Glen Cook - The Tyranny of the Night

"Maybe I should be glad I'm not sensitive to that"

"Most people drift through life indifferent to the Night until the Night reaches out and smacks them."

"Like that thing in the Ownvidian Knot."

"Like that. I still don't know what that was about. I have no enemies who'd go to that much trouble. Far easier to have me murdered in the Emperor's prison."

"Maybe you offended the Adversary Himself."

"Hardly. There was a human agency behind that bogon."

"What's that noise?" He knew what it was, though. The racket raised by men unexpectedly attacked.

Doneto went pale. "That can't be … We'd know ahead of time if they sent troops out."

The Praman sorcerers were attacking the Brotherhood. Which suggested lapses in their intelligence in both senses of that word. The Brotherhood contingent was no major threat to al-Khazen.

The uproar ended before Else reached the scene. Something like the monster from Esther's Wood had been driven off by the Principatйs. Three Brothers fell to the thing's fury. None died. Plainly not what those who sent it intended.

Else spotted several key Devedians watching. Was it coincidence that the first blow fell on those who had done the Deves so much hurt? They controlled what both sides knew. Or thought they knew.

The foe tried again, launching point attacks meant to spread terror.

Else asked Doneto, "Is this the thing you warned me about?"

"No. It's a lesser bogon. Entirely foreign."

"Foreign?"

"The overseas Pramans must have brought it. There's nothing like it in Calzir anymore."

"So. Is it the point? Or a diversion?"

"Diversion?"

"What else is going on while we're watching the loud show?" That would be traditional Sha-lug strategy. A fireworks display here while the critical attack went in elsewhere.

"Good thinking, Hecht. I'll look into it Meanwhile, you should see to your troops."

The city regiment needed no seeing to. The men were nervous but disciplined. Sitting at the center of the sprawl of Patriarchal forces, the regiment enjoyed a moat of human flesh. The probes never came close.

Nevertheless, fear remained an abiding presence through the night.

Grade Drocker opined, "Last night was a setback for the Pramans." The Patriarchal commanders had lost the habit of calling their enemies Calzirans. The Calzirans were no longer in charge. "The Night bent to our will instead of theirs."

Else learned that small, cruel things had been sent to still the hearts of Patriarchal commanders. Those deadly clots of shadow had been exterminated. The Principatйs had been waiting. Especially clever men like Bronte Doneto turned some back on al-Khazen's native Pramans.

The soldier's life consisted mainly of waiting, or of marching somewhere in order to wait. Siege work meant concentrated waiting. Else found himself growing impatient. But never so impatient that he lost sight of the fact that impatience was the mother of stupid decisions.

Ghort turned up. "You get the casualty report for last night, Pipe?"

"Not yet. I didn't think we had any. Did we?"

"I'm not sure. I've seen a few men who say they were but it looked more like they had too much liberated wine and got hurt running around in a panic. Then there's that guy who runs the Arniena company. Sayag. He's your pal, isn't he?"

"Not really. We worked together. I saw him last night. What happened?"

"I'm not sure. He isn't, either. He thinks something tried to get him. Yet that doesn't seem likely."

No, it did not. Unless Divino Bruglioni had found out that the Arniena had it in for the Bruglioni. "I don't know. It's a world full of cold miseries, Pinkus."

"And getting colder fast. Everywhere. You don't want to go back home. That end of the world will be under the ice in our lifetimes."

“The whole world will be under the ice, Pinkus. In our lifetimes. If half the rumors are true."

From the observation house, later, Else stared across the snowscape at the walls and roofs and towers of al-Khazen. They seemed darker and more dangerous this morning. Those were his people. But he could summon no sympathy. He was sure there was no sympathy for Else Tage stashed behind those walls, either.

Would the whole world go under the ice? Or would the Wells of Ihrian start to flow more strongly, as might have happened in the past?

Thefollowing night began the same. The night-born attacks from al-Khazen sputtered sooner, however. Bronte Doneto and his cohorts turned the attack, with more vigor.

Only al-Seyhan and Starkden were active. Did they think the third sorcerer was still a secret?

The third night they turned to the Imperial forces.

Ghort caught Else when they were free of Brotherhood watchers, Principatйs, Polo, Deves, and the other plagues upon their lives. "You going crazy with this latest shit, Pipe? I am. These assholes … You think the great old-time conquerors had to put up with the horseshit we get every day?"

"What makes stories from the old days seem so great is that they leave out the pettiness, greed, mean spiritedness, backbiting and infighting."

"Yeah, well. Screw it. You're probably right. People are gonna be people. Which means they're mainly gonna be assholes. I wasn't really wanting to talk about that shit, anyway."

"But you do have something on your mind."

"Oh, yeah. There's always something going on in there. But there's a chance it might not be no more important than what goes on in the heads of all those morons who listen to a story but only hear what they want to hear."

"It's cold out here, Pinkus."

"I do have a point. In the sense that I want you to tell me what you're up to. I don't want to get my ass shredded because don't know the plan."

Else swung an arm across Ghort's shoulder. "Have you been testing the local spoiled fruit juice?"

"That's one thing these Unbelievers do right, Pipe. They ain't 'sposed to drink nothing that might maybe put them in a good mood. Their god must be one sour son of a bitch. But still they manage to make some fine wine."

"You have been sampling."

"Which don't mean shit. What does is, what I want to know is, what're we gonna do?"

"What are you babbling about, Pinkus?"

"You don't even realize, do you?"

"You're right. I'm lost."

Ghort did some verbal exercises to get his tongue under control. "You don't realize that you're the number-one guy, here, now. Top dog, after Grade Drocker. Who plain ain't gonna last much longer."

"You haven't cleared the fog much."

"All right. Look. Here it is. We got what, eleven, twelve thousand men in the Patriarch's army?"

Else grunted. "Twelve thousand, two hundred. And some. Maybe eight thousand able to fight." There was a lot of sickness. But that was worse in the city. "And your point?"

"Haven't you noticed in the big meetings how even assholes like Count Juditch va Geiso shut up when you talk?"

He had not. He had seen that even the Principatйs and most senior nobles deferred to Grade Drocker. "No."

"Sainted Eis's Holy Hernia, Pipe! For a guy who's so clever about shit in the field, you're dumb when it comes to where you fit in the camp. Those guys have watched you on the job, Pipe. Some ain't happy but they've seen you run the regiment. They've seen you fight it They know none of their ruling-class types could do half the job. And none of them want any of the others telling them what to do."

Else had seen that. Plenty. "I don't believe you but I see what you're saying."

"You don't got to believe. But we've done good. Them what don't want to be cold and hungry and maybe dead on account of some idiot who knows jack shit about the war business…."

Else shook his head.

Ghort waved that off. "A lot of people think you're the man who can keep everybody warm and fed and breathing if Drocker kicks the bucket"