Hecht shut the door.
“They’re worried about you.”
“They’re more worried about themselves. They watch me close because they think that I died and came back to life.”
“You did. But you weren’t possessed by the Night. We kept all that at bay.”
“I did? I died?”
“I thought you understood that.”
“I… No. I thought…”
“Don’t you go getting silly, too. There’s nothing different about you. A lot of people have been gone much longer than you were. They came back untouched. Will you still be here tomorrow night?”
“Probably. I don’t have the manpower to take this much farther. An unexpected diplomatic success could change things, though.”
“See you tomorrow night, then.”
An unexpected diplomatic success occurred. The high roads of Firaldia swarmed with messengers, Imperial and Patriarchal. On the Imperial side the news they carried was good. The nearest Imperial cities quickly affirmed their support for the Empress. Several nearby Patriarchal dependents volunteered to stay out of the squabble. “Promises written on air,” Titus Consent observed. “They’ll turn on us if Serenity has any success.”
“Of course. That’s Firaldian politics. They’ll never change.”
“Unless a strongman comes along and ends it.”
“Someone strong and long-lived. Johannes might have managed if he’d survived al-Khazen.”
Consent shrugged. “He did, we’d be on the other side, here.”
“No doubt.”
“I’m thinking Johannes’s offspring might have what it takes, too. If it interests them. If they have the drive.”
“Meaning?”
“Katrin and Helspeth are both capable of making the tough decisions. And their people seem accustomed to the idea of a female monarch, now. But the Empress doesn’t seem to have the commitment.”
“Uhm?”
“She’s changeable, boss. We could be knocking on the gates of Brothe and she’d get distracted by some ephemeral ambition somewhere else.”
“She’ll be constant till she’s shoved Serenity against a wall and made him explain why her special guy is no longer among the living.”
“You’re enjoying the hell out of this, aren’t you?”
“Titus?”
“You’ve changed since the Empress changed her mind about Serenity and the Church. You’re happy about it. Even though we’re likely to end up having to face friends we campaigned with before.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Titus. I hope we can give Katrin what she wants before Pinkus can disengage in the Connec.” Word from that direction had the Captain-General facing serious difficulties. Serenity had few friends in the eastern Connec. Count Raymone Garete and his Countess had harvested the crop.
Hecht did think that Serenity would scream like a scared little girl when he understood what was headed his way. He was very much the product of his past.
His Plemenzan captivity had not been harsh. It was just time taken out of his life. But torments he had suffered earlier in the Connec remained tattooed on his soul. Never again would he allow himself to be at the mercy of another.
Failure, defeat, surrender, captivity, none were acceptable options. Unless God deserted him completely.
Hecht desperately hoped to see Heris again. The more he eyed the chances of success the more worried he became for Anna and the children.
There was an ancient saying: “Children are hostages to Fortune.” And, unhappily, any other asshole who could lay hands on.
A grimly weary Heris turned sideways, into being, seconds after Kait Rhuk and Drago Prosek left Hecht. She grumbled, “I know. I can sleep after I’m dead.”
“You can’t tell if there’s somebody here before you do that, can you?”
“Sometimes. Mostly not. I can halfway arrive and keep from being seen if I’m rested enough.”
“You missed popping in between Rhuk and Prosek by five seconds.”
“That would’ve been embarrassing.”
“You think?”
“Worried about them finding out?”
“Absolutely. About anyone finding out. We have a huge advantage as long as nobody knows. We lose that fast as soon as they do.”
“Get one of those folding screen things to drag around with you. Wherever you set up shop, put it in a corner so I can pop in behind it. That way I can get away again without anyone seeing if you’ve got somebody with you.”
“That might work. What do you have for me?”
“You don’t have a social life, do you?”
“What?”
“I know. All business, all the time. Saves having to deal with stuff. Story of my life, too.”
Hecht was confused. This was not the Heris of his experience. “You’re hanging around with the Ninth Unknown too much. You’re turning into another him.”
“I am a bad girl, little brother.”
Heris proceeded with a long report, some of it not very interesting. Since her last visit she had been a fly on the wall in a dozen venues, including Krois in Brothe, Pinkus Ghort’s camp a dozen miles above Antieux, Alten Weinberg’s Winterhall, Hochwasser, and even briefly in Salpeno, where Anna of Menand was ecstatic about the deaths of kings at Khaurene. There was panic in Krois and elation in Alten Weinberg because Katrin had come back to her father’s path. There was crippling indecision in Ghort’s camp. Pinkus himself was willing to carry out orders but he was up to his ears in legates, envoys, Society angels, and other pests, all of whom insisted on telling him what to do.
Though the news about the Empress was fresh, levies had been assembling at Hochwasser for weeks, according to annual custom. Those forces were in motion already, according to a marching plan laid down in the reign of Johannes II. That plan was no secret. Once through the Jagos the Imperial main force would advance down the West Way toward Brothe. Resistance would arise mainly at river crossings.
Thus it had been with invasions and defenses for two thousand years. Thus it would go. Geography dictated it.
“Nothing remarkable there,” Hecht said. “And though they’ll make a lot of racket, they won’t move with any vigor. How close to Serenity did you get? What’s his plan?”
“Close enough to sit on his lap. If I wanted. Close enough to blow hot air down the back of his neck. Close enough to convince him that his favorite wing of Krois is haunted by Ostarega the Malicious and Ostarega doesn’t love him.”
“Ostarega the Malicious?”
“One of the early Bad Patriarchs. His reign name was Clement. The Second. He was awful. God had the Collegium bend him over a wine cask and hurry him on to Paradise by impaling him with a white-hot iron rod. So there would be no blood spilled.”
“Strangling or drowning would’ve worked.”
“That wouldn’t have made a strong enough point. It was personal.”
“I guess so. Serenity’s plans?”
“The reason I keep him jumping. The haunted wing of Krois is where the good quiet rooms are.”
Hecht controlled his impatience. If he barked too loud Heris might just go away. So he said, “Good
