along.'
'And it was all too good to be true.'
'Yes. Because fate jumped in right away.'
'It'll do that. Especially if things start going good.”
'We got sent to the Connec. Idiot orders from the Patriarch and a brain-dead local bishop got my kids all killed. Only a few of us got out alive. Mostly Brotherhood guys, of course. You'd figure, wouldn't you? And the bigwigs, naturally.
'That's how life works.'
'It does. But it's not right. Anyway, there I was, on my own again. For a whole damned month before I even heard that Grade Drocker, who was supposed to be in charge. You know, I never saw that asshole once. Him and his Brotherhood buddies ran downriver, grabbed a ship and escaped by sea. Leaving the rest of us to look out for ourselves.'
The skull-faced man said, 'Several survivors of the Connecten adventure were involved the night we lost Gildeo, Acato, Saldi, and me others. Did you know that?'
'No. I don't know much about that. Just rumors. I never knew for sure which Brothers made it back. I don't want anything to do with those people. One exposure was enough.'
'Why wouldn't you be interested in the incident? If you wanted to work here?'
'I didn't want to. Not then. And it didn't affect the Arniena until Don Inigo saw the Bruglioni in tough circumstances and decided to show his regard for them.'
Paludan asked, 'You admit you're a mercenary? That what you're interested in is personal advancement?'
'Sure. Why wouldn't I? The way I'll get ahead is to be dedicated and loyal and do the best job I can. Don Inigo had my complete devotion. The Bruglioni will get it if you hire me. If Don Inigo had released me I might have left Brothe. Vondera Koterba is recruiting in Alameddine. He's offering particularly good terms. But Don Inigo asked me to come here. So here I am. I'll serve you till you release me or send me elsewhere.'
What Else said encapsulated the supposed philosophy of the mercenary brotherhood in Firaldia. But it was just talk. Mercenaries and employers alike acknowledged the ideals only when it was convenient.
It was not a time when large, permanent bands, captained by famous professionals, contracted as units. The last notorious company ended with the destruction of Adolf Black's regiment in the Black Mountain Massacre.
'Why should we trust you?'
'You shouldn't. I'm no different than any other prospective employee. You have to ask yourself, how can I hurt you?' According to Pinkus Ghort and others who had soldiered in Firaldia, Else understood that he had to conduct this interview on the paranoid edge. Firaldians who hired people to fight for them were often naive. Many fighters for hire were naive, too. And no one trusted anyone.
Fortunes, loyalties, allegiances, all shifted quickly in modern Firaldia. Treachery was a fact of life. For some, it was a way of life.
Insofar as Else Tage could see, the Firaldian Peninsula was where insanity went to retire. Nothing there made sense except at the most shallow level.
Paludan Bruglioni said, 'Gervase?'
'Inigo Arniena and Salny Sayag recommend him so highly, you'd almost have to suspect them of wanting to get rid of him.'
The third man said, 'The Arniena have been having trouble meeting financial obligations because of the pirate raids.'
Paludan grunted. 'Those have hurt everybody.'
'Them worse than anybody but the Benedocto. They aren't getting their rents or fees.'
'Is that true, Hecht? Are they trying to reduce their expenses?'
'I don't know. There was talk that things aren't going well. But nothing concrete. Oh. There was something about selling an island. In the Vieran Sea. To the Sonsans. The Scoveletti family, I think. There's some kind of marital connection.'
That got some attention. 'Sogyal?' Paludan asked. 'They're considering turning loose of Sogyal? Ha-ha!'
Rogoz had said that a mention of selling that island might seal the deal. Else did not know why. 'I don't know. They didn't talk about it when I was around. I overheard by accident I think it's a big secret that's supposed to stay secret even after the deal is done. There's a lot of worry about Dateon and Aparion finding out too soon.'
'Ha! Sogyal. Those fools never have understood how valuable that island is.'
Paludan Bruglioni launched a long, rambling tale of treachery, marriages of convenience, more treachery, dowries, and even more treachery, that put a particularly well-located and easily defended island into the hands of the Arniena halfway through the previous century. Sogyal was so strategically located that the Patriarch, both Emperors, all three mercantile republics, and several lesser kings and dukes had tried to buy it. The Arniena would not sell. Their intransigence had led to unsuccessful attempts to take the island by force as Dateon and Aparion strove toward supremacy on the Vieran Sea.
Else just nodded, tried to look wise, and observed, 'All Firaldian stories are long on treachery.'
'This's wonderful news,' Paludan said. 'We can profit from knowing this. Gervase, Hecht looks like the man we want. Work out the details and get him set up. Let him have Polo permanently.'
Else spent a day roaming the Bruglioni citadel. Nothing was off limits. 'You don't want to go down there, though,' Polo told Else when he considered a descent into the cellars.
'Thought I could go anywhere.'
'You can. I'm just hoping you won't.'
'Why not? What's down there?'
'Dirt and cobwebs and bad smells. Maybe a haunt or two. Nothing you'd want to find. Then a long climb back up.'
'You're sure about that, Polo?'
'There're childhood fears, too. The boogerman lives down there.'
'The boogerman is real, Polo. If you're in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and you're not ready for the boogerman, you can find yourself in a world of trouble. It happens all the time where I come from.'
'This is Brothe, sir. This city exists because the Instrumentalities of the Night are real. You don't have to convince Brothens.'
Else did descend the long stair.
The Bruglioni cellars could have come straight out of a spooky story. They had cobwebs, vermin, slime in places, puddles of seepage, and an impressive range of unpleasant odors.
And a few minor, unhappy spirits, hidden in the reservoirs of darkness.
Else soon understood Polo's reluctance to face the return climb.
Polo puffed and told him, 'In olden times the whole city had cellars under it Still does, actually. Some way down deeper than this. Every ten or fifteen years there's a cave-in somewhere when part of the underground collapses because of what all has been piled on top since.'
'Bet some interesting antiquities turn up when that happens.'
'The antiquities were all looted in antiquity. They never find anything but dead people. Some of them old- timers but mostly ones that haven't been dead long at all.'
'Meaning?'
'Meaning there's a class of Brothen who use the old catacombs. For shelter. And to hide bodies they don't want to turn up in the Teragi or an alley somewhere. Any loot down there will be something stolen in the last few days that is cooling off.'
First glimpse of another side of the city, Else thought. A side that was always there, in every city, though always more so where the state was weaker. A side that had to exist so that there would be men to condemn to the galleys or the mines.
Paludan Bruglioni summoned Else to an evening meeting four days after his arrival. Bruglioni's quarters were
