Hecht rubbed his left wrist. The amulet barely tickled this morning.
Principat? Delari had done good. He had done real good.
Military operations continued. Krois had to be isolated. The Chiaro Palace had to be neutralized. The north side gates had to be taken under control to forestall their use by the Captain-General, whose motley Patriarchal levies now outnumbered the Imperials harassing them.
Hecht went to one of the little gates of the Castella dollas Pontellas and asked to see his family. After he had made arrangements for his soldiers with families locally to visit their loved ones, with minimal risk.
Chaos waxed and waned. There were no serious outbreaks. No attack on the Devedian quarter materialized. Hecht was quick to encourage rumors that blamed him for having kept an attack from developing.
Hecht finally sat down with his family. Even Muniero Delari was there. Though triumphant, the old man looked like he was on his last legs, and believed that himself. “This time was too much, Piper. Protecting the Construct, harassing Doneto, slaying his monster, trying to turn the tide in the Collegium… All too much for one old man. And Doneto is still out there, scheming up something else.”
“You stop. He’s been thwarted. Leave the rest for someone else.”
“There is no one else.”
“Pella. I have a mission for you. You can draft Vali to help.”
“Dad?”
“Put this old coot into bed and sit on him till I tell you to turn him loose. Brothe will survive without him tinkering.”
Vali and Pella closed in on Delari. They did not have to drag him. And he did not protest.
All he needed was for someone to take the decisions away. He could then surrender to exhaustion.
“You’ve been unnaturally quiet since I got here,” Hecht told Anna, lying in bed. She had been powerfully responsive but otherwise uncharacteristically silent.
“I don’t know what it is. I can’t deal with all this emotionally. It’s so frustrating because there’s no way to make it change. We are who we are and the world is what it is, and, I firmly suspect, I wouldn’t be the least bit happier if everything suddenly changed to be exactly the way I think I want it.”
“You always were able to look past emotion. Better than me, really.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“This isn’t over by a long way. Pinkus is coming and he outnumbers me.”
“And you’ll fight. Of course.”
“Not if I can help it. If I can root Serenity out first…”
“No more. Just be here. And save all that for Titus and the others.”
“How are No? and the children?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from them since all this started. Hauf wouldn’t extend the protection of the Brotherhood to a family of Deves.”
“Titus went down there. We’ll know tomorrow.” He felt a deep and selfish dread that the news would not be good.
Bad news might cost him Consent’s talents.
He did not want to think about that. He did not want to think. He lost himself in the lovemaking.
Relative peace ruled the Mother City. There were skirmishes but no serious bloodlettings. Hecht stayed busy seeing all the people who felt they had a claim on his time. He figured Serenity was just as busy over in Krois.
There was good news. Titus had found his family safe and well and met his newest son for the first time. Further, No?’s family had, at last, forgiven her for having deserted the faith of her ancestors when her husband converted. She had reconciled with them.
Hecht never was convinced that Consent’s conversion was genuine so he had no trouble seeing No?’s as illusory.
No matter. He was pleased for Titus.
One of those who made demands was Addam Hauf, Master of the Castella Commandery. Hauf was deeply interested in exploring the Imperial commitment to a new crusade.
“That answer is simple,” Hecht told Hauf. “We go next summer, barring disaster. And barring any shortage of funds.”
Hauf chuckled. “Catch that rascal Doneto. Hang him up by his ugly big toes. Make him pay. He must have chests full of bribe monies by now.”
Not so. One reason some Principat?s were deserting Serenity was that he had not yet paid for their votes.
“He might not be so well off, now. Not getting any income out of the Empire since Katrin changed her mind.”
“Take it back.”
“Excellent idea. Easier said than done with him forted up inside Krois.”
Somewhere, remotely, a half-dozen falcons popped off. Probably weapons on the banks of the Teragi harassing Krois. The effort was psychological rather than practical. The projectiles were not massive enough to do serious damage.
Hauf said, “There are passages under the river.”
“And Serenity knows.”
“Death trap?”
“Absolutely.” Maybe. Principat? Delari was working on that. And having little luck.
“The Empire definitely is committed to a crusade?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Though even next summer may be too late.”
“Why is that?”
“While we’re fighting amongst ourselves here Indala is involved in a campaign to unite the kaifates so he can undertake a crusade of his own.”
“Really?”
“Really. Does that shock you?”
“It’s unexpected. And it can’t be good for us. But… He expects to prevail against Gordimer the Lion and the Sha-lug?”
“He’d have to, wouldn’t he? Or he wouldn’t have marched on Dreanger in the first place.”
“I suppose.”
Hecht had paid little attention to Gordimer, Dreanger, and the east these past few years. Could the Lion have sunk so far?
A summons came from the Penital, over the Ambassador’s signature. Terens Ernest and ten men in long mail shirts walked Hecht over. He did not see how they could prevent a repeat of what had happened last spring.
His wound still bothered him.
As they walked, Ernest said, “Sir, I’m your height and weight. I’ve been practicing walking your way, with that kind of shovel handle up the spine and ax handle across the shoulders posture. We should put me in your clothes when we’re outside, now. With things slowed down the bad guys will have time to plan all kinds of mischief.”
“Terens, I don’t know if I should kiss you or tell you you’re the stupidest man I ever met. You’re right. Extra precautions need to be taken. In fact, we all ought to wear our mail shirts and helmets whenever we go out.”
“Yeah.” Sarcastically. The Commander of the Righteous was the only man there not wearing a helmet.
Hecht said, “I’ll adjust my habits.”
The Ambassador greeted Hecht warmly. “Very pleased to see you again, Commander.”
“Tell you the truth, till ten days ago I wouldn’t have considered it possible. Your father has been doing amazing things.”
“Hasn’t he? And not that long ago we thought he was headed for the bone pile.”
“You may get to see the new man before long. So. To what do I owe the honor of the summons?”
“She wants to see you. She isn’t happy. You don’t consult her. You haven’t kept her informed since the Battle of the Shades.”
Hecht did not protest. That was true. Were Consent, Vircondelet, Sedlakova to operate that way he would knock some heads together. But…
That admission did not leave him less resentful of the identical attitude in his employer.
The Ambassador escorted him to a huge quiet room where the Empress waited-after a delay meant to remind him of who was master and who was servant.
He had yet to get it into his head that the Empress was always there, looking over his shoulder. She was not remote the way the Patriarchs had been when he was Captain-General.
The rich smell of coffee hit him when the door opened. His mouth watered. The odor seemed a good omen.
On the other hand… He saw no servants, no lifeguards, no ladies-in-waiting as he headed toward the source of the smell. Alone.