“My chariot has a loose wheel…”
“Go away or I’ll call my brothers.” The door slammed shut.
In a panic, Chies uttered a silent scream: Open that door!
Chain rattled. The door swung open. The man who stood there wore a Hero collar, but he was young and had only one arm and one eye. The eye was blinking rapidly, as if he did not know why he had just done what he had just done. A man with one arm couldn’t be too dangerous. He couldn’t even battleform.
“You will obey me.”
“Evil One take you if I do! You pox-faced, squint-eyed, overgrown little turd, you can stuff-”
You will obey me!
“I will obey you,” the man agreed. Then, even louder, “Why should I? What are you doing to me?”
“Be quiet!” Chies squeaked.
Silence.
“Call me ‘lord.’”
“My lord is kind.”
“You will not speak unless I tell you to. What is your name?”
“Eligio Lomotti, my lord.”
Enjoying himself now, Chies said, “Who else is in the house, Eligio?”
“Only my wife and children, lord.”
“Tell her to light some candles, and then you come with me.”
Chies headed back to the chariot. A moment later he heard a crash behind him as the man stepped in a rut and fell headlong. An outburst of lurid oaths ended abruptly. When he scrambled up, covered with mud or worse, Chies took his wrist and led him the rest of the way to the car.
“You deal with this and the guanacos and then come back to the house.”
“My lord is kind.”
“Come, Aunt, I’ll carry you myself.” He would not have tried that even yesterday-he had been making Sesto do all the heavy work-but he was a Chosen now and thought his abilities ought to include some manly strength. Saltaja did not object when he went to lift her, and was no great burden to carry to the cottage. Aha!
The house was a better peasant kennel than others he had seen on his travels. The first room boasted a table and stools, a big stone fireplace, and two doors leading to other places. Metal pots sat in with the crocks on a shelf, and nets of roots ands dried fruit hung from the beams. Lingering food scents made his mouth water. Tiles on the floor were a real luxury.
The girl had lit half a dozen candles, probably about two sixdays’ normal usage. She was cowering in a corner, hugging a weepy infant. Another brat clung to her leg. Chies set his aunt down and went to the girl. She glanced up in fear and he had her.
“You will obey me, no matter what I tell you to do.”
Her eyes glazed. “I will obey you.”
She was a lovely thing, with curly hair and milk-swollen breasts. He felt tremors of excitement under his chlamys, the sort of reaction Babila produced in him. He’d never had any trouble bouncing her! Yes, tonight would be good. This one’s husband was a rebel. He deserved to have his wife raped. He deserved to have to watch.
“Call me ‘darling.’”
“Darling?”
“As if you meant it. Better. Now kiss me like you kiss Eligio.”
She put down the brat, clasped Chies’s face between her hands, and pushed her mouth on his, exploring with her tongue. Mmm! Wow! Eligio was a lucky man. When she paused for breath, Chies debated priorities, then decided he was too hungry to enjoy anything else before he ate. Sex could wait. “I want food, lots of it. The woman needs soup and help eating it.”
Saltaja had found a seat by the hearth and was leering horribly. “Think you can get it up this time, sonny?”
Oh, gods! He should have guessed that he had not been fooling her.
“She’s going to make up for all the others.”
“No reason why not, if that’s what you want. There’s not much you can’t do now, lad, as long as you keep pleasing the Mother.”
“Would a good rape please Her?”
“Of course. And a dead rebel in the morning?”
Gulp! “Why not?” Chies preferred to think about the first part of the program, but Papa would expect him to kill a rebel.
While he ate, he learned that her name was Carmina. If she was one-sixth as good in bed as she was as a cook, then he wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight. Eligio returned and put the two brats to bed. One of them was colicky. Chies told it to shut up and it stopped wailing instantly. Growing tired of the hatred blazing in the Werist’s eye, he ordered him to go out and stand in the rain until the mud washed off. The man obeyed without a word.
When Chies was done eating and about ready to take Carmina to bed, Saltaja told him to call Eligio back in, they had business to attend to. The rancher was soaked, of course, and grinding his teeth with fury, although he did not say anything. Sesto had been much more subservient. Chies still had much to learn about Control.
“Question him,” his aunt said.
“Right.” Chies left Eligio standing and pulled Carmina down on his lap to fondle her. “When was the last time you saw Marno Cavotti?”
The Werist bared his teeth. His arm trembled violently. He made choking noises, but he had to answer. “Yesterday, lord.”
“When?”
“About this time.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know, lord.” He smiled triumphantly.
“Who was with him?”
“A woman, a man, five Heroes.”
Chies translated.
“Their names!” Saltaja shrieked. “Where did they go?”
Eligio snarled, but Chies dragged out answers. Orlad and Waels had left at sunset to swim to the city. Fabia and Dantio had gone that morning by more conventional means, to be delivered to an agent in Celebre.
“What agent?” Chies demanded. Father would want to know. So would he, when he was doge. Traitors!
Eligio had chewed his lower lip bloody, watching where Chies’s hand was straying. “Berlice Cavotti.”
“You’re lying! She’s head of the Stralg party on the council.”
“I am not lying, lord.”
Chies looked doubtfully at Saltaja. Was it possible for the Mutineer’s mother to play a double game and deceive Stralg’s seers while doing it? Or had she deceived her son and betrayed the Celebres? Something to worry about.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Lord, you are the Fist’s bastard from the palace.”
Ah, he would certainly have to die. “Correct. My companion and I need to get into Celebre without being questioned by ice devils. How will you arrange that for me?”
Eligio snarled. “Just go. Now, tonight.”
“The gates shut at sunset.”
“Not tonight. You go outside and listen. The trumpets are blowing. The doge has died. No curfew tonight.”
Puzzled, Chies translated.
Saltaja uttered a shriek and staggered to her feet. “Blood! Blood!” She stared in the direction of the city. “I can smell blood!”
Chies could not imagine how she could smell anything at all with that oozing, rotting stump of a nose. She was crazy. “Um, do we want to go there now?”
“Yes! Yes! They’re fighting! Stralg may be there. And Fabia Celebre almost certainly is! And the next doge must be there to claim the throne. Tell that one-eyed idiot to harness up a chariot for us.”
Drive in the dark?… “Yes, of course, Aunt. Eligio, we need your best car and best team. Now!” He sighed at Carmina. He would have to postpone his enjoyment until another day. “You go and help him. Aunt, we won’t kill them, will we? That would leave a trail from Veritano to here and then to me, when I’m doge. Show me how to make them forget us, Aunt.”
Saltaja sighed. “Softie! But I suppose you’re right.”
DANTIO CELEBRE
was overloaded, losing detail. Whole areas were disappearing from his vision. Fighting had broken out in Pantheon Way. He knew that men other than Orlad and Waels were invading the palace grounds, but he could not identify them. If any were Werists, he hoped they were Marno’s. They might just be town youths scrambling over the palace walls to view the action, stimulated by the near-riot spreading through the city. Roused by the doge’s death, Celebre was bursting out of its long sleep.