Glen Cook - Surrender to the will of the night

Hecht stole a glance at Helspeth, who had been stubbornly silent. That startled her. She said, “Surely you’d find service with the Grail Empire an important step forward, Captain-General.” Her voice was breathy. It wavered.

Katrin clearly appreciated the support but was puzzled by her sister’s shyness.

“It would be, indeed,” Hecht said. “I can imagine no greater honor, nor any task more challenging, than being warlord for the Grail Empire in such a holy enterprise. But…”

“But?”

“A crusade would be expensive in the extreme. Even if every fighter volunteers, wages still have to be paid. Men have to eat. Their animals have to eat. Weapons have to be purchased. Armor…”

“There should be wealth enough, Captain-General. Despite the costs of the Calziran Crusade, my father was frugal. He left a sizable treasury. My brother not only preserved that, he added to it. Despite the jackals surrounding him. Likewise, the current Empress. Who expects to come into substantial additional riches soon.” A remark she would not pursue.

“I have a contract with the Patriarch,” Hecht said. “At his will. In effect, I’m his till he loses faith in me. Right now I’m engaged in a bitter campaign to exterminate revenant Instrumentalities in the End of Connec. They refuse to go easily.”

“As with the thing Helspeth defeated.”

“I’ll do what I can about that.”

“And when Boniface goes?” Helspeth asked, voice stronger now. “Will you be free then?”

“No. Bellicose of Viscesment will be the next Patriarch. To reunite the Church. I’ve sworn to stand behind him. In case the Collegium try to renege on the Church’s promises. It’s a pity Boniface became Patriarch so late. He might have earned a place in history, given more time. He’s the best Patriarch I’ve known.”

“Bellicose won’t last long, will he?”

“Boniface may outlive him. His health is fragile.”

The hammering on the door began. Helspeth said, “That took longer than I expected. You’re starting to scare them, Katrin.”

“They’ll have a reason after this. Captain-General. What will it take to bring you here? Will Boniface or Bellicose let me buy you?”

Hecht managed not to eye the Princess Apparent. “Not as things stand. They both have uses for me.”

“If you did serve me would you be just as loyal?”

“Yes. My integrity is what I’m selling. Those people out there do seem to be getting impatient.”

“They’ll regret it.” The Ege steel rang out.

For the ghost of an instant the tips of Princess Helspeth’s left hand fingers brushed the back of Hecht’s right. The effect was electric. He jerked. Helspeth gasped. Katrin paid no mind. The door had begun to open. She was headed that way in a blistering rage.

The Ninth Unknown was in a serious mood. He made no noise to attract the lifeguard outside Hecht’s bedchamber. He whispered, “Wake your dead ass up, boy. We’ve got problems.”

Hecht surfaced from a dream featuring Helspeth and him engaged in activities that could compromise the Grail Throne itself. The old man had a hand over his mouth. That was not necessary. Hecht whispered, “What?”

“Boniface had a stroke. You need to get back to Brothe.”

“I’m stuck here till after the wedding.”

“There might be a coup. Bellicose hasn’t reached Brothe yet. And neither Muno nor I can get close enough to prop up Boniface’s health.”

“Damn!” Hecht swore softly. The timing was awful. “Can you disguise yourself?”

“What?”

“You can manage not to be seen at all. I know. Can you pass as someone you’re not?”

The old man frowned his question in the weak light of a lone candle.

“Can you deliver letters without giving yourself away?”

“I’m listening.”

“I can send orders to the garrisons near the city. And my people in the Connec. If you take the long strides in between, my forces can be in place ahead of time.”

“Send for pen and ink. I’ll find a way.” Februaren turned sideways and vanished.

Hecht summoned the duty lifeguard. “I need quills, ink, paper, and sand. Right away.” He had wax and a candle.

Armed with the appropriate tools, he began writing orders.

Cloven Februaren reappeared. “Too bad you didn’t have more time with the Construct. You could handle this in person.”

“Wouldn’t be smart to let people think I could be two places at once.”

“Good point. Better than good. What were you and the Ege chits doing in that quiet room?”

Hecht forgot his promise first time he was asked. “Katrin wants to hire me to lead a Grail Empire crusade into the Holy Lands.”

“My. My, my. The Palace is going mad, wall to wall, wondering what went on in there. No one thought of that.”

“It caused some excitement?”

“King Jaime and the Council Advisory are livid. They’re blaming Princess Helspeth. Only Jaime has said anything within Katrin’s hearing. She’s dismissed everyone she saw when she stepped out of that quiet room.”

“Good for her. I hope she goes for a clean sweep. Have you learned anything about the Night thing Renfrow reported? Or my purported brother?”

“When would I have had time?”

“Right. One does take an advantage for granted quickly, doesn’t one?”

“You may. I don’t. Seal the letters you have ready. I’ll move them along. Leave the rest here, addressed. And make sure no one can get in here when you’re gone.”

Hecht grunted and folded, then applied wax. Within the minute the Ninth Unknown was gone again.

Hecht settled beside Kait Rhuk. Rhuk asked, “What have we got, boss?” Hecht did not mind the informality. Rhuk did his job. Well.

“You talk much with Prosek about the thing in the Remayne Pass?”

“Yeah. We designed our attack strategy based on what he learned there. Why? Something on the fire?”

“That interview I had with the Empress. She told me the thing is making a comeback. And hopes we’ll do something about it.”

“We can handle it. Our munitions are way better than when Prosek went after it. One good hit should take it out.”

“Good. So. We’ll deal with that. After the wedding.”

“There isn’t much to do, here. For us.”

“So?”

“So I’ve hung around a lot with guys who humped into town with the high and the mighty.”

“And?”

“There are incredible career opportunities for men in my line. Especially up north.”

“Kharoulke the Windwalker.”

“Not yet. Not directly. But his cult is back. That’s weird, isn’t it? The wells of power start drying up and, suddenly, we’ve got ten thousand more Instrumentalities plaguing us. You’d think it would go the other way.”

“Slow down.” Rhuk had a substantial accent. It thickened when he became excited. “Do you know what you’ll do if we do come up against an Instrumentality like Kharoulke?”

“More developed than Seska was. Probably bend over and kiss my ass goodbye.”

“Because?”

“At some point an Instrumentality should become powerful enough to see ambushes ahead of time. Then it’d stand off and do you wicked. With a platoon of first-string sorcerers I could lure him into a trap that didn’t look like a trap until the firing started. If the first salvo was accurate I could finish him before he pulled his shit back together. But if I didn’t get him the first time I’d never get another chance.”

“Not what I’d hoped to hear. But pretty much what I expected.”

“You ask me, boss, if you want to handle a demonic assertion like the Windwalker, you better get the Patriarch on the case with God. Get Him to come out and flex His muscles the way He used to do in the olden days.”