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Hecht said, “I don’t know the geography or mythology but it sounds like he’s up to the same mischief he was into in the Connec and on Artecipea.” He glanced at Hourli. She shrugged.

Hauf said, “Asher was a primal Instrumentality of the region. Typically, all blood and thunder. He could be the father of the God of the Dainshaukin.”

“Wow. That’s scary.”

“Madouc is concerned. So am I. You may have to deal with other players once you get there.”

Hecht glanced at Hourli again. “It’s always that way. Nothing is ever straightforward and simple.” The Shining One had nothing to contribute. “Is that really what you wanted to see me about?”

“Mostly.”

Hecht wanted to find out how Hauf had been alerted to his presence in Brothe. But that was a task better left to the Shining Ones.

“So. I’m glad Madouc is doing well. Master of the Commandery? Who died?”

“The Brotherhood created a new commandery in order to keep a villain named Rogert du Tancret from having the final say at Gherig.”

“We squabbled all the time when Madouc was my chief lifeguard. He took his work dead serious and there was no flex in him.”

“I wish the Brotherhood had a thousand more like him.”

“Pity the world.”

Hauf smiled weakly. “One thing further. In the nature of a personal favor. Take Redfearn Bechter’s effects with you. They’re yours, by bequest, but the Brotherhood hopes you will honor one of its greatest by allowing his few things to be laid down in the soil of the lands to which he dedicated his early life.”

“That seems reasonable.” Hecht flushed slightly. Bechter’s little chest was somewhere in the baggage that followed him around but he had not thought of it in months. He had given up trying to solve the puzzle or message the chest represented.

Hauf flashed a squinty look of appraisal, suspecting that Hecht had forgotten. “Thank you. In time, success permitting, we’ll move his bones to the Holy Lands, too.”

The exchange baffled the others. Hecht said, “I wish we could talk more. Bechter was dear to me but I never got to know him well.”

“He was one of the few who survived the Well of Days. That was so harsh the Brotherhood sent the survivors west. They were oppressed by guilt because they had survived. They were unlikely to stand up to another hard fight.”

Redfearn Bechter never showed any weakness while serving the Captain-General. But he had not been called on to face Indala al-Sul Halaladin, either.

Hecht said, “We need to be sociable.” He announced, “We’re discussing a mutual friend, Redfearn Bechter, who was with me during the Connecten campaigns.”

That helped. Some. Some recalled the sergeant.

Hecht told Hauf, “I hope I run into Madouc early. He should be able to tell me everything I need…”

Hourli’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Hecht understood that she wanted a private moment. “I need to step out for some air. I’ll be right back.” He followed Hourli.

A breeze had come up. It had turned cold. Dust and trash hurtled around. “Going to rain,” the Instrumentality said. “Maybe hard.”

“Maybe. What is it?”

“The soldier priest knew you were here because he has a brace of sorcerers hidden in his fortress. They couldn’t tell how you arrived but they knew you had, within minutes.”

“Sorcerers? Not good for a man in his position.”

“His intentions are pure.”

“Aren’t they always?”

“The Night twists men who use it to their own ends.”

“Personal warning?”

“If it fits. There is another matter. The eternal monster beneath the city has arisen again. We annihilated it but it won’t stay annihilated. The people of Brothe must have their diabolical duke of darkness.”

“That’s good. Thank you.”

“You’re wasting time here. Go back to Alten Weinberg.”

Hecht glared, yet saw nothing to suggest that she meant more than what she said.

“You’re right. This was an emotional pilgrimage. It may not have been necessary.”

“We should get back inside.”

“Right again.”

“I’m a goddess. I’m always right.”

“In your own mind.” He rejoined the company thinking he was sadly underutilizing his supernatural allies.

He announced, “People, this has been as much a farewell as a celebration for me. I don’t feel good about my prospects. I do expect the Enterprise to achieve great things. It will shape the world in countless ways, some of them unexpected. But … I do have that bad feeling. Now … it’s time to say good-bye. Noë, don’t cry. Titus will come through fine, probably sainted.”

Hecht gathered his flock. Consent did the same, though baffled. He whispered, “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a feeling. We may have committed more than the obvious error by making a sentimental visit.”

Paludan Bruglioni and Addam Hauf seemed thoroughly confused.

Hourli closed in on Bruglioni. She did not identify herself. She spoke softly and quickly, delivering information the Patriarch could use to consolidate his hold on the Church.

Then she told Hauf, “So long as you keep your hidden sorcerers the darkness beneath Brothe will return to life again and again.”

The Master of the Commandery wanted to ask questions. He chewed on air. Hourli walked out. Hauf went after her. He found no sign outside that she had been anything but a shard of imagination.

He did glimpse a winged thing atop a triumphal column where no figure ought to be.

* * *

The drama had Anna in tears. Noë and her brood had been taken home. Heris and the girls, and Cloven Februaren, crowded around Piper and Titus. Those two faced one another, by Titus’s choice. Piper tried to break the tension with an uncharacteristic wisecrack.

The human ball rotated out of existence. Air whooshed in to replace it.

Anna wondered if she would ever see Piper again.

* * *

Hecht wakened confused and groggy. He did not know where he was and was not entirely sure who. He was alone but that lasted only moments.

Rivademar Vircondelet shoved into the room. A team followed. One man carried a tray with bread, tea, and soup. A barber and a tailor followed. Two boys lugged a big copper tub. Other boys carried a carpet for the tub to stand on. Yet another carried towels, soap, and fragrances.

Vircondelet said, “Lieutenant Consent said you were ill.”

Hecht heard an unspoken, wary, “Again.”

“Bathwater should get here about the time you finish eating.”

Hecht punched himself on the side of the head. “I had the most bizarre dream. It seemed so real.”

“Yes?” With genuine interest.

“It was one of those ones that you know can’t be true but is still so strong you can’t ever quite convince yourself that it wasn’t.”

“Never had one of those. Except when I was four or five I dreamed there were two moons. I argued with my parents about it for days.”

“How long?” Hecht asked. “I mean, this.”

“Six hours since Consent said there was something wrong. You were running a fever. You talked but you didn’t make sense.”

“Where is Titus?”

“Getting ready to travel. It’ll be sunrise in an hour. You wanted to hit the road today.”

“Don’t look like that’s going to happen.” He felt drained. The confusion would not go away. He rubbed his forehead and scalp with his left hand. “Titus makes mountains out of molehills.”

“You’re not sick?”

“I’m just bone tired. Let’s get on with this. Maybe we can move out today.”

“The Empress wants to see you.”

“Oh. Sure. So much for heading out today.”

* * *

Helspeth was not pleased. “Have I grown tedious already, Lord Arnmigal?”

Lady Hilda’s expression was strained. She did not flirt when she brought coffee.

They three were alone in the quiet room.

“Your Grace?”

“You haven’t been to evening prayers since you came back.”

He had not. And had not thought of it, either. “I was unconscious.” Would she be unreasonable?