Glen Cook - Lord of the Silent Kingdom

"Steadfast Guardian is what they call the Chief Castellan of the Grail Order. But, you're right, it can be given as an honor, too. Generally to somebody who has slaughtered an impressively large number of savages."

"Such is the way of the… What?" Doneto sat straight up, reminding Hecht of nothing so much as a hound startled out of sleep. "Pinkus. Did you…?"

Ghort asked, "Principate?"

"Something just happened. A force stirred. But I don't feel it now."

Hecht suspected someone in brown might have tried to enter the room. Something in the doorway had made his amulet react when he arrived.

Hecht put on his best perplexed expression and waited.

Doneto relaxed. He said, "Colonel Ghort tells me you feel we have a neutral balance of obligation between us."

"Essentially. I wakened you in the Ownvidian Knot. You got me out of captivity in Plemenza. Most would consider a life of slightly more value, but I'm content."

Doneto nodded. To himself. "And how do you feel about Principate Delari?"

"I owe him a great deal, professionally."

"Indeed. And many wonder why."

"It's worked out well for everyone. So far."

"I think Rudenes Schneidel would demur."

Hecht chuckled. "And well he ought."

"Were you aware that Muniero Delari and I were once great enemies?"

"He mentioned having had a problem with you, yes. He said it was all a misunderstanding. That you'd discovered that you were both working toward the same objective."

"Not quite true, but a good foundation for a truce. Where has he been lately? He's been invisible since the election."

"I don't know. I haven't seen him. I'm supposed to take the family to his town house this evening."

The coffee arrived. The old woman who brought it was shaking.

"Hannah?" Doneto asked. "What is it?"

"A ghost, Your Grace. Or something of the Night. Right out there. Cold, Your Grace. Cold as the grave."

Doneto scowled at Hecht. "What did you bring into my house?"

"Nothing. You know I'm stone deaf to anything sorcerous."

"Except when it's about to murder you in the mountains. So. The question would seem to be, what follows after you? The answer would interest a lot of people."

"Sir?"

"You live a charmed life, Piper Hecht. Neither Death nor the Night seem able to find you, however hard they try."

"Praise the Lord."

"Enjoy your coffee. Hannah, show me where this happened." Doneto left the room.

Hecht asked Ghort, "Want some?"

"Only two cups there, Pipe."

"Only two of us here."

"I can't get away with the games you play, Pipe."

"Speaking of, what's he up to? What does he want?"

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

"I think he's trying to get a feel for how much trouble you'll be down the road."

"He's known me almost as long as you have."

"And I'm wondering, too. Things happen around you, Pipe. You maybe don't have a friggin' thing to do with getting them started. Like them soultaken that turned up at al-Khazen. You didn't conjure them, but according to anybody who looked into it, they were there on account of you. Them and Starkden and Masant al-Seyhan. Then you got Rudenes Schneidel making a career out of trying to kill you. And a giant-ass worm crawling up out of the ground, fixing to eat your ass. And that's just the shit I know about. What all else have guys like Doneto spotted?"

"So I'm like, what? The Chosen One of Legend? Something like that? And God, or the gods, haven't bothered to let me in on the secret?"

"Hey. That could be." Ghort stepped over to where he could look out the doorway. Then he stepped back and helped himself to a long swig off a bottle of liqueur he took from a sideboard near where he had been standing. A dozen bottles in various shapes stood there. Glass bottles. Those alone bespoke wealth and power. "I'm not the expert." He did the peek-out-and-duck-back again, drank from a different bottle. "Ugh! That's foul."

"What do you think is going on?"

"I told you. Sizing you up. Him looking farther down the road than most of the Collegium. Those others just want to get you gone to the Connec. You can do some good there and be out of the way at the same time. Doneto is maybe worried that you might turn into the kind of threat that Pacificus Sublime feared."

Hecht wondered how rehearsed this might be. "Why would people consider me a threat because I do my job?" It had to be his fault, somehow. It kept coming up.

Doneto returned just after Ghort helped himself to a third draught of liqueur. He stopped halfway across the room, sniffed, frowned, seated himself. His glance darted to the bottles. "How is the coffee?"

"Excellent."

"Pinkus, you should have taken the other cup. It's getting cold."

"I'd never presume, Your Grace."

Doneto almost smiled.

"Hecht, I'd hoped to spend a few hours getting a better feel for your views. But I have to deal with something that's gotten into the house. That's a real problem right now. I'll have to take the rest as it comes."

Hecht hoped he looked suitably bewildered. And just irked enough, with a dark glance at Ghort, to make Doneto think he believed the interruption had been staged.

He hoped Cloven Februaren had gotten a running start.

"It must be you," Madouc said as they descended to the street outside Doneto's town house. "You go in anticipating a long session and they bounce you right back out."

"This time the guy had a paranoid seizure. He suddenly decided that something awful had invaded his house. He had to get it out. Nothing else mattered."

"And he wasn't looking at you when he said it?"

"You're in a feisty mood. He was not looking my way."

"Got to do what I can to keep my spirits up, sir. This will be my longest day since we got back from Artecipea."

"Take the rest off. I don't need a shadow."

"How can you be bright about so much, yet persistently dumb about your own safety?"

Hecht started to argue.

"Sir! There are people and things who want to kill you. Wishful thinking won't change that."

Hecht grumbled something to the effect that somewhere Anna Mozilla was cackling and rubbing her hands together. Anna had started hinting that he should consider retirement. He owed no one. And the Connecten campaign had brought wealth his way. Not a vast fortune such as Sublime had hoped to gain but enough to live comfortably.

He could not do that. He was not made that way. Chances were, he would follow Grade Drocker's example and die in service. Possibly equally miserably.

Hecht grumbled some more. Without point. It was unreasonable to expect the anonymity he had enjoyed when he, Ghort, Bo Biogna, and Just Plain Joe joined the first expedition into the Connec.

"Madouc, I understand. Intellectually. But I'll never like dragging a mob around."

"We could solve that by letting you get got once. Not fatally. Just enough to get the message pounded into your soul."

"Yes. That might do it." Really? After the attempts he had survived already?

There was. only one way he could get what he wanted back. Rid the world of er-Rashal al-Dhulquarnen. Or pray that Nassim Alizarin would do so.

"Well, Madouc, I'll try to uncomplicate your life. I'll stay inside safe places as much as I can."

Madouc did not appear mollified. Presumably because he recalled the firepowder attack on Anna's house.

"At least learn to delegate." Madouc did not trust his own men to do their jobs without him watching over their shoulders.

"A shortcoming of my own."

"Well, that's interesting," Hecht said as he helped Anna board Principate Delari's coach.

"What's that?" She was ravishing. She had commissioned a new gown. Hecht wished he could parade her through the Chiaro Palace, just to make those cranky old men drool.

"Madouc. He found a way to compromise with his conscience and let his men do their jobs."