Gaitor said, “So when you hailed us you was really hoping you could con us into looking out for you on the road to Antieux.”
“I did have thoughts along those lines. Yes.”
“I don’t want to do it. We was just starting to fit in here. But after so many people seen us talking to you, with you being known for working for Count Raymone, I guess we ought to go away for a while. Let suspicions die down.”
“Your generosity…”
“Master, we owe you. Much as I wish we never ran into you. We couldn’t have got through last winter. It won’t take long, anyway. The roads are safe between here and Antieux. Them bandits who wouldn’t learn have been hunted out.”
Something came up between Gartner and Kedle. Sharp words. But the woman did not grab her spear.
Brother Candle warned, “Take care with Alazais. She’s volatile.”
“I noticed. Master, if we’re gonna travel together I need time to get ready. Can you wait till tomorrow?”
“If I must, I must.”
“At the end of the bridge at sunrise, then.”
Brother Candle inclined his head in acknowledgment. He went to speak soothing words to Kedle’s donkey. The poor, put-upon beast.
There were a few changes of heart. Kedle’s parents and her cousins Guillemette and Escamerole, plus Scarre the baker and his wife. Seven companions, obviously prosperous, of whom three were nubile women. Two probably virgins. How could Gaitor and Geis resist? The Perfect needed to forge an alliance with slow but essentially honorable Gartner.
Or, maybe not. Kedle equipped her cousins with several edged weapons apiece.
The bandits turned spies were waiting as promised. They were mounted. Not on the best of steeds, but mounted nonetheless. Gaitor asked, “How come there’s a bunch more?”
Brother Candle said, “They changed their minds.”
“They don’t look like much. All heretics, right?”
“True. But I’m the only one who isn’t a fighter.”
“Lot of women and old folks.”
“You can just say the hell with us.”
“I could. But then I wouldn’t have no excuse to go see my family, would I? What’s that?”
Some sort of disturbance had broken out across the Laur. It involved a lot of shouting and a few cheers. It did not sound like a riot.
Brother Candle said, “We’re ready to go but we might find out what that’s about. In case it affects us.”
Gaitor scowled. “You do something? Got the garrison after you?” There were people coming down from the White City. A Navayan garrison still quartered there.
“Not us. Unless the Society took over since we got up this morning.”
“Then it must be news. Big news.” He gestured at his brother Geis, indicating that he should investigate.
The rest started walking.
“How dangerous is this likely to get?” Raulet Archimbault asked. He was terrified on behalf of his grandchildren.
Gaitor said, “Shouldn’t be no trouble till we get close to Antieux. Count Raymone hunts down brigands who won’t join him. He’s quite stern. He’s more interested in stamping out banditry than in scrapping with the Captain- General. But Patriarchal patrols might be a problem near to Antieux.”
Archimbault said, “This new Captain-General doesn’t seem as vigorous as the old one.”
“There’s some of that,” Gaitor conceded. “Mostly he’s ineffective because of the Patriarch, though. Serenity has buried him in incompetents and people pushing their own agendas. He can’t get anything done on account of, no matter what he tries, somebody gets pissed off and wants him to do something else.”
“Good for us, then.”
“Exactly. The hard truth is, Pinkus Ghort would be worse than Piper Hecht if everybody backed off and let him.”
Geis did not catch up for two hours. Gaitor kept a good pace. When he did arrive Geis went to whisper with his brothers.
Kedle took station beside the cart where her weapons were stashed.
Gaitor announced, “Folks, there’s been a big shift in the world order. The Grail Empress has gone to war against the Patriarch. She blames him for the death of her husband, Jaime of Castauriga. She’s in Firaldia already, with the former Captain-General. I wouldn’t want to be in the Patriarch’s shoes right now.”
Brother Candle received that news with less joy than did the others. He knew such things became exaggerated. Likely the news would go through several serious transmutations before curdling into its historical form, which was sure to be its least dramatic shape.
Even in a tepid form, though, this was good news for the Connec. The Patriarchal forces harassing Count Raymone would have to be recalled. Faced with the wrath of the Grail Empire Serenity would have neither a man nor a ducat to spare for anything but self-defense.
The travelers reached country where Patriarchal troops had expressed their displeasure with Count Raymone.
Word was, the Captain-General’s initial instructions had been for Ghort to remain in place and waste the countryside. Then he had been directed to launch an all-out attack on Antieux. He refused. That would waste his soldiers’ lives. Given no other option, though, he had attacked, achieving the predicted results. His force had been decimated. It never came close to succeeding.
Then Serenity ordered the Captain-General back to Brothe, fast, collecting the full feudal levy of every Patriarchal State along the way. He was to accept no excuses and make no exceptions.
“Desperation,” Brother Candle said.
Gaitor agreed. “Sounds like Serenity’s fortunes went into the shitter, fast.”
Brother Candle saw what Count Raymone would surely see. An opportunity granted by God Himself. A respite while Serenity fought for his life. A chance to throw light into the nooks and crannies where Society vermin hid and bred.
Briefly, Brother Candle wondered what kind of noble Raymone would have made had he lived in a peaceful age.
News from farther east became the subject of so much speculation that time just flew. There were no adventures other than a brush with a band of Society brothers fleeing retribution. They lacked the courage of their convictions that morning.
Brother Candle saved their lives. He talked Gaitor into letting them go. “Ye reap what ye sow.”
Kedle responded, “What we’ll reap is rats bred up a hundredfold. Remember those faces, old man. See if they aren’t in the mob that ties you to the stake someday.”
“Blood drinker, that one,” Geis whispered.
Brother Candle nodded. And could not shake the truth underlying what Kedle said. Someone would pay for his kindness.
A patrol from Antieux found them ten miles west of the city. The soldiers had heard of Brother Candle. They formed an escort and sent a rider ahead to report the coming of an important messenger.
Count Raymone was away harassing stragglers from the Patriarchal force, Society fugitives, and brigands. His prey often fit multiple categories. Socia, though, was in the city, busy being pregnant. She came out to meet Brother Candle. She was as effusive and excited as if he were her own father. Her pregnancy had begun to show. She was sensitive about that. She had dressed to make it less obvious.
She asked, “You’re carrying communications from the Queen?”
“I am,” Brother Candle replied.
