* * *
Lady Hope lacked no confidence. She was what she was. In this instance, though, with the old women of the Shining Ones watching, she had few options. She had no room for fun. Nor did she want to make trouble for Kedle. She needed Kedle’s angry Connectens.
She could not adequately credit the changes in the world. What the Shining Ones wanted to be true no longer signified. Only what middle-world mortals believed was relevant now.
The Vindicated and Righteous stopped fighting. Bruised, stunned, the Vindicated withdrew to defensive positions. The Righteous maintained contact without combat, trying to get a better understanding of the situation.
Good. Their anger did not control them.
Lady Hope became young Aldi, with the sensuality constrained, a pretty girl lost and distressed but bearing up bravely. She strode toward the Righteous, who had moved into a field disposition resembling no military formation of the Instrumentality’s experience. The danger was as sharp as it had been those first few minutes out of captivity in the Great Sky Fortress. Death was a single misstep away.
She did her best to appear unthreatening.
She still hurt, when she let that impinge on her consciousness.
A man came to meet her, cautiously. Light falcons with long barrels backed him, positioned to fire past him.
They knew what she was. They were ready.
Men yelled at someone to get back to his place in the line. A boy charged forward. Aldi reached out so she could eavesdrop.
The boy told the man, “She knows me. We can talk.”
“Yeah? You being the Commander’s kid, I’m not even going to ask you how.”
Aldi did recall the boy from the Great Sky Fortress. She would play to him, but carefully.
Man and boy halted where falcon fire would remain a serious argument. Aldi focused on what was going on behind her.
Anne of Menand’s request for a parlay had failed. The Widow would accept nothing less than unconditional surrender.
The boy said, “Hello, Aldi. You look pale this morning. Why did you attack us?”
The man seemed content to let the boy talk. Ah, yes. Hagen Brokke. One of Piper Hecht’s less famous captains.
“I made a grotesque mistake, Pella. I apologize profoundly. Serenity, Henri of Mariscot, Anne of Menand, and their dearest henchmen are trapped in that watchtower back there. When I heard that soldiers were coming I assumed it was a rescue attempt. I should have made sure beforehand. I hope thy casualties were few.”
Brokke said, “The damage was all yours.”
“We have been punished for our stupidity, then. Can we put it behind us?”
Brokke said, “We can. But we need to understand what we each would like to accomplish.”
“Thy mission would be?”
“To bring Arnhand’s new King safely to his throne. We hoped he could deal with his mother today.”
Aldi said, “We will capture Anne of Menand and Serenity. We will end their boundless malice toward the Connec.”
Pella asked, “What will you do once you have them?”
“That choice belongs to the Widow and the Countess of Antieux. I do not expect either will be overwhelmed by any urge toward mercy.”
Then Serenity and Anne could expect execution. They might be caged and dragged from city to town to castle across the Connecten hinterland first. Those who had survived their evils could curse them, throw filth, make clear how much they looked forward to watching them burn.
Brokke said, “Anselin might not agree…” He stopped.
“Anselin has a say, how?”
“He isn’t emotionally entangled with the Connec but he does have feelings about his mother. She is his mother. He may not be able to ignore what outsiders do to her.”
“I will consult the Widow but the prospect of Anselin’s enmity is unlikely to move her. She trusts in her own ferocity.”
“What about the deposed Patriarch?”
“Does anyone care? I think not. Do as thou wilt.”
“I care,” Pella said. “Armand cares.” He did not explain that. “I want Doneto to wallow in filth. I want to kick him while he’s down.”
Aldi tilted her head. The boy was truly bitter. “I will see the Widow. Do thou consult thy prince. But I see little hope for a triumph of reason.”
* * *
Kedle was thoughtful. “A dozen men-at-arms left the tower while you were away. We disarmed them and cut them loose. Ten people are still in there, some of them wounded. They have no food or water. Anne still thinks help will come. What have you got?”
“Complications.”
After listening, Kedle asked, “We can’t just eliminate Anselin, too?”
“The Righteous won’t let us. Nor will my family. They don’t care about the Connec.”
“I was looking forward to dragging Anne hither and yon, then leaving her caged outside Metrelieux till the elements claimed her.”
“Thee needs might cede that dream.”
“Only in absolute extremity. Go back. Convince them. Failing that, stall them. Our position will be stronger once we have Anne and Serenity.”
“I shall begin by failing to hurry back. How is thy leg?”
“It hurts like hell. What do you think?”
“Take something. Thee needs be less bitchy.”
Kedle growled.
“At least thee will heal aright if thee doth take care not to stress it. Doth thee take care?”
“I try. There are limits.” Both true.
Headstrong and fierce though she was, Kedle Richeut would listen to experts, unlike her friend Socia.
In that, even Kedle missed Count Raymone. Only Raymone could rein Socia in.
Lady Hope faced the Widow’s nearest lifeguard. “Hast she behaved herself?”
That grizzled peasant, missing several front teeth, grinned. “She has, Lady. Them boys what the Countess left behind nag her all the time. They won’t hear a word if’n it’s somethin’ agin what the Countess told them.”
Kedle met Hope’s gaze. “I do what I must. I want to ride again. I want to walk and run. It’s frustrating but I’ll wait till somebody who knows better than me says I’m ready.”
“Thee be a true treasure, love. I will see our Imperial friends, now. We don’t want them getting impatient.”
Kedle watched the Instrumentality go. What was it like to be a god? Hope had a distinct hitch in her gait from that bit of godshot. Instrumentalities were not immortal in an absolute sense. Nor did Hope appear powerful in the thunderous, psychotically destructive style of gods spawned amongst the Wells of Ihrian.
On the other hand, she could be seen and touched.
Kedle blushed.
Lady Hope paused behind the artillery tormenting the watchtower. She made a hand gesture as the next missile struck. Tons of stone tumbled, exposing interiors on three levels. A shout went up. Men rushed forward.
* * *
Four men came out as Aldi approached the Righteous. The new two reeked of perversion. “Huh?” That boy was much older than he looked. Older than any of his companions, in fact.
He had been twisted into something wicked, yet innocence remained. He had been forged as a tool of evil but had not become evil himself. Interesting.
Aldi focused on the tall, pretty one, Anselin, the king to be. His confidence waned as she approached. He had been warned. As his contemporaries all did, he had refused to believe.
He felt the weight of her presence now.
Should she become irresistible Aldi and make Anselin over as the vigorous heterosexual his mother wanted him to be?
No. There were witnesses, mortal and divine. The latter would not approve.
Pella announced, “Anselin wishes to speak for himself.”
“And the princess?”
Pella did not react.
Did he not know? Unlikely. So, he did not care.
“Never mind. The Vindicated have captured Anne of Menand and several men close to her, including Henri of Mariscot and the fallen priest, Serenity.” She would deal in facts, not emotions.
Pella said, “The King wants to know your intentions toward your prisoners.”