Glen Cook - Surrender to the will of the night

Numerous delegations had departed Alten Weinberg in recent weeks. Several of Algres Drear’s suspects had been posted to one or another. Almost, Hecht thought, as if the person handing out the appointments had a good idea which of her subjects might be most useful farthest from town.

Helspeth said, “It’s risky. No telling what Katrin will do if Jaime flat refuses to see her again.”

“I hear rumors that she’s not well.”

“Rumors? You saw her the other day. Did she look healthy?”

“No.”

“No is right. Her physicians keep looking grim. At the same time, a lot of people who are never nice to me have been stricken kind.”

“Good. Have the physicians told you anything?”

“Not really. They thought she was being poisoned. Caches of arsenic and belladonna were found in the Winterhall kitchen. The cooks disavowed any knowledge. They didn’t seem to be lying. There’s no sorcerer available who can backtrack and identify the culprit.” And that villain would have been busy covering trail.

“I wondered. Because of how she looked. But she started improving.”

“Because of you.”

“What?”

“People notice things, Piper. Like you having your men tag along behind half the nobles in the city. Things like thugs who try to discourage your men ending up thoroughly discouraged themselves.”

“Really?” He had not known about that. But he did not need to know. “The people being followed are supposed to notice. The idea is to encourage them to behave.”

“They’re encouraged. Katrin’s health started improving right away. So much that she noticed and worked it out for herself. So she started handing out ambassadorships to people you seemed not to trust.”

“It’s all working out, then.”

“Except that she’s still sick in her head and heart. In her soul and her body. A lot of people think she’ll die even if she isn’t being poisoned.”

“Which they thought about your brother.”

“And Lothar died.”

“But years later than even the optimists were betting. Your sister does still have something to live for. Her crusade.”

“Her mad expedition that she hopes will make her more famous than Hansel Blackboots.”

“Is that how you see it?”

“Don’t you?”

“No. I believe her. She’s so sincere it’s terrifying. When you consider where her determination might take us. What it might cost the world.”

“You puzzle me, Piper. Truly. I’d expect you to be a butcher. The nature of your profession. But you do care about the harm you do. Maybe that’s what… No. That’s animal. It started the first time I saw you. Anyway, my father cared, too. A great deal.”

“Cared but didn’t let caring keep him from doing what needed doing.”

“Nor will you.”

“No. I won’t.”

“You showed that in the Connec.”

“I hope the world understands the points I was trying to make. But I doubt it. Most people can’t get anything more subtle than a hammer between the eyes.”

Helspeth poured fresh coffee. She contrived to touch him several times as she did.

Several women noticed. None seemed to care.

Hecht wondered if there might not be a faction hoping a liaison developed. That could take Helspeth off the marriage market for a decade at least. Once a woman reached a certain age she was no longer expected to be an innocent maiden. Especially if she came equipped with a handsome dowry.

What could be more handsome than an entire empire?

To the pleasure of some and the despair of others the Empress regained her color and strength and energy, if not her full grasp on reality. She became bold. She braved the streets with a handful of lifeguards. She looked fortune in the teeth and sneered. She passed many of her more tedious duties to her sister and spent her time watching the troops train, both those assembling at Hochwasser and her own Righteous, as she now styled Piper Hecht’s force. Which she authorized to increase their numbers twice over the course of just two weeks.

She bestowed the incomes of several of her grander holdings upon the Righteous, having seen little waste and less corruption there.

There being no stemming the flood of money, Hecht armed Buhle Smolens with an additional mission and the power to enforce it.

Temptation toward corruption would be growing. Hecht made it absolutely clear that graft and corruption would not be tolerated. Not even where local custom made it acceptable.

He did not find these sins morally abhorrent, just detrimental to the image and reputation he wanted to create for himself and the Righteous.

The Remayne Pass to Firaldia was not yet open when the Righteous moved out, intent on circling the Jagos to the east. The mission was to begin preparing the country in that direction for next year’s passage of armies.

Those looked likely to be bigger than hitherto hoped. The Empress would send priests to preach the crusade in Arnhand, Santerin, Direcia, and all the lesser principalities of the west.

With permission from the Eastern Emperor quartermaster companies would move into foreign territories to scout out the best routes overland.

Dozens of Imperial knights and nobles invited themselves along. Hecht thought they wanted to keep an eye on him more than they meant to contribute anything to the cause.

The Empress invited herself, as well.

The woman was in pursuit of her childhood. She brought out the armor she wore when she and her sister followed Johannes south for the Calziran Crusade. That armor was much looser on the older Katrin.

The Empress seemed happy. Her health continued to improve. Reports from the people who had gone to Castauriga were encouraging.

Hecht found them suspect. Those people could not have traveled that far, worked their way into the presence of a disinterested King Jaime, then have had time to get a messenger back to Katrin, all the way to Glimpsz.

The lands through which the Commander and his troops passed were strange and mostly wilderness. The farther the Righteous marched the more palpable the presence of the Night became. In the nebulous region between empires the Instrumentalities had a presence sensible even at high noon.

It was a presence aware of and intimidated by the passage of the Godslayer.

The Godslayer had his firepowder weapons travel charged with godshot. Men with slow matches paced them, always ready should the Night do something unfriendly.

Heris would not explain but during widely separated, brief visits did promise that big things were happening elsewhere. Eventually, the Night would notice. He needed to stay alert. The Night’s ire might turn his way.

After each whispering visit Hecht wondered again what she and Februaren and the revenant were doing. He had only the vaguest notion. His cynical side suggested that they were up to no good and were hiding the details because he would take it in the neck if their scheme went sour.

There was no defined, formal frontier between the Grail Empire and the Eastern Empire. That remained in dispute, always. East and west were, instead, separated by a myriad of minuscule principalities informally attached to one empire or the other, usually by the claims of the respective Emperors. Though they paid tribute these states were independent in the minds of their princes, who never proclaimed that independence lest they spark a response by bruising an imperial ego.

Hovacol was an exception. Cleverly, though, Hovacol chose not to lie directly between empires. Instead, it lay to the east of the geographic pinch. King Stain declared he was no one’s running dog. Of late he had begun making noises about extending his own sway over his neighbors. The empires were busy elsewhere. Emperor and Empress seemed content to ignore him.