“I—” Dagobert’s face, too, becomes a mask of uncertainty. “I did what we were all forced to do, Father. I cannot boast of it, for it was …” The youth’s voice trails off, and his eyes turn toward the ground. “It was necessary — and terrible. Nothing less — or more …”
Arnem leans down to meet Dagobert’s eyes intently. “And that is war, young man,” he says quietly. “For you are no longer to be counted a ‘boy’—by myself or anyone else. That much is plain …” Standing and turning to the old veteran who rests upon his crutch, Arnem speaks aloud once more: “And you are Kriksex — a few wrinkles cannot disguise that much. I know that you will forgive the concern for my family that prevented my greeting you at once, Linnet. But do not doubt my awareness of how very much I am indebted to you: for my wife made it clear in her letters to me that you have spared no effort to ensure their safety.”
“Despite the many strange things we have seen of late in the Fifth District, Sentek,” Kriksex answers, “my loyalty to the Talons, to you, and to your house has remained intact. Like your son, I did my duty, and nothing more — although with no little happiness, in this case, for your lady and Master Dagobert both share your courage and your own devotion to all in Broken that is truly good and noble.”
“And for that, I shall see to it that you are rewarded by the God-King and the Grand Layzin with more than a crutch — even a well-worked crutch,” Arnem pronounces. “For it appears that our rulers were as much taken in by Baster-kin’s mad schemes as were many of us.”
“But, Sixt,” Isadora says, her joy suddenly mitigated by worry. “I do not see the rest of the children—”
Arnem turns to indicate Radelfer, who rides with the advance force of his cavalry. “Fear not, wife,” the sentek says. “Radelfer more than fulfilled the commission with which you charged him: the other children wait, fed and safe, within my tent outside the city.”
Isadora looks at the former seneschal of the clan Baster-kin, regaining her ordinarily noble outward bearing. “Thank you, Radelfer,” she says. “I, of all people, know how much your change of allegiance and your safekeeping of my children have cost you, not only in rank, but in the realization that Rendulic Baster-kin’s heart had not, in the end, survived the torment he had endured as a boy.”
“True, my lady,” Radelfer says softly, riding closer to the garden gate and nodding respectfully. “Even so, the cost was not so great as the dishonor of refusing your request would have been. And may I take a moment to add”—he turns to Kriksex—“that I am glad to find that this old comrade of mine has also managed both to fulfill his pledge to you, as well as to keep himself alive. Although I am not sure that there has ever existed a member of the Merchant Lord’s Guard who could have put an end to such a man.”
Kriksex shrugs the one of his shoulders that does not rest upon his crutch. “There existed some few who made determined attempts, Radelfer,” he replies. “Although I am happy to say that they no longer draw breath …”
Turning about, Arnem and Radelfer both see that most of the Talons’ advance force, recognizing that their commander would as soon be alone with his family, have either taken advantage of his permission to disperse in order to attend to the safety of their own kin, or have begun the task of hunting down the remaining units of Lord Baster-kin’s Guard: men who seem to have made every attempt to disappear amongst the population of the city, for there is no sign of any organized resistance on their part. And yet, seasoned commander that he is, Sixt Arnem takes little comfort from this seeming fact, as yet — for the Guard, he suspects, will prove every bit as treacherous in defeat as the sentek has now learned that their commander has been since the beginning of the Talons’ campaign.
“I am glad to hear it, Kriksex,” Arnem murmurs, eyeing the streets. “And yet — there is something so utterly strange about what has taken place within this city, in so brief a period of time, that I cannot help but wonder if forces other than the sword have been at work.” He turns to Isadora with a slight smile. “You have not taken to conjuring, have you, wife?”
“Had I but been able,” Isadora replies, bravely returning his smile as she softly lands a fist upon his chest, “there are one or two qualities about certain people I would have changed. No, if this was magic, then it was someone else’s — for as soon as it became apparent that the South Gate would fall, orders began to be issued from the Inner City and the Sacristy of the High Temple. We still do not know the wording of most of them, but — at least half the Merchants’ Council have been arrested, and their properties confiscated. No one in the first three districts is certain, even now, of what fate may await their own families, but all citizens were ordered to remain in their homes, until the conclusion of the ‘present unpleasantness.’ Yet no statement has yet been made as to what the ‘unpleasantness’ was, or to who was responsible for it — although just a few minutes ago, I observed Lord Baster-kin being escorted to the north, by a group of armed attendants from the High Temple. And, soon thereafter, I observed a man I believe to have been Caliphestros himself, astride what could only have been the white panther of Davon Wood, making his way toward the High Temple. I might suspect the sorcery to be his, save that I learned long ago that he has never believed in or practiced the sorts of dark arts for which he was condemned. Sixt — what can it all mean? How did that poor man come to return to Broken by such remarkable means? And what of our children, now that all this has taken place — would they not now be safer here, with us, than in your camp?”
Despite his lingering soldier’s worries concerning the missing members of the Merchant Lord’s Guard, Arnem can perceive, when he studies Isadora’s face an instant more, that — relieved though she may be at his return, and determined as she may also be to display the confident demeanor that his men have come to expect from her — she will not be truly easy in her mind until all of her young ones are brought home. With this in mind, he addresses the former seneschal of the great Kastelgerd that is, apparently, no longer the center of Rendulic Baster-kin’s power.
“My lady and I have asked much of you, Radelfer, in recent days — do not doubt my awareness of that,” the sentek says. “But I have one last service — nay, call it rather a request — that I would make.” Arnem faces the Path of Shame, where only his two most trusted linnets, Akillus and Niksar, remain in attendance. “Akillus,” he says. “Accompany Radelfer back to our camp, and let it be known that our main force may return to the city, under the cautions I previously declared. And Radelfer, if you will accompany my officers, you can perform this final favor: my children have grown to trust you, and if you will bring them here to their mother and their home, in the same wagon that transported them safely out of Broken, Akillus will escort you with a half dozen of his best men.” Radelfer shows every sign of being pleased to be entrusted with this task, and he wheels on his mount, quickly joining Akillus as the latter sets a rapid pace for the now utterly reduced South Gate.
“And Niksar?” Arnem continues. “Ride, if you will, to the Fourth District. Inform Sentek Gerfrehd — or any other senior officer who is currently commander of the watch — that we have returned, and are beginning our pursuit of the Merchant Lord’s Guard. They may join us or not — but as we have had naught but favorable signs regarding our undertaking from the Grand Layzin and the God-King, they should feel no sense of divided loyalties. After that — proceed with the undertaking in the First District that we have previously discussed.”