Glen Cook - Surrender to the will of the night

Februaren grunted. Not good. Legendary magical artifacts could not be banished that way. They always found a way back.

Februaren said, “I need you, and the other Aelen Kofer, to come to my world for a while.”

The dwarf grunted.

“It will take strength and cleverness to capture the Bastard’s stronghold. Thirty picked Chosen and a Krepnight, the Elect, had no luck.”

“That’s encouraging.”

“They were slaves of a god. Not Aelen Kofer.”

“Transparent, mortal. But still in need of response. Tell me where you want us to go and what you want us to do.”

Cloven Februaren said, “I found the place. I walked around it before I came back here.” He described what he had seen and told Iron Eyes what he thought needed doing. After consideration, the Crown Prince of the Aelen Kofer agreed that Februaren’s strategy was appropriate. For the moment. Given the intelligence available.

Preparations began. Hurriedly.

This would be a long mission. There was no way to reach the target other than by walking. In winter. Across a realm no longer in awe of the Aelen Kofer. Across a world where, for the most part, the Aelen Kofer had been forgotten.

Alten Weinberg was extremely quiet. The Empress and Princess were away, on a progress, though Katrin was supposed to be far advanced in her pregnancy. Most of the Imperial hangers-on were out there with her, creeping from castle to town like a swarm of locusts. Personages of note remaining in the capital city were careful to avoid being seen anywhere near Katrin’s new general. They were sure everyone still in town would be a spy for the Empress, her sister, or Ferris Renfrow. Nobody wanted to get onto a list of suspects.

Hecht was pleased. Mildly. Both at being left alone and at seeing how far the sisters had managed to wriggle out from under the thumbs of the Council Advisory.

The daughters of Johannes Blackboots made everyone around them nervous. If they continued strong, they would rival their father in a few years.

Titus Consent had a stream of spies in to visit and report. Some had been at work since the Captain-General’s wedding visit. Few had learned anything of interest. The absence of the Imperial court had left Alten Weinberg in a state approaching hibernation.

Rivademar Vircondelet said, “There are other spies everywhere, boss. Anybody who isn’t an apprentice or employee is watching everybody else for somebody who can’t be here personally.”

Vircondelet began to ramble.

“Stop!” Hecht said. “I understand. They’re all watching each other. I knew that already. How about something less obvious or more interesting?”

“There’s this. Something is wrong with the Empress’s pregnancy.”

“Explain.”

“She insists she’s pregnant. That she’s carrying Jaime of Castauriga’s son, who will unify the Direcian and Imperial lines into one grand dynasty.”

“But?”

“People are starting to wonder if it isn’t all in her imagination.”

Hecht had his staff spend time on the biological math-with and without Jaime as a factor. He had them mine every rumor, hundreds of those, for anything that might be factual. Katrin faking would be huge. Her relationship with Jaime had become so strained that it was unlikely she would ever see the man again. It could be that the strain was not exclusively due to Jaime’s distaste for his wife’s bony charms. There might have been an incident, vigorously covered up, involving the Princess Apparent. Jaime might have made inappropriate advances that, to his amazement and wrath, were soundly rejected. Continued importunities resulted in Helspeth arranging for Katrin to witness what she would not have believed otherwise.

Ferris Renfrow might have put a warning bug in King Jaime’s ear. Jaime was too arrogant to listen but people around him did enjoy a more intimate relationship with reality.

Hecht said, “So our new Crown Prince should arrive anywhere from next week to ten weeks from now-if Katrin takes about a full year to deliver.”

Sedlakova said, “She’s still doing a progress, boss. Maybe she isn’t as pregnant as she thought. Noblewomen usually go into confinement about the time they start to show.”

Kait Rhuk opined, “If I was King Jaime about now I’d be starting to have my doubts about me being the daddy.”

“Indeed.” Disdain for the behavior of women of estate was owned by lower-class culture everywhere in the Chaldarean world.

Titus suggested, “She may not be following routine because she’s afraid to withdraw. She’s surrounded by jackals.”

Hecht said, “We’re all enjoying this, but in the end it’s something that will take care of itself. I need to know more about the people around the Empress. The ones who think they have some influence, or want to have some influence. The ones convinced that the future of the Empire has to be reflected in their own special mirrors.”

Hecht cringed. This time he would have to play the political game. “Titus. Find Algres Drear.”

“Drear?”

“The Braunsknecht captain.”

“I remember. I was just surprised.”

Katrin’s condition compelled her progress to proceed more slowly than usual. The date of her return kept getting pushed back. Unseasonable weather did not help. Communication through the Jagos ended six days earlier than ever it had before. Hecht’s quartermasters made sure of a fuel supply early, before prices started to rise. Hecht’s status as favored of the Empress made his credit good.

Consent observed, “This might be a bad winter. By the time it’s over maybe nobody will be interested in gallivanting off to the Holy Lands.”

“More likely they’ll all want to go because it’s warmer there.”

Titus shrugged. “Just thinking out loud.”

“A man can’t help that, can he?”

Unsure if he ought to be miffed, Titus went off to do something useful. Hecht muttered under his breath, something about Consent turning into a gossipy old woman. About having to bring No? and the children north next spring. Titus was more tractable with his family close by.

Once he chose his quarters Hecht gave orders that no one should enter without invitation. He wanted to create a space where Heris or Cloven Februaren could appear unnoticed. He did not want to be accused of having secret congress with the Night.

Heris turned up soon after Titus left. Hecht said, “You don’t look so good.”

“Grandfather’s grandfather is testing us all to destruction. And it’s hard to argue with somebody who has two hundred years on you and does more than he wants you to do. That old bastard don’t believe in sleep, Piper.”

“He’s just showing off.”

“I’d say it’s more like he’s trying to prove something to himself.”

“So. What news?”

“Anna is well. Sends her love. The girls are well. Not thrilled about school. Pella has the whooping cough. The rest expect to have their turns. Grandfather has, in my way of thinking, been getting too bold in the Collegium. He’s deliberately provoking Serenity.”

“Of course. There’s a history. And he’s counting on Serenity to be worried sick by the continued existence of Cloven Februaren. The Ninth Unknown had a nasty reputation in his time. Several old-time Patriarchs regretted attracting his ire.”

“Piper, Serenity doesn’t know any of that. He’s almost completely ignorant about the Unknowns. And about anything before his own grandfather’s time. He doesn’t care about old times. And he was never invited in on the Construct project. Hardly anyone knows about it anymore, other than the orders involved and those who do the funding. Meaning just a few members of the Collegium. Grandfather’s cronies, who are all sure that the fall of the old world is right around the corner. The last Patriarch who expressed an interest in the Construct was Pacificus Sublime. When he was still the Fiducian. He wanted to know where the money was going but never looked at the project up close. Something blindered his thinking.”