Despite every effort, the Enterprise had serious flaws. Most dangerous of those was the fact that command was not monolithic. The Enterprise was a hosting, not an integrated army. It was a collection of mobs following numerous princes and nobles, each with an inflated opinion of his own worth. For the moment they were headed the same direction, professing the same ambitions.
Hecht could not be everywhere, heading off trouble. He had to count on the Shining Ones.
Titus Consent reminded him, “You have better control than the lords of the last crusade. You did think about what needs to be done. You studied their mistakes. You laid out … Never mind. Relax. Get wasted. Turn it off for a few days.”
“A bit late, isn’t it? The Enterprise is under way.”
“Sure. But we won’t move out, yet.”
Yes. But … Hecht had an idea. It terrified him. But once it occurred he had to pursue it. “Titus. Have breakfast with me tomorrow.”
Consent looked puzzled. “All right. Can I get a hint?”
“No. Now scoot. I need to think.” He retreated to his private quarters, he executed the summons for Hourli. The Shining One was not pleased when she materialized.
“Did I drag you away from something important?”
“From scouting for hazards ahead of the Enterprise.”
“I’ll try not to waste your time. I need messages delivered.”
Hourli seemed mildly impressed. “It’s not much yet, but here you go, starting to act like the man in charge.”
“You’ll handle it?”
“Of course. It’s what we’re here for.” She vanished. She had not smiled once.
Hecht collected his time candle and slipped away to the church of St. Miniver, Martyr.
* * *
Helspeth arrived acting mopey. She was not interested in a passionate encounter. Nor was Hecht. She observed, “You’re glum tonight.”
“I haven’t recovered from the blast.” No one had asked about the miracle of their survival but a lot of speculation was afoot. Good thing the Choosers had gone away fast.
“That and the fact that we’re jumping off into history?”
“There is that, darling. I’m overwhelmed by the magnitude. God Himself may think we’re overreaching.”
“You’re overthinking. You should be stripping me naked, but I’m having the same thoughts. I’m terrified that we’ll stumble into a disaster so huge they’ll mock us till the end of time. I’m scared that my name will become the punch line to a thousand jokes.”
“Helspeth Ege, possibly with her identity slightly disguised, is much more likely to become the subject of a cycle of love songs.”
This relationship was the sort that jongleurs lauded.
The suggestion pleased Helspeth. He snuggled close. Neither spoke for a while. Then Helspeth said, “Hilda says that some courtiers are starting to ask questions.”
“About us?”
“About you and her.”
“Oh.”
“Is that disappointment? It was the impression we were trying to give.”
He laughed without humor. “No. Though that liaison would be easier.”
“Don’t start that stuff.”
“It’s human nature, lover. God made us all want more than we have, no matter what we have or how much of it.”
“God? Or the Adversary?”
“That could be. With all the other devils around, why not the biggest one of all? You’re not the Tempter, are you?” He failed to make that sound like he was joking.
“Why don’t we do what we’re supposed to be doing?”
“Pray?”
“Yes. But let’s not waste our magic candle on it.”
Hecht did pray for the first time in a long time. He felt self-conscious. As luck or a clever Shining One would have it, Archbishop Brion and several ecclesiastical henchmen caught them in the act of the chaste nonevent. And were disappointed. Could it be that Lord Arnmigal and the Empress were more devout when they did not know they had an audience?
The Grand Duke of Arnmigal won a serious victory because of an impulse and a bad mood but never knew it.
* * *
Titus observed, “You’re not yourself this morning.”
Puzzled, Hecht asked, “How so?”
“You look like you got a good night’s sleep.”
“I did. I prayed last night and it seemed the Lord lifted a huge weight off me.”
“What?”
“It came to me while I was in front of the altar. I haven’t been trusting God. I’ve driven myself, and you all, to our limits because I couldn’t trust in Him. He touched me last night. He reminded me that we can’t do this without Him. I built the machine in His name. I should put the machine into His hands.”
Consent stood there with jaw dropped. “You really mean that.”
“Yes.”
“If prayer at Saint Miniver, Martyr, can relax you this much, I need to get over there myself.”
“Too late. You’ll be doing something else. I told de Bos and Vircondelet to cover for you for two days.”
“Two days? Why? Especially now?”
“You and I are going on a wonderful and terrifying journey.”
Cloven Februaren turned sideways and materialized. Consent gaped as the old man hustled away from the center of the room.
Lila and Vali twisted into being where Februaren had been, holding hands. Giggling, they scattered.
Heris appeared. She dropped several inches, cursing. She was not in a good mood. “This better be worth my trouble, little brother.”
Hecht told Consent, “Come over here, Titus. Stand back to back with me. Family?”
Heris asked, “Sure you want to do this, Piper?”
“Want to, no. Need to, yes. Titus needs to. In a few days we’ll be off on a quest that isn’t likely to forgive us. I need to … Titus…”
“You’re so full of shit. Let’s do this, family.”
Heris, the girls, and Cloven Februaren crushed in. Hecht’s last frightened thought was, Darkness always comes, as darkness descended.
28. Khaurene: New Blood
The journey took longer than expected. Brother Candle proved less able to endure the hardships than he had foreseen, though mostly he rode in a wagon. Too, there were delays because people everywhere wanted to see the Countess who was one of the saviors of the province.
The adulation troubled Socia. “The more they applaud me now the more they’ll be disappointed later.”
Brother Candle said, “You will have a hard time being the legend they need.”
“I don’t want to be a legend.” She met his gaze briefly. “All right. I don’t mind being a legend. I just don’t want to put in the work.”
“Those who take the easy road become the legendary bad lords.”
“You can be so frustrating.”
“I know. I frustrate myself sometimes. But look on the bright side. I won’t be a plague on your house much longer.”
“What? You’ll outlive me. You’re too righteous to die.”
“I did not mention dying. Though even a Perfect must someday stand before the Good God and make his accounting.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s possible that I don’t, either. With this journey beating me down this way, a worse journey would be insane. But I begin to feel the call.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s enough for now, darling girl. Before anything else I have to see you through this, then safely through the travails of becoming the guardian of the new Duke. Only after that can I consider what to do to benefit my soul and the Light.”
The company reached Castreresone while the light splashed its walls to the most flattering effect. It was obvious why it was called the White City.
Scaffolding clung to those walls in a dozen places. The Berg and Inconje were being rebuilt. The magnates, encouraged by Queen Isabeth, were being particularly energetic.
The White City was filled with talk about being ready next time Arnhand came.