Foreigners came seeking their fortunes. Many of them had been villains in their own climes. And Brothe boasted a vigorous religion and pilgrim industry. Else found that amazing. Thousands came every month just to see the Church's central physical institutions, and in hopes of glimpsing the Patriarch.
During his stay with the Arniena, Else participated in two minor adventures with Rogoz Sayag and other family retainers. Salny Sayag said the orders came from Don Inigo Arniena himself. Don Inigo was the family chieftain. Neither mission amounted to much. Punishing a servant who had stolen from the Arniena. Avenging an insult flung at one of the don's granddaughters by a gang of street kids who had been stupid enough to open their mouths outside their hideout.
Those jobs did give Else a chance to be seen in the company of other Arniena goons.
“This all you do?' Else asked Rogoz.
'Don Inigo isn't big on squabbling. Unlike everyone else in Brothe.'
'Uhm?”
'It seems the more chaotic things get, the more some people use that to cover their own mischief. Which only makes the chaos worse. The don would rather do it the sneaky, sinister way.'
Else went along and showed he could be part of the team. He needed only be mildly evasive about his past. Rogoz Sayag was not eager to reveal his own background. Possibly Rogoz had not spent much time in the countries where he was supposed to have learned his trade. In lands where he might have crossed paths with a freelancer from Duarnenia, that little state on the eastern shore of the Shallow Sea.
Few mercenaries talked about their pasts. Somewhere behind them, in most cases, were people with grudges. Bad choices made at an early age were why freelancers left home in the first place.
While public order in Brothe deteriorated, the broader, world situation lent the Patriarch no comfort, either. Calziran pirates grew more numerous and bolder by the day. A sort of mob madness had taken possession of them. Their worst raids fell on Church or Benedocto family holdings, always within the bounds of the Episcopal States. There was hardly a rumor of piracy along the coasts of Alameddine. That kingdom, beholden to the Grail Empire, lay between Calzir and the Episcopal States. Nor did raiders appear anywhere else protected by the Grail Emperor or the mercantile republics.
Even dimwits who cared little about distant events began to think there was a conspiracy. Johannes Blackboots must be behind it all.
In Brothe everything was part of a plot. In Brothe nothing was what it seemed, or even what it purported to be. Whatever went wrong did so because of an inimical conspiracy.
Else suspected that any plot involving Praman pirates would be orchestrated from al-Qarn rather than the Grail Empire.
Anything that distracted Sublime from a crusade into me Holy Lands would be a good thing, from the Dreangerean point of view. Any delay moved the man that many weeks, months, or years closer to his blessed elevation into the Chaldarean heaven. Whereupon the beleaguered and long-suffering Collegium would, undoubtedly, replace him with someone less controversial, bellicose, and ambitious.
On Else's ninth day with the Arniena, Rogoz Sayag appeared as he was teaching three Arniena boys exercises that would improve their stamina against the day they got involved in a duel. 'Remember. When two fighters of equal skill meet, the one whose strength lasts longest will be the survivor.' He used 'survivor' rather man 'victor' deliberately.
'Good lesson for them to learn, Hecht.' Sayag got it.
'When they're young they think only the other guy is mortal. These boys listen, though. That's good.'
Rogoz said, 'You've done this before. They do pay attention.'
'They're good kids. The main thing I want to get through to them is that half the people who get into duels lose.'
'Definitely a difficult lesson. My father wants you. The Don has arranged a meeting with Paludan Bruglioni.'
Else grunted. 'Soon?'
“Tonight, I think. Not thrilled?'
'Not only am I old enough to know that half the people who get into duels lose, I'm old enough to know that, no matter how good you are, there's always somebody better.' Else told the Arniena boys to knock off for the day.
'I'm not sure I follow all of that but I'll take your word for it.'
Salny Sayag suggested, 'Take a chair, Hecht.' Else no longer found that western affectation awkward. The old man said, 'I've talked you up to Paludan Bruglioni. He'll put on a show of reluctance but he's eager to take on someone like you. Which should work out well for you. All you have to do is look like you're what he wants you to be.'
Else grunted, then said, 'There's been a couple things bothering me. One is, why would a family the size of the Bruglioni need to bring in outside help? They lost a couple of important sons but I can't see that weakening them to the point where…'
'But it did. You're correct. There're a lot of Bruglionis. And every Bruglioni gets away from Brothe as soon as he can. Paludan is a difficult man. He's consumed by hatred. He keeps it hidden most of the time, though. His brother, and their father, were also miserable souls.'
That sounded like a good emotional handle.
Sayag continued, 'Last century there was a fad where the Brothen rich considered themselves too good to soil their own hands with war or commerce. The more hirelings a family had, the higher its status. The Bruglioni took that too much to heart. They never really got over it. After a parade of uninspired chieftains, they've pretty much lost their ability to do anything useful themselves.'
'I see.' He did not.
'The Bruglioni who died in Madhur Plaza were their best young men. Only their reputation for savagery and brutality protects them now. But the wolves smell weakness. The vultures are circling. Paludan's hired swords have all deserted. The Brotherhood of War has him marked. They're convinced that he was behind the killing of their men the night he lost his sons. A Bruglioni servant says he saw the missing heads inside the Bruglioni citadel the next day. And rumor says Paludan himself tortured Father Obilade to death. Sylvie Obilade being the Bruglioni household priest and Paludan's personal confessor, but also a spy. He arranged the ambush in the plaza. Not expecting a bloodbath.'
'I see. Convolution in the Brothen tradition. And Paludan Bruglioni isn't a good employer.'
'Correct. Don Inigo and I both cautioned him to restrain himself in your case. First, because he needs you desperately. Second, because we consider you more a loan man a pass along, his to do with as he pleases.'
'Really?' Now what? He had met Inigo Arniena only in passing. The Don was a wizened little character vain enough to dye his hair black. Yet he enjoyed a joke, even at his own expense. He was less formal and stuffy than Salny Sayag.
Else could see no reason for Don Inigo to extend special protection to a passing rogue he meant to plant on an enemy as part of a larger scheme.
'The Don asked me to see if you won't make that a literal truth.'
'You're going to have to be more direct.'
'Long ago, when they were boys, Freido Bruglioni, Paludan's father, disrespected Don Draco Arniena in a way that Paludan doesn't know Don Inigo knows about. Don Inigo also knows the Bruglioni consider it a great joke. I'm not privy to the details myself. I do know that Don Draco swore to avenge the insult Don Inigo promised his father on his deathbed that he would finish it. Last summer, when Don Inigo's heart almost betrayed him, he settled on a scheme where the Arniena vote in the Collegium would undercut the Bruglioni at some critical point. Meantime, publicly, Don Inigo remains Paludan's staunch ally.'
'I think I begin to see.'
'No doubt already being in a similar position on behalf of the Benedocto.'
'Not them. Bronte Doneto.'
'Who is an extension of the Patriarch, if you ask most people. No matter. The Don doesn't want much from you that you won't do anyway.'
'So. This was why it was so easy for Principatй Doneto arrange to slide me in through the Bruglioni back door?'
