Glen Cook - Surrender to the will of the night

The latter were of little value. They had no interest in submitting to military discipline or in carrying out military missions.

Ever more men had to be tasked to protect the lengthening line of communication from the gates to the point of attack.

Word came that Serenity had ordered Pinkus Ghort to stop dancing with the Grand Duke and get to Brothe, never mind losses.

Come the afternoon Collegium opponents of Serenity began to appear. They sprang from homes in the Empire or Imperial possessions in Firaldia. Serenity’s adherents had the upper hand in the Chiaro Palace.

Hecht’s heart sank. That was not good. That could portend disaster. If Serenity got to the Construct… Pray Heris was right when she said the Patriarch was unaware of the project. Otherwise, his triumph was assured.

Hecht felt the thing in the catacombs ever more intensely. He was getting closer. It was getting stronger. It sensed him, too. He had an ever more powerful impression that it was bigger than anybody thought. And that it was still growing, by the hour and the minute.

And it must be. If the old men were right about it feeding on fear and hatred. Or if the large grew bigger by eating the small. The Patriarch had flooded the city with minor Instrumentalities.

As evening approached more locals came out to work against Serenity. Or, more often, against the Benedocto. Everyone associated with the major families had suffered recently.

Titus insisted the volunteers were more trouble than they were worth. Hecht had him scatter them, making them do something useful like carry things for the fighters.

The advance passed the Bruglioni and Cologni family citadels. The Bruglioni was a ruin haunted by crows, insects, and the smell of death. The Cologni had survived, though that family’s less well defended properties elsewhere had suffered.

There was plenty of evidence of fighting but none suggesting any use of sorcery.

As the sun dropped toward the skyline Hecht began calculating how best to deal with the thing down below. It would come tonight. It would get no better opportunity.

It was a thing of the darkest side of the Night, lethally dangerous but not invulnerable. Godshot would tame it. How to fix and target it was the question.

Hecht redirected the advance to pass Principat? Delari’s town house. He hoped to find the old man holding out there and willing to give advice. He found only ruin, absent the smell of death. There was no sign of the Principat? or his staff. Refugees from the Chiaro Palace, though, insisted that Delari was alive, making himself obnoxious, and had some special surprise cooked up for the Patriarch.

Where was Lila? Lila would know how to get hold of the old man.

Hecht had begun to worry about that girl. He should have heard from her by now.

The Imperial advance reached the hippodrome, now restored and enjoying a full racing season. Or had been till the death of Jaime of Castauriga changed the world.

There were scores of horses stabled under the stadium. Scores of people who tended the animals or managed the venue also lived in nooks and crannies out of the public eye. Smells of cooking and stables both emanated from the hippodrome.

Hagan Brokke turned up as Hecht contemplated the stadium. “Boss, it’s late. And we’re too worn down to keep it going after dark. We ought to settle down right here. We can control access…”

“You’re right. I was just looking at it. Pass the word. Make it happen. And send runners to tell our people to either come here or move back to the gates. I don’t want anybody on the streets tonight. It might get ugly out there.”

“Night things?” The staff all believed he had some special connection now that he had died and been resurrected.

“Big Night things. Every second falcon should be charged with godshot.” His amulet had grown more irritating as the sun sank. It had the same feel as the night that Heris had brought him in to visit.

At first it seemed an evening when the whole city meant to come out and go crazy. There were sounds of rioting, screams in the distance, fires both near at hand and far away. The exterior wall of the hippodrome was high enough to offer a good view in several directions, including toward the Castella, Krois, and the Chiaro Palace. Toward what had been the heart of Brothe for fifteen hundred years. Lights moved around Krois and the Chiaro Palace. The Castella was dark.

Hecht asked his officers to join him up where he could observe the city’s torment while they talked. They came, none with any enthusiasm. And several were unreasonably late. Titus Consent claimed he had been taking intelligence reports from local people. Clej Sedlakova said he was welcoming a company of infantrymen from Alamedinne who had just fought through to the hippodrome. Their addition made it nearly half the southerners recovered.

Hecht gave up on Hagan Brokke. But, then, he did turn up. Not alone.

The Empress tagged along behind.

“What the hell is wrong with that woman?” But he was too tired to get good and angry. He just kept things moving by asking if anyone knew anything about this new version of the hippodrome. He would go through the motions to the end, though Katrin’s presence virtually guaranteed death or captivity. How could Serenity resist the invitation to end his war with one quick stroke?

Titus Consent asked what he wanted to know about the hippodrome.

“It fell down because the catacombs caved in. Was anything done to stop that from happening again?” The catacombs offered the monster there a sheltered path of attack, otherwise.

There were several opinions. No one knew for sure. Hecht studied the Empress and Captain Ephrian. Ephrian had gotten himself wounded. He was pale, exhausted, on the verge of collapse. Katrin looked like she had been smoking kuf. Smelled like it, too.

Ephrian noted his sniffing. “It actually helps,” he said. Then fell asleep.

Hecht envied him.

He began to talk about the likelihood of a serious encounter with the Night, tonight. Tonight could make or break the whole campaign. He made no comment on the presence of royalty. If the Righteous got through tonight they ought to be able to fight through to the Teragi tomorrow, there to isolate Krois and the Chiaro Palace. Then they could relax and wait on the Grand Duke.

Hecht tried to make it sound like he thought this war was as good as won. If they could just make it through tonight.

The night went quiet.

Hecht’s amulet itched brutally.

Katrin offered a vague smile to no one in particular.

Something exploded on the other side of the stadium.

A firepowder cart? No. That was huge but down in the ground. Underneath.

There was no big flash or smoke, just a muted bang, and shaking.

Everyone started trading dimwit questions.

The other side of the stadium groaned. Then it rumbled. Then it settled majestically, dustily, into the earth.

“Did they do anything to the catacombs so that wouldn’t happen again?” Titus asked. “I’m thinking, probably not.”

Hecht said, “We had people and weapons posted over there.” Noting that this was not the section that had fallen before. “One more time and we’ll have a whole new hippodrome. Get down there and see what needs doing.”

Something more than an explosion and collapse had happened. Hecht’s staff already believed it had been an attack.

The irritation offered by Hecht’s amulet had a whole new feel.

“Wait.”

Hecht thought Katrin had spoken. “Your Grace?” But the Empress had drifted into a thousand-yard stare. And Captain Ephrian was sound asleep.

“Father. Here.”

“Lila?”

“Here.” Inside a shadow hardly big enough to hide a pin.

“You’ve had me worried half to death, girl. You just plain disappeared last night.”