it’s never her fault… That goes with the territory, too, some. Right?”
“Most of the time.”
“Here’s the problem. She’s into one of her downward spirals. It might be the worst since the Prince was stillborn. We’ve tried the usual gimmicks. I’ve worn my butt out taking her riding. That works better than anything. She loves a good gallop. Not this time, though. I’m scared she’ll do something to damage or embarrass herself.”
“What can I do?”
“I don’t know. She won’t listen to me when she isn’t out of her head. She does listen to you, sometimes.”
“Really? I must have missed that.”
“I did say sometimes.”
“An odd duck, our Empress.”
“She’s more like a frightened girl. She lets childish emotions drive her. These black moods… They keep getting worse. She could cause problems we’ll never get over. Something bigger than invading a friendly empire or declaring war on the Church.”
Interesting. “We aren’t at war with the Church, Captain. We’re at war with Serenity. That might sound like a minor distinction but the difference is critical.”
“Serenity believes he is the Church.”
“A common flaw of Patriarchs. What would you have me do with our flawed mistress? I’m a hired sword who’s overstepped his bounds already.”
“I don’t know. I said she listens to you sometimes. I hoped you’d have some inspiration.”
“Captain, I’m not that imaginative. The magical way to make everything right got past me. I wish she’d lasted a little longer. Mid-campaign is a bad time for your employer to lose her mind.”
“Just be warned. She might turn strange.”
“I’ll think about it. I promise. Now, I do have an order of march to ready.”
Ephrian made a face but said nothing. He knew that in no practical sense could the Righteous attack Brothe. The city was too big. And even an unpopular Patriarch had vast resources.
He had found seventeen thousand men willing to go into the Shades.
Hecht really just wanted to become a presence that dared not be ignored while the might of the Empire gathered. He wanted to become a symbol to all Brothens currently disgruntled with their Patriarch. A hope in the mist.
The heavy lifting would be done by armies from beyond the Jagos.
There were skirmishes all across Firaldia. Whatever the feudal obligation of a given city, principality, or kingdom, some citizens or subjects held the opposing view and were determined to regularize their polity’s status. Riots were not uncommon, even in the Mother City, where a frightened city senate voted a huge new subsidy for the City Regiment.
Years of parsimony had left that force little more than symbolic.
The Righteous engaged in skirmishes. Serenity did have his supporters. But, after the Shades, few could find soldiers willing to face the Righteous.
Superstitious folk convinced themselves that Empress Katrin and her Commander of the Righteous had used sorcery. The Shades had seen the worst day’s butchery in Firaldia since the collapse of the Old Empire. Those who knew better, survivors of the battle, told everyone that there had been no sorcery at all. And that, where it was believed, scared thinking people more than did babble about sorcery.
Use of massed machines of destruction was especially frightening. Falcons took the skill and honor out of combat. Which really meant the highborn recognized that they would be at as much risk as, and therefore of no more value than, the lowest, poorest, mallet-armed churl.
Falcons did not care who your father was. Falcons did not take the well-born for ransom. Worse, falcons could be manned by any illiterate peasant’s son after just a few hours of training.
Such an engine had to have sprung from the dark mind of the Adversary.
The Righteous were on the move when word came that the Patriarch, supported by his dwindling faction in the Collegium, had issued a bull declaring firepowder weapons the work of the Adversary. No true Chaldarean would employ them. All firepowder weapons were to be destroyed immediately.
Hecht was up with the van as it approached the Bruglioni estate southeast of Brothe. The messenger missed him. When he got back to his staff he found them mocking the Patriarch. “What’s going on?”
“Listen to this.” Rivademar Vircondelet read the bull.
Titus Consent said, “Right now, throughout the Chaldarean world, men cursed by possession of these organs of evil are rushing out to ignore Serenity completely. Instead, having heard about the Shades, they’ll try to find a supplier who isn’t Krulik and Sneigon.”
“No doubt. That’s human nature.” Other Patriarchs had tried to ban weapons, too. Those remained in common use.
The Commander of the Righteous and several lieutenants, fiercely uncomfortable about the Empress tagging along, entered the Bruglioni villa. That was a classical collection of limestone pillars and red tile roofs squatting on a ridge in wine country, near enough to Brothe for the filthy air over the city to be seen. Parts of the villa dated to Old Empire times. The Bruglioni claimed it had been built by one of the Imperial families before the time of Aaron of Chaldar. It had figured in several major historical events. Paludan grumbled, “And it looks like the old hovel is going to get to do that again.”
Paludan was in a wheeled chair, his destiny for however long he survived. The masters of healing magic could do no more than control his pain. Gervase Saluda also remained confined to a wheelchair but did have hopes of walking again, given an artificial leg. Saluda said, “I hear tell that no good deed goes unpunished. I guess this is our punishment for letting the Arniena talk us into giving you work, back when.”
“You’re right. But you did get your money’s worth. This is just Katrin’s way of putting her mark on you.”
All the representatives of the Five Families who had sneaked out to the Shades were now visiting the Bruglioni estate. Serenity should soon have reports about them.
“We aren’t looking for a fight here,” Hecht said. “We just want to fuel the fire of unrest. We pose a bigger problem sitting here not fighting than we would by getting into something we’d probably lose.”
Hecht had realized that a falcon-heavy force could not be an aggressive or agile force. It had its best luck when doing what it had in the Shades. It was a defensive force.
With all the reinforcements of recent days Hecht’s force still numbered fewer than a thousand. A thousand veterans employed in most Firaldian squabbles would be considered huge, but in this contest, against this opponent, no.
To the consternation of Paludan and Saluda alike Hecht prepared defenses for the estate. Rhuk and Prosek sited weapons so raiders would regret getting too close. Sedlakova and Consent roamed the countryside in search of creek beds where rounded pebbles of an appropriate size and hardness could be harvested. They also sought loamy soil that could be used to fill the empty spaces between stones in a charge.
Rivademar Vircondelet led mounted patrols toward the Mother City so watchers could see actual Imperial banners close by.
Serenity closed the nearer gates and did not contest their presence.
Cloven Februaren wakened Hecht deep in the night. Lila had accompanied him, shyly proud that she had enough grasp of the Construct to make the twisted journey. She kept quiet. No doubt she had orders to keep her mouth shut.
The Ninth Unknown whispered, “Serenity has lost it, Piper. He has squads roaming Brothe, arresting anybody he fancies. The Castella shut its gates. The Five Families are forting up because he attacked the Bruglioni citadel yesterday. What’s left of it.”
“Gervase and Paludan won’t be happy.” Though their property was an indefensible ruin, anyway.
“And less so after they hear that a dozen deaths were involved. Their people resisted.”
He watched Lila rove around slowly, almost a wraith. “Anna needs to get some food into that girl.”
