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Again, Hecht thought the villains would just be more careful. A tiger could not help being a tiger.

Helspeth called for his readiness report.

He had little to say that interested those people. It was not political. He did lock gazes with known villains while he talked.

It would be interesting, watching them squirm in Helspeth Ege’s new New Brothen Empire.

* * *

Lady Hilda Daedel drifted between pillars to Hecht’s left, a wisp of white departing, pretending not to see him, pretending she was not a party to what might be about to happen. Her presence unnerved him, though it was expected. That Helspeth had managed to get out unencumbered by Algres Drear was a testament to her cleverness.

The pattern of the women coming here for prayers had been set. St. Miniver’s remained a holy place. The few who visited it told no one. They did not want it swamped.

Visits by the Empress and her women were no longer a matter for speculation, though some gossips wondered if Lady Hilda might not be connecting with one of her several lovers.

Hecht was more concerned about other eyes.

How could the Shining Ones not be watching? Or Ferris Renfrow? Or the Ninth Unknown? Or Heris or Vali or Lila. Any of them could be on to him.

His feet refused to turn back.

Yes. Those perfidious feet.

There she was, kneeling before the altar. A few votive candles burned to either hand. Her simple white gown matched the one Lady Hilda wore. For an instant he worried that Daedel meant to lure him into her tender snare. But, no, Hilda was neither that slim, that tall, nor that blond.

He stepped up on Helspeth’s left, dropped to a knee in respect to the altar, then stepped to the votive candles. Only a handful were burning tonight. He used one to fire the massive candle given him by Hourli.

Time stopped everywhere but inside a circle ten feet across. He saw dust motes, illuminated by the candles, hanging motionless. The flames of the candles and their rising smoke had gone still.

Helspeth, shaking, took his right hand in her left. He said, “This doesn’t have to happen.”

“Oh, yes. It does. I’ve waited years too long already. I knew under the walls of al-Khazen. Every day since has been wasted.” She went on shaking. This was a momentous choice.

“This is treason, under the law. Even for you.”

“Stop talking.” She faced him. The hunger in her seemed a beast looking out of the drowning-pools of her eyes. She had been working herself up for hours.

He knew it was too late. Rational thinking would not intercede. What was about to happen between one man and one woman could impact the lives of millions. Empires might stumble because two people could not help being a man and a woman.

Helspeth asked, “What just happened?”

Hecht explained about the candle.

Her face filled with wonder. “Our God would never be so kind. And … oh! We have all the time we want. It doesn’t have to be like vermin hastily coupling.”

“No.”

The cost to Hourli’s candle was imperceptible when Hecht snuffed it. He stared at it like it was a magical artifact from a fairy story that would, in the end, become the bane of the lovers who had defied the natural order. He could not help thinking of Arlensul, Gedanke, and Ferris Renfrow.

He and Helspeth had said everything that needed saying, and had shared all the final tender moments, before he silenced the flame. When it went out Helspeth appeared to be praying while the Commander of the Righteous rose from a briefer stint of worship. A watcher might sense an instant of dislocation but nothing to stir suspicion.

Hecht went away, neither looking back nor turning back. He glimpsed Lady Hilda amongst the pillars, maybe sneaking back to peek.

Hecht thought he would lie awake for hours in a grim feud with his conscience. Not so. He fell asleep the instant his head hit his pillow.

* * *

Hecht was not yet dressed when Carava de Bos brought a stack of papers. He was troubled. “Can we talk, Boss?”

“Sure. What’s all this?”

“More news from your spy lady. Mostly boring, but you need to know.”

“So you wanted what?”

“An honest answer. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You seem awfully tired lately. And your lifeguards keep complaining about you sneaking out at night.”

“Carava, I don’t sneak. The Empress and I meet in her chapel for evening prayers. That gives us a few minutes when nobody is clamoring for our attention. She’s properly chaperoned, usually by Lady Hilda Daedel but sometimes by another lady of the court.”

They had wrung special enjoyment from sinning vigorously under the nose of Lady Delta va Kelgerberg.

“Even so, you must stop giving your lifeguards the slip. Don’t become overconfident because your strange friends are rooting out all these conspiracies. They can’t read minds.”

“What?”

“There must be hundreds of people who wouldn’t shed a tear if an assassin nailed you. There may be dozens willing to try. What happens if a loner decides to take a crack? He could be watching you right now. When would he be most likely to strike?”

“You’re right again. And you know how I hate it when any of you are right about stuff like that.”

“Just you letting people look out for you is good enough for me.”

Hecht grunted, pulled the new reports closer, skimmed the first. Whoever recorded it had a wonderfully readable hand.

“Sir?”

“You still here?”

“I am. There is another matter.”

Hecht felt defensive immediately, for no discernable reason. De Bos said, “And here we have the further problem.”

“Carava? The further problem?”

“You seeming to be different men at different times.”

Hecht felt deep discomfort immediately. For no reason he was ready to fight de Bos. He stifled the reaction. “Explain.”

“You seem tired all the time.”

That would be Helspeth’s fault. Every assignation stretched a little longer. How did she manage her prolonged days?

“You’ve started nodding off during meetings. When you wake up it’s like you’re a different man, determined to get things done, fast and right the first time.”

“Excuse me? That’s unlike me, how?”

“The you with me right now wants to figure people out. He wants to understand. He wants to talk about things. He wants to form consensus. The other you cares about none of that. The other you tells us how it’s going to be, accepts no excuses, and always guesses right. The other you is a dictator who is frightfully efficient. This you wants to convince people that they should do things your way.”

“Carava, I’m wondering what you have been drinking this morning.”

“The other you wouldn’t care. The other you would have tossed me out with some potent admonition about wasting time.”

“This one is about to give you a whack upside the head.”

“The other you would use his left hand.” De Bos made his exit.

Hecht stood leaning forward, unmoving, for a dozen seconds. That remark had been a hammer blow. But why?

He stared at his left hand.

25. Lucidia: Living and Dead

Nassim Alizarin and a half-dozen hardy veterans reached Shamramdi at sunset, to no welcome. Nassim had been summoned. The Great Shake wanted to know why the crusaders no longer faced a challenge in the gap once commanded by Tel Moussa.

Nassim had an answer. Indala might not accept it but he would stand by it. He had done remarkably well with what he had been given. He had been bested by a determined enemy, nature, and the indifference of those who were supposed to support him.

Nassim Alizarin was angry. He felt that he had been betrayed.

News of his arrival ran ahead. Azim al-Adil ed-Din materialized. He told Nassim, “If Uncle’s summons has you worried, don’t be. It isn’t your effort that he wants to review.”