moment. “Tonight is the last night I’ll have before I have to go back to being plain old Kedle Richeut.”

  Hope considered briefly. “I dare not, love. I have to be seen elsewhere tonight. I’m late already.” She kissed the Widow on the forehead, then vanished. Normal night noises returned. Kedle had not noted their absence.

  She did not fall asleep quickly. She brooded. Why could she not be excited? Her children and parents awaited, just miles away, but only the chance to see Socia again really moved her.

  31. Brothe: Domestica

  The six materialized in Anna Mozilla’s drawing room. Red-faced, Titus broke away from the pack. Hecht was too distracted to notice. He felt as though he had visited several new realities while cutting the chord. He did not know why. All memory of the transition fled the moment he returned to the middle world.

  Neither Heris nor Cloven Februaren were distracted, though. Heris snapped, “Girls!”

  Vali asked, “What?” Lila just frowned.

  The old man snapped, “You know better!”

  Titus gasped, “It wasn’t them. It was me. I was thinking about Noë.” Consent’s erection was blatantly obvious, though he tried to conceal it. He had been pressed against Lila during the transition.

  Hecht growled, “Enough. Forget it. Anna! Where is Anna? Shouldn’t she be here?”

  Lila said, “She’s probably at Noë’s house. She helps Noë wrangle the boys. Noë can’t always control them.”

  Titus had his composure back. “I’d better go.” He gave Lila an uncertain look, like he ought to apologize for something, decided it was best to let it go.

  Hecht said, “Yes. If she’s there, tell her I’m here. If she cares.”

  Titus left like he was fleeing from rather than running to.

  Hecht eyed Vali and Lila. Both were having trouble keeping straight faces. “Double Great, I’m thinking you and Grandfather have failed to apply the switch to these two often enough. Girls, don’t do that to Titus.”

  “We didn’t do anything!” Lila protested.

  “I know. But you didn’t let it go once it happened. Let’s forget it, now. All of us.” Because Heris was puffing up, getting ready to preach about taunting the weaker sex.

  “All right,” Heris said. “Double Great, it’s time you and me got back to work.”

  Blink. Blink.

  Hecht was alone with his daughters. He had no idea what to say.

  Lila said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t … Titus was … I don’t know!” She blushed ferociously.

  “I said leave it. It happens.”

  * * *

  Anna arrived so fast she must have run. “What the hell are you doing here, Piper?”

  He looked at the girls. “You didn’t tell her?”

  Vali said, “We thought it would be a neat surprise.”

  “I was about to start off for the Holy Lands. I wanted to see you before I left. Misfortune might be waiting out there. I could fall off my horse and drown crossing a river. A fever could get me. You’re important to me. I couldn’t let fate have its way before I saw you again. I can go away if that’s what you want.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. You girls will be sorry you didn’t warn me. Piper, you know…”

  “I know. I can’t help it. I spend all my time being the Grand Duke of Arnmigal and Commander of the Righteous. It’s hard to be Piper Hecht when I’m not on stage.”

  “How about that, girls? I’m the mistress of a duke.”

  Hecht felt a twinge of guilt. He was the leman of an empress.

  The dalliance with Helspeth gnawed at him, though Anna never expected him to be faithful. Nor did he expect that of her, really, though his expectation was founded on a certainty that Anna Mozilla would not let herself be driven by her appetites.

  Why did he feel guilty? He was doing nothing not done by a million other men, every single day.

  Anna said, “I’ll deal with these girls later. You’re here now. We’ll do what we always do and enjoy the time we have.” She chuckled. “No doubt Titus has Noë pregnant again by now.”

  Cheeks slightly red, Vali asked, “Should we pop over to Grandfather’s townhouse, or go visit the Construct, or something? So you can have some privacy?”

  “No need,” Anna said. “We’re much too old for that sort of foolishness, aren’t we, Piper?”

  “Speak for yourself, old woman.” He noted that Anna had aged some since last he saw her. She looked a touch more fleshy, too.

  She asked, “Where is Pella? You didn’t bring him?”

  “He’s with Hagen Brokke in Arnhand, lifeguarding the new king. I’ve had good reports. He arranged a peace agreement with that Connecten madwoman they call the Widow.” He let his pride show but not his concern. Brokke should have returned to Alten Weinberg by now. He and Buhle Smolens would have to represent the Righteous while the Enterprise was operational. Brokke and Smolens would stand shoulder to shoulder with Ferris Renfrow and Algres Drear to shield Helspeth from her fractious stay-behind nobility.

  Not something he needed to worry about, now. This was a holiday from being Lord Arnmigal. He told the girls, “Do go see Muniero. He’s probably browned off because you’re missing your studies, anyway. And let the old fraud know I’m home.”

  Both girls made faces, then turned sideways.

  Anna said, “You really do presume.”

  “Not at all. Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll show you how they prepare roast chicken in Alten Weinberg.”

  “I don’t have a chicken to roast.”

  “Damn! And the kids aren’t home. Whatever will we do?”

  * * *

  “How many people knew I was here?” Hecht demanded of Titus Consent. “How is it possible that, the morning after we arrive, I have a request from Addam Hauf for an interview?”

  Titus was pale, frightened by Hecht’s rage. “I don’t know! But lots of people would know as soon as we turned up. Noë and the boys. Anna. Your girls. Muniero Delari and the people at his house. And anyone watching any of our houses.”

  “Enough. You’re right. It doesn’t have to be malice.” He suppressed his anger. “Definitely not your fault. The Brotherhood didn’t send the invitation to you.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Ignore it. I don’t have time. Even though I do owe Hauf for looking after Anna during the troubles.”

  “You might put your ear to the ground for a few minutes.”

  “What’s happened?” Instantly sure that something bad must have.

  “Not what you’re thinking. Mostly foolishness. Like Pinkus Ghort talking Charity into sending an all-Brothen battalion to the Holy Lands.”

  “He did that? And, Charity?”

  “Your friend Saluda finally picked a reign name. The news from Arnhand tipped him.”

  “That silly ass Pinkus. He didn’t want to be left out so he worked his way around me.” />
  “I expect he’ll be waiting when we get there. Him and a clutter of others who took the sea route because you wouldn’t let them come with you.”

  “He’s gone already?”

  “Four days ago. With three hundred forty veteran infantrymen, fifty-four horses, plus carts, wagons, and five falcons.” Titus named Ghort’s leading lieutenants. They were men Hecht knew.

  “How can you know all this? I’d bet you haven’t been out of bed twenty minutes since we got here.”

  “Your opinion of my prowess is welcome but too generous. You’re right. I haven’t been out of the house. But I was your spymaster for a while. Mrs. Spymaster doesn’t get noticed when she’s out. She hears a lot.”

  “I understand.” He could not picture timid Noë deliberately eavesdropping. Nor was he comfortable with Noë knowing so much about her husband’s business.

  “Change of subject, Titus. Am I arrogant? Am I a controlling know-it-all?”

  “You want an honest answer, Boss? Or the one you’re going to like?”

  “I think that says it all, right there.”

  “Not entirely. You’re on your way but you aren’t there yet. You still listen. You take advice occasionally. But are you controlling? Absolutely. In a huge way, and getting worse every day.”

  Hecht stifled his emotional response. “Go on.”

  “When we started out you picked people you thought could do jobs, gave them those jobs, then got out of the way and let them do their jobs. You don’t do that anymore. You’re always leaning over somebody’s shoulder.”

  There was a reason for …

  Exactly the reason he had heard from every out-of-touch senior officer who ever annoyed him by butting in to micromanage.

  “Boss?”

  “Give me a minute, Titus. I just suffered a bleak epiphany.” He reflected for another fifteen seconds. “I’ve turned into what I loathed when I was a junior officer.”

  “The old veterans say you’re not that bad. Yet. If that’s any consolation.”

  “It’s not, but it’s noted. Could it just naturally evolve as we advance and get older? A squad is a team. The squad leader is first among equals, the experienced guy who makes good decisions fast. The next level is like that but four or five times bigger. Once you scale it up a couple more steps, though, you’re where you don’t know everybody. The mutual trusts begin to break down.”