'She has Sublime's letters of blessing. She's put Regard on the Arnhander throne.'
Hecht chuckled. 'She paid enough. To our profit.'
'Now she wants something more. She's called out the entire feudal levy to help King Peter stop the Almanohides.'
'The what?'
'The who. The Almanohides. Praman tribal fighters from the other side of the Escarp Gebr al Thar.'
'Oh.' Hecht had not heard that name for those people before.
'The new Kaif of al-Halambra summoned them.'
That Hecht did know. The process had begun before their departure from the Connec.
'He's determined to crush Peter before he can be any more successful. He means to keep on moving north if he breaks King Peter. He sees nothing to stop him now that we've moved over here to Artecipea.'
Hecht understood the hidden message.
A new storm was coming. It was time to keep an eye on their backs, in case the uneasy alliance here fell apart.
Hecht said, 'Let's put the fear of God in our friends. We'll let them see the firepowder weapons at work. Speaking of which. You need to find Drago Prosek right away.'
'The situation in Direcia had another interesting effect. The Patriarch himself postponed the marriage between Empress Katrin and Jaime of Castauriga.'
Hecht had not thought much about events inside the Grail Empire. 'Interesting.'
'Want some more interesting? You were invited.'
'Say what?'
'Anna showed me the letter. With the Imperial seal. Signed by the Empress herself. Requesting the presence of the Captain-General at the celebration mass. And so forth.'
'I don't understand.'
'Don't ask me to explain.'
Was it Helspeth? 'One more puzzle to keep me awake at night, then.'
'Plenty of puzzles to keep me up.'
Hecht frowned. Consent sounded unhappy. 'How so?'
'There have been a couple more suicides amongst my Devedian relatives and acquaintances.'
'And? I'm not understanding. Were they that upset about you converting?'
'No. None of them believed I meant it. I was the Chosen One. How could I run out? They're only now starting to believe it. But they're still cooperating. They still think they can profit from the connection.'
'And I'm still confused, Titus.'
'My problem is, these men who killed themselves, I've known them all my life. I can't believe any of them would become that hard a slave of despair. Devedians and despair are intimates. Life partners. Soul mates. They wouldn't kill themselves.'
'So what's going on?'
'I don't know! That's the horrible part! Men who wouldn't kill themselves at the worst times did it in front of witnesses.'
Hecht sighed. He sensed Consent's pain. But what could he do? 'I can pray for them, Titus. That's all. I didn't know them. I don't know what drove them.'
'Never mind me, Captain-General. The new falcons are here, including the ones Prosek designed. Along with tons of firepowder and ammunition. If you want to provoke the Night, now is the time.'
'Which is why you need to get together with Drago Prosek.'
The pagan stronghold had not suffered much from traditional artillery. The besiegers had not been able to build many engines. Lumber was scarce. What little there was had to be hauled a long, hard way before it could be used.
Ammunition was plentiful, though. There were rocks everywhere.
The falcons could do little damage, either. They did not have the power. But those that Prosek had redesigned could be fired faster than the others.
The powder and shot for the new generation were preloaded into a cast-iron pot that seated into a breech in the reinforced base of the falcon. A protruding thumb rotated into a notch, holding the pot in place. That rotation brought a drilled hole into view. Firepowder dribbled into the hole would be fired with a slow match. The pot could be replaced quickly. The spent pot could be reloaded at leisure while the weapon itself went through subsequent firing cycles.
Hecht now felt better about his chances for surviving the interest of the Night. But the new weapons and ammunition and firepowder had cost enough to leave the Patriarchal army strapped. Despite successes in the Connec and intercepted specie shipments from Salpeno, there would not be enough money to carry on past midsummer.
Hard work in the mines helped keep the soldiers out of trouble. And they needed distraction. Disaffection had begun to appear amongst the rank and file. Some thought their Captain-General was not forceful enough with Brothe. They thought their commander should have told the Patriarchal legate to use his new assignment for a suppository.
Titus Consent suggested, 'A few bordellos down the mountain would be more useful than making these guys work fifteen hours a day on mines and approach curtains. Especially when those people around the other side aren't doing anything.'
They were not working because Count Hercule and his Praman associates were as nervous about each other as they were about Arn Bedu. Both told the Captain-General, individually, that there was no reason to work. That time was the best weapon in their arsenal.
Hecht told them, individually, 'I want to go home. And my men aren't in a patient mood.'
The Mountain and Az, or Bone, were always close by when Hecht talked to Iskandar and Count Hercule. He got few chances to visit. Nor did the Ninth Unknown create many opportunities for communication. Yet the man in brown was often there, in the corner of Hecht's eye.
Redfearn Bechter reported sightings every day. Bechter was troubled. Bechter was no longer convinced by his Captain-General's protestations of ignorance.
Cloven Februaren did manage when he cared enough. Usually deep in the night, when sleep was more precious than rubies. Employing one of those time-stopping spells. Freezing the lifeguards on duty. Who panicked when the spell wore off. They always knew that something had happened. They never came close to guessing the truth.
'Piper!' The old man spoke softly but insistently. 'Wake up, Piper.'
Piper Hecht grunted and rolled away. It seemed he had just gotten to sleep.
'Come on, boy. Wake up and listen. Or you're going to be dead. Real soon now.'
That moved him. Some. He cracked an eye. And found himself nose to nose with Cloven Februaren. 'What?'
'There's going to be an attack. By the Night. Soon. You need to get ready.'
Hecht said something rude and tried to turn over.
A bee sting pain hit his right buttock. He almost cried out. Boyhood training stopped him.
Tears did flood his eyes.
'Are you listening?'
'Yes.'
'The Night will come. Your great enemy has told it where to find you. That's always the Night's great challenge when it reaches into our world. Finding the right man in the right moment. The Night sees our world through nearsighted eyes.'
'So I've heard.' Tone suggesting that Februaren make his point.
'You must prepare.'
Hecht believed he was prepared. 'I'm listening.'
'It's time to use the ring.'
'Uh? Ring?' What was the man blathering about, now?
'The ring you appropriated from the Bruglioni. The one you forget about. The one you wear on a chain around
