Lord of the Silent Kingdom

new situation in Arnhand mean?' Hoping to catch the Ninth Unknown out He did not. 'Misery for the End of Connec. In time. You'll be able to throw up your hands and say it wasn't your fault You were gone before the real wretchedness started.'

Hecht had no idea what the ancient was babbling about. He did have brainpower enough to realize that his mutterings were attracting attention. Jokai, in particular. The Witchfinder had that constipated look again. Hecht said, 'Gentlemen, I need to go lie down. I've started talking to myself.' His staff could see what needed doing and could get on it without detailed instructions.

Hecht removed his boots before lying down. Nothing more. 'I meant what I said about resting. There's nothing that needs talking about so desperately that it can't wait till I'm able to uncross my eyes.'

'I brought letters.'

'They'll be there in the morning. Go away.' He closed his eyes. Briefly, he wondered how Februaren accomplished so much in so little time. Then his lifeguards were rousting him out. One told him that Madouc would survive his wound. Again. 'The man needs to retire. You can't win, you keep throwing the bones with Death.'

That got him some looks.

Despite obstacles and confusion, a dozen loaded ships warped out next day. To Hecht's surprise, most of the Patriarchal soldiers had chosen to stay. He blamed that on the harsh times.

Those who had become part of the army during its progress through the Connec were those most inclined to leave. Men with families did not want to leave them behind.

Hecht was aboard ship and extremely uncomfortable. He did not like travel by ship. And this ship in particular disturbed him.

Titus Consent joined him at the rail, in the waist of the vessel, where he stared back at Sheavenalle. 'It's official, sir. The ships will have to make two trips. We're moving more people and animals and stuff than I would've thought possible.'

'It's pretty impressive when you lump it all together.' Hecht caught a glimpse of a man in brown trying to avoid notice on the crowded deck. That was good for a boost.

Consent asked, 'Why the bleak look?'

'Ever been out on the Mother Sea?'

'No.'

'You'll figure it out.'

'When were you ever out?'

'When Ghort and I sneaked off to Sonsa.' Sonsa? The wrongness about the ship hit him. He had been aboard her before, coming over from Staklirhod.

'What now?' Consent asked. 'You look like you just saw a ghost.'

'I just remembered how awful it got when we hit bad weather. Pray there aren't any storms. Are there storms sea this time of year? Do you know?'

'No. Of course not.'

Hecht caught a passing deckhand. 'Are there storms out there this time of year? What's this ship's name?'

Head cocked, not quite sure about the Captain-General's sanity, the deckhand said, 'Not so many storms this time of year, sir. In another month, month and a half, maybe. Her name is Vivia Infante, sir.'

Consent asked, 'Why does the name matter?'

'Where I come from people worry about the names of ships. Crewman, do we have a veteran crew? Men who have been aboard a long time?'

'Yes, sir. All experienced hands. We'll get you there safely, sir. I promise.' He got away from the crazy man as fast as he could.

Consent said, 'Sir, you'd better get hold of yourself. You're being watched. The men have never seen you show fear or a lack of confidence. Headed into a war with a sorcerer of the apparent stature of Rudenes Schneidel is no time to strain their faith.'

'You're right. Of course. You always are.' He had meant to mask his interest in the possibility that there might be someone aboard who could recall a down-on-his-luck, homeward-bound crusader named Sir Aelford daSkees. 'But I can't help thinking about what's swimming around down there, waiting to eat me.'

'It's good to see you have a human side, sir.'

'Sarcasm duly noted, Lieutenant. In your intelligence capacity, find out why Sonsa is suddenly best pals with King Peter. They've been in a halfhearted war with Platadura for the last hundred years.'

'That one's easy. Economics. Sonsa lost. They've joined the winners. It's their alternative to economic extinction.'

Probably true, Hecht thought. But… was there still some hidden connection with the Brotherhood of War?

Good thing it was Pinkus Ghort and the City Regiment who occupied Sonsa. Otherwise, these sailors might see a chance to pay off a grudge.

The crossing was not supposed to take long. A little voice in Hecht's ear promised him good weather all the way. He stayed out from underfoot and, when opportunity afforded, dipped into the letters from Anna and the kids. Over and over. Anna was stoically living the life of a woman whose man had a career that kept him away, a sort of benign, resigned, artificial widowhood. The children were living the excited lives of kids who had no wants and few fears. Pella's letter was, in the main, a vehicle for showing off his rapid grasp of learning. Hecht was impressed but thought Pella needed to improve his penmanship.

Vali's letter was brief and clearly a work of obligation. She was well. She hoped the war would be over soon so he could come home and make Anna smile more. Anna worried too much. There was a lot of rioting in the city, lately. She did not understand. She liked Lila, the girl he had sent.

And that was that. Except for the missive from Principate Delari, which just told him to take care. To be prepared to undergo an intense educational experience once he returned to the Mother City.

Half of Hecht's staff was aboard Vivia Infante. Colonel Smolens had been left behind. Hecht hoped to keep him in Sheavenalle, in control, indefinitely, as a logistical root for the Patriarchal forces in Artecipea. Rather than having that support come out of Brothe, at the mercy of whatever political wind happened to be blowing there.

Staff work proceeded, as best it could with limited information. Hecht could not find anyone who had visited the area where he was expected to land. Some genius in Brothe had picked it off a map because it looked like a handy place to get behind the pagans. Brother Jokai-full name Jokai Svlada, from Creveldia-assured him that a Brotherhood team had crossed over from the Castella dollas Pontellas to explore the region. Quietly. They would be waiting for the fleet.

'That's good thinking.'

'The Brotherhood has a lot of experience at these things.'

'What are the chances they'd be spotted by the enemy and captured? I wouldn't want to show up and find an army waiting for me.'

'They're good. They're used to operating inside Praman territory in the Holy, Lands. Those who don't learn how to do it don't live to try it again.'

'I look forward to meeting these paragons.'

Clej Sedlakova came round. 'Stomach all right, boss? You don't seem as rattled as you were.'

'I'm fine. Too busy obsessing about the deep trouble we could be in after we get there to worry about being seasick.' Seasickness was troubling him not at all. Might Cloven Februaren be to blame?

He wished he could talk to the old man. But that could not happen. In his most private moments two lifeguards were within touching distance. Always. Even now. To them every Sonsan crewman was a potential assassin.

None of those men recognized Hecht. He wore his hair shorter now, affected a small goatee beard, and dressed like a Brothen noble. He bore no resemblance to the ragged, hirsute Sir Aelford daSkees. He did recognize several deckhands. None paid any attention to him.