catacombs in Brothe. Not as destructive as the one that destroyed the hippodrome, but Principate Delari's house fell into a hole. The catacombs collapsed underneath it.'
The temperature dropped suddenly and dramatically. Hecht's ears popped.
De Herve asked, 'What just happened?'
Jokai said, 'Something left us. I felt it before. Now I don't.' He seemed more worried than ever.
Hecht asked, 'Could that be connected with this?'
'What happened in Brothe?'
'Yes.' Hecht watched closely. The Witchfinders were close to Bronte Doneto. Though Cloven Februaren claimed that Hecht and Principate Delari had misinterpreted events in the catacombs badly. That those Witchfinders had not been in league with the monster Delari slew under the hippodrome. The animosity between Doneto and Delari was, however, real. And there had been congress between the Witchfinders
and Rudenes Schneidel, the latter unaware that he was dealing with the former. Schneidel thought he was manipulating ordinary Special Office sorts, his goal the destruction of the Godslayer. The Witchfinders wanted to worm deeply enough into Schneidel's scheme to get at the man trying to resurrect the horrors of antiquity. Hecht's walk-through in Sonsa, with Pinkus Ghort, had started all that unraveling.
The Ninth Unknown had reported all that in snippets during the Connecten campaign. He had discovered no real significance to Vali Dumaine, however. He could not even confirm old Bit's claims about the girl's origins.
'Probably. The Artecipeans have been active there. As you know.'
'Yes.'
'You seem particularly disturbed by this news.'
'I've been close to Principate Delari. He's been especially kind to me and mine.' In truth, though, what troubled him was confirmation that Cloven Februaren could move from one place to another without setting foot to the ground between.
There was much to learn about his guardian angel.
Principate de Herve asked, 'How long will you need to get ready for transport?'
'I could start some units loading tomorrow. But our animals might be a problem.'
De Herve said, 'Transport won't be any trouble. These crews know how to move troops and animals, both. Loading in this port could become an adventure, though. Sea levels have dropped so far that only smaller vessels can warp in to the wharves and still have water under their keels at low tide if they're loaded. The pilot who brought us in said the dredges can't take any more mud off the bottom. Sheavenalle's senate
has talked about building new wharves farther out. But if the Mother Sea keeps getting shallower they'll have the same problem again in a few years.'
'They should build floating wharves that can be pushed out as the shoreline moves.' That seemed obvious enough.
'But they aren't there now. It's now that we need to load.'
Hecht made himself unpopular by talking about loadmasters and cargo other than human. His force came with an immense amount of duffel, weaponry, equipment, and animals. A lot of technical, dull business stuff had to be managed so the men with sharp steel could show up where they were needed, with tents to sleep in, food to eat, and horses to ride.
His lifeguards and the Brothers were relaxed, now. They no longer expected a head-butting contest.
Once he had bored the newcomers cross-eyed witty workaday details of army management, Hecht said, 'Colonel Smolens, assemble the officers. Explain what we've been asked to do. Be clear. I want them to poll the troops. Find out how many will stick with us.' There had been a lot of talk about seeing Brothe again, at all levels.
Smolens said, 'I don't think many will drop out.'
'We need hard numbers. We have ships to load. We have a new war to plan.' In a land almost completely unknown.
The Captain-General was tired. He was seeing double. It was deep in the night. He was studying bad maps with men from the transport fleet, none of whom had been to Artecipea. They knew only that the new Patriarch wanted them to land on the west coast of Artecipea, near Homre, a fishing port on the north lobe of the island.
Artecipea consisted of two distinct land masses joined by an isthmus at one point only slightly more than a mile wide. The northern mass was a third the size of the southern. The northern people spoke a language not unintelligible to the folk of the End of Connec. Those from the south could make themselves understood to outsiders only with difficulty. According to Principate de Herve Artecipea strongly preferred the Seska revivalists, other pagans, Pramans, and several varieties of primitive Chaldareans, to the Brothen Episcopal Church. Brothen Episcopals controlled only a few port cities. God and the Church had a more solid grip up north, though the mountain peoples there were all pagans, too, and lately devoted to Rudenes Schneidel.
All the fighting, so far, had occurred on the southern lobe.
Pacificus Sublime wanted to land an army behind an enemy focused south and east. A powerful, veteran army commanded by a man who had scores to settle with Rudenes Schneidel.
Hecht understood the thinking. He could not find fault with it. He could not imagine Schneidel having anticipated what was about to happen.
A change of Patriarchs changed the world.
Titus Consent, scarcely able to keep his eyes open, brought news Hecht would have waited, willingly, years to hear. 'It's a day for harsh news, boss,' Titus said.
'Give it to me. I'm numb enough to take anything, now.'
'King Charlve suffered a massive stroke and died. It looks legitimate. Anne of Menand was nowhere around when it happened. But she was ready to go. She got hold of the instruments of power before anyone could catch their breath. That's just in from Salpeno.'
'What's it mean for us?'
'Not much. It may mean a lot for Arnhand and the Connec. Despite her loose behavior, Anne is very religious. And ambitious. The Connec, with its heretics, has already given her excuses to express the one through the other.'
Hecht frowned. 'Oh? Which is which?'
'Write it yourself. It doesn't matter.'
'We're out of it now, though, aren't we?'
'We should be.'
'Are you going home? Or are you coming with me?'
'I'm going to Artecipea. Reluctantly. I have a child I've never seen.'
'Noe deserves sainthood. On a throne in Heaven right beside Anna.'
'Anna is more used to being her own mistress.'
'Do you wonder about the Night determining times of drastic change? About what forces might be in motion?'
'You just lost me, Captain-General.'
'In an historically minuscule time span we've lost a powerful Grail Emperor, a driven Patriarch, and the sovereign of the most militantly religious Episcopal Chaldarean kingdom. All harbingers of dramatic change. Especially considering the advance of the ice.'
Titus grunted indifferently. He was too tired to worry about it. 'I'm going to bed. Court-martial me if you want. Execution is starting to smell sweet.'
'So waste your life on sleep, weakling.' Hecht settled into a chair, out of the way, and tried to relax, rest, and recuperate while he eavesdropped on his deputies and the men from the fleet.
Hecht's ears hurt suddenly, briefly. For one instant the air. seemed dense and oppressive. He did not care. He was too tired.
'False alarm,' someone breathed into his ear. 'Muniero is fine. Heris is fine. Anna and your children are fine. I've brought letters from all of them. There was some damage to the town house. Likewise, certain other properties. There is little likelihood of further problems. In the short run. Joceran Cuito has a new vision for the Church.'
Piper Hecht pretended he heard the voices of distant ancestors, out of nowhere, all the time. 'What will the
