When Shagot finally came around svavar saw no sanity in his eyes. He was not sure what he did see. The mind of a mad god, perhaps. If that was not an oxymoron.
Awareness gradually entered the mind behind Shagot's eyes. Svavar saw the rage fade, noted the exact instant when Grimur Grimmsson returned. Though Grim did not come across as sane himself once he emerged.
'Don't talk,' Svavar croaked. He had hardly trouble talking himself. 'I don't know how long it's been. A long time. I've been awake, off and on, for two days.' In parched snatches he related the little he did know.
Shagot understood the seriousness of his own condition. He did not pursue his usual mad recovery effort. He accepted water and bread mush the best he could, then went back to sleep. Never saying a word.
Shagot slept for two more days.
Svavar slept a lot, too. He felt much better when Grim next awakened, though his strength was still less than half normal. His wounds still hurt badly. His joints ached. As did his soul.
This time Shagot did talk, a few words at a time. 'It's been eight days, plus. The city has changed. We have to leave. They'll start looking for us soon. Seriously. House to house. Using the power of the Collegium. We can't take them on. So we'll go away and strike again after they forget us.'
'The Godslayer survived?'
'Of course. You doubted that he would?'
'I was pretty sure he had.'
'Want a real kick in the ass? We saved the asshole's life by attacking when we did. The way it came together, the Gray One suspects the Trickster's meddling. But I don't think the Trickster has that kind of reach.'
'Something weird did happen, Grim. There was another power there, a shade, maybe. Something besides us and them sorcerers. Bigger than us and them put together. I think it would've kept us from killing the Godslayer if we'd tried. It saved us from getting dead, too, though. It even protected the sorcerers from us. No matter how hard I try, though, I can't figure out who or what it was.'
'Which is why the Gray One thinks his nephew must be involved, if not directly, then through somebody he conned into doing his dirty work.'
'The All-Father doesn't know what's going on?'
'Some things are hidden from the gods themselves, particularly when other gods are involved.'
'What?'
'The presence you sensed must have been somebody who came through from the Great Sky Fortress during the fight. I think somebody seized the power of the blood just when some of the Chosen were going to come help us finish the Godslayer.'
Svavar did not understand. 'We were supposed to be done with it?'
'Yes. We were that close. But somebody, probably from the Great Sky Fortress, sabotaged us. Somebody kept me from conjuring the Heroes.'
That clarified nothing for Svavar. He did not think the presence of the unknown was something new. He thought they had picked it up as long ago as at that old battlefield in Arnhand. But Shagot's speculation did offer a glimmer of the divine plan as Shagot understood it.
Shagot said, 'That somebody is still here, little brother. Out of the Night. On the mortal plane. And not far off. We need to be more careful, at least till we understand what's going on.'
The owners of that home must have been killed in the fighting. Nobody reclaimed the place. Nobody tried to loot it, either. People stayed away by the thousands.
Svavar found a razor. He shaved his face and head. He shaved Shagot, too. He appropriated clothing for himself. It did not fit right but he did not need to be a dandy.
'Grim, I can limp around, now. I'm gonna go see what I can find out.'
'Be careful, brother. I'm still too weak to tell if you get in trouble.'
'You bet, Grim.' He was careful. Always more so than Grim could imagine being. Grim had complete confidence in the favor of the gods. Everything had to work out when you had the Instrumentalities of the Night behind you.
Svavar, though, was deeply aware that they were in a land with alien gods. In Brothe the Old Ones were rats in the mystic walls. Noisy, malodorous, unpleasant, unwanted supernatural vermin.
Svavar found Brothe little changed physically, but possessed of a new attitude toward the rest of the world, Calzir in particular. Everyone had a hate on for Calzir, now. And those who made decisions intended to take the suffering right back to the pirates' homeland.
Fighting continued in a half-dozen areas where trapped Calzirans battled on. The Brothen strategy urged patience. The pirates were isolated, then ignored. Hunger would bring them out eventually.
There were a thousand rumors afoot. The Patriarch would proclaim a crusade against Calzir. The Grail Emperor would let his subject kingdom Alameddine become a jumping-off platform. He would participate himself.
Of more interest were rumors about the hunt for two blond sorcerers. Proclamations had been posted in public squares and nailed to the doors of churches. Svavar got their gist from literate passersby.
Svavar could ask questions safely as long as he pretended to be one of the immigrant mercenaries fighting the pirates. He returned to Shagot knowing as much as any Brothen in the street.
'We do need to move out, Grim. They're putting together a gang to hunt us down. Two hundred men. They're training right now. They've got a crew of sorcerers coming in, too. From something called the Special Office at the headquarters of the Brotherhood of War. They're going to toss the whole city once they get here.'
'We'll need a coach. Or a wagon. Something that can move me. I've got a while to heal yet.'
'But you always heal so fast.'
'This time, too. But this time I've got to get over death itself.'
'What?' Was Grim joking?
No.
'There's no way I should've survived, little brother. Too much happened to me. It took the joined will of the Old Ones to blind death till my flesh recovered.'
Shagot sounded deeply disturbed. Maybe he did not understand that they were not wholly alive anyway. But death held no terror for Shagot. Never had. Ah! He did fear life as a cripple.
He had no choice while he remained touched by the gods. He would hunt the Godslayer forever, dragging himself forward with the one finger left on his one remaining hand.
'I'll find out what we can do. I might have to buy something.'
'Do what you have to. Fast. We need to get a head start on those Special Office sorcerers.'
'You know about them?'
'They hunt and kill people like us. People touched by what they call the Instrumentalities of the Night. They want to destroy the gods themselves. Every god, every hidden thing, even the least little hulder, except for their own god.'
Shagot was awake when Svavar returned from town. He looked better. 'What's wrong, little brother? You look like you swallowed a bug.'
'A big-ass stinkbug, Grim. We don't have any money anymore.'
'Huh?'
'That asshole Talab that you picked to take care of it? He fucked us, Grim. He figured out who we are. He reported us to the Collegium. They took our money. Except for twelve percent that he got as a reward.'
'And?'
'So I killed him. After I made him tell me about it. I took money he had laying around. He wanted to pay me not to hurt him.'
Shagot frowned, worried. 'You got away with it?'
'I shook the guys chasing me before I crossed the river.'
