to watch over him. He was still alive at the moment of her own demise.”
“That should narrow the search. There can’t be many men who have been around longer than you and who show the occasional burst of divine power. He would have some of that, wouldn’t he?”
“Excellent, Piper. He would, yes. But, chances are, he doesn’t know what he is. His mother never told him. He never saw her. He should think he’s just a very strange orphan.”
Principat? Delari interjected, “He’d have to suspect. If he had any familiarity with the mythology. If you grew up in that part of the world, were an orphan, had unusual abilities, and seemed to be immortal, wouldn’t you suspect something?”
“Of course, Muno. As far as I know-the Arlensul part of the ascendant isn’t completely forthcoming-the bastard should be a long-lived peasant or woodcutter somewhere in the northeastern part of the Grail Empire. The infant was abandoned in the sacristy of a forest church in the Harlz Mountains of Marhorva, a hundred miles from Grumbrag.”
Anna asked, “Could he be the one pretending to be Piper’s brother?”
Cloven Februaren chuckled, made a sign indicating that subject ought not to be pursued. Hecht asked, “And you know all this because?”
“Because the ascendant knows most of what the mother knew. Though she couldn’t provide any help locating him today. Or wouldn’t.”
“Meaning?”
“Even in severely reduced circumstances the Banished’s personality is still alive and independent. A tiny fraction, but the essence of who and what she was.”
Delari said, “Easy work now, Grandfather. Just pop up to that rustic church and work your way out in a spiral search, asking each man you meet if he’s four hundred years old. When you get an affirmative, you’ve found your half-blood god.”
“An ingenious strategy, Muno. Piper, the boy always did have a knack for slashing through the fog around the core. Though I have in mind a simpler, faster methodology.”
Anna offered, “A man who’s been around that long did things to hide his age. If he didn’t he’d have every aging petty lord after his secret.”
“Or people would want to drive stakes through his heart,” Heris suggested.
Hecht asked, “Could he be the source of vampire legends?”
The Ninth Unknown replied, “Vampires are the source of vampire legends. Things of the Night with a taste for blood.” Februaren pointed at Anna. “The young lady is as smart as she is beautiful. No. I daren’t say that. That would declare her a goddess. Let’s just stipulate that she’s smart. Concealing his longevity would be a serious problem.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, sir.”
“I wish. Piper? You look like you just bit into an unexpected pit. If my wordplay offends you, tell me to go to hell. I’ll take it back.”
“So, go to hell, old man.” He chuckled. “No. You just stated the facts. She is all that. But I had a thought. A place to start looking. That doesn’t force you to go all the way back to a church that probably doesn’t exist anymore.” He laid his finger across his lips. He did not want to carry on here. The old men were hamming it up for eavesdroppers, be they shadow or human. Every household had a servant or relation who did not mind picking up the occasional extra ducat by contributing to the informational black market.
Principat? Delari, “We’ll talk about it over coffee, then. Now, children, you’ve been quiet as snakes. Why don’t you girls tell me about the Gray Friars? And Pella can tell me about his adventures with Piper. They tell me you’ve fallen in love with the falcons, lad.”
Encouraged, coaxed, the children came forward with a few details of their own lives. Bits innocuous enough to be shared with the old folks.
Heris stood. She had eaten rapidly and heartily. “I’m full. I’ll go help Cook get the coffee service ready.”
The youngsters soon talked themselves out. Hecht told Februaren, “Regale them with tales of your adventures in the lands of the gods.” Pella, at least, should be interested in a fairy-tale realm that was mostly real.
The Ninth Unknown did regale, employing outrageous exaggerations, sounds, and distinct voices for his characters. He made Korban Jarneyn sound like a dimwit old gorilla. Even Hecht enjoyed the show.
“I hope you were just trying to make your ordeal more entertaining,” Hecht told Februaren as he accepted coffee from Heris.
“I took some of the grim out, so they wouldn’t be too upset, but that was the way it was. They ate the shark, too.”
Principat? Delari wondered aloud, “Why do I find myself doubting you, Grandfather?”
“Because you’re such a tightass, Muno. You always were. You don’t have an ounce of wonder in your soul.”
“Likely not. I’ve always been too busy picking up after you and trying to hold it all together.”
Heris snapped, “Will you old people stop? Piper had a reason for wanting to talk in here. Since you were so blatant about that burlesque downstairs. Get on with it. Before us being hidden has your spies wondering what’s really going on.”
“She’s right.” Februaren sighed. “And I was just getting warmed up. Definitely a chunk off the Grade Drocker block. Looks like he did at the same age, too.”
“Stop!” Hecht growled. “That’s enough. Cloven Februaren. You said you had a plan for rooting out the missing bastard, fast. What is it? Tell us, then I’ll explain why I wanted us all in here.”
“Another chunk off the Drocker rock. No patience. All right, Piper. The scheme is simplicity itself. The new Patriarch, our beloved Bronte Doneto who happens to be the most powerful sorcerer to assume the ermine in two centuries, has his Instrumentality minions all over you and Muno. I let them hear all sorts of intriguing stuff downstairs. As a result, a very nervous Serenity ought to unleash the whole power of the Church on the problem of Arlensul’s bastard.”
“Why? He shouldn’t really care.”
“Wrong. Well, maybe if he knew the whole story. What he’s been allowed to know will compel him to care.”
“Do take the trouble to explain.”
“Key point. He’s just found out that I’m still alive. That will rattle him badly. At the same time he’ll learn that there’s absolute, concrete proof that his religious vision remains incompletely triumphant. That the Old Ones, while no longer seen, are still alive. They survive in the imaginations of hundreds of thousands of rural people who attend church on all the appropriate days, then hedge their bets by following the ancient rituals when those are due. More, the Old Ones will need to be awakened and strengthened if the world isn’t to be crushed beneath the hooves of even older and darker Instrumentalities.”
Hecht said, “You may have lost me. I understand every sentence. Individually. But how do they all connect up in a way that helps us find our missing half-god?”
“Blood simple, Piper. Blood simple. Listen to what I say. I scare the crap out of Serenity by being alive. I terrify him by being eager to find Arlensul’s pup. He’s already scared Muno will make his life difficult. So he panics. And deploys all the resources of the Church to find our man for me.”
“Clever. But you might have outsmarted yourself. Look. The reason I wanted to talk in here is so I could tell you to look at Ferris Renfrow. We tried to investigate him when we were in Alten Weinberg. We didn’t find much but some odd facts did surface.”
“Such as?”
“He wasn’t well known before Johannes but somebody with the same name has been connected with most of the Emperors since the Grail Empire was founded. Today’s Ferris Renfrow claims all those other Renfrows are his ancestors. But we couldn’t find anybody who ever heard of any of the Renfrows being married. Or otherwise involved with any human being, male or female.”
“That would be unusual.”
“He does odd things, too.” Hecht repeated what he had heard about Renfrow presenting an apparent eyewitness account of the Battle of Los Naves de los Fantas to Empress Katrin the evening of the battle.
