Delari's voice fell to a whisper. 'Say nothing. Do nothing.'
The old man turned his head slowly, side to side, listening intently. Eyes shut, he sniffed the air. He breathed, 'It's time to go.' He began to retrace their path carefully, straining for silence.
Hecht asked no questions. His amulet had suddenly turned bitter cold.
Something extremely unpleasant had begun to stir out in the darkness.
The old man relaxed visibly once they entered the tunnel to the Chiaro Palace.
'What happened?' Hecht finally asked.
'We almost walked right into something very dark and very powerful. It was asleep, but suddenly restless. I didn't want to waken it.' Soon afterward, he added, 'It may be the thing responsible for those grotesque murders. Now we know where it dens up, we can go after it.'
'Why not now?'
'Because I'm one old man, by myself, all alone, and worn out from showing you this tiny slice of the world below.' A chuckle. 'And because I'm unarmed and it felt like it might be nastier than anyone guessed before.'
6. The Princess in Plemenza
Princess Helspeth started angry. Algres Drear kept dragging his heels. She stayed angry. Drear persisted in his claim that waiting a few weeks would make for a dramatically easier journey. Weather was Drear's determined ally in thwarting her desires. Her most fervent desire.
She wanted to be in her city of Plemenza.
Weather be damned, just days after Lothar bestowed the Plemenza honors, Helspeth and those of her household hardy enough moved from Alten Weinberg to Hochwasser, on the Bleune. Hochwasser was a ghost town just beginning to show signs of life because the Emperor was expected. The Bleune was wide, filthy, and speckled with floes of ice, some the size of warships.
The serious delays came at Hochwasser.
Couriers reported only one pass even remotely usable. This was the worst winter on record. Only the toughest, most determined travelers had any hope of getting through. Helspeth was determined to try. And did, accompanied only by Captain Drear and two Braunsknechts who felt the eyes of Johannes Blackboots's ghost crisping the backs of their necks. They refused to let Hansel's baby girl go alone once it was clear she could not be dissuaded.
Helspeth demonstrated a stubbornness the Braunsknechts found disturbing. Weather did not stop her. Cold did not stop her. The threat of frostbite did not intimidate her. The presence in the mountains of something abidingly awful did not frighten her into turning back, though it stalked them for days, singing in the wind. Algres Drear was both impressed and deeply concerned.
That was a prince of the Night out there. Something remarkably wicked and cruel, a near god. You needed no mystic talent to sense it. Yet, this time, it was content to stay its evil. And the folk below the mountains were amazed and disturbed.
This dread spirit had sown terror liberally for close to a year, its predations worsening dramatically with the weather. Those who claimed expertise in the forms assumed by the Night believed it must be some wind-stalking demon-thing somehow displaced from the realms of permanent ice now advancing from the north.
Ignorant folk concluded that the Princess was favored by God. Or was about to become a bride of the Night. Each conclusion led to its special set of fears.
Helspeth reached Plemenza two weeks before spring officially commenced. In a punishing sleet storm that coated men and animals with ice and left the footing so treacherous she thought she might die on the cobblestone street after having survived the worst handed her by the high Jagos.
Other Braunsknechts and hangers-on dribbled in throughout the following month. Following an annoyingly dramatic change of weather that began almost as soon as she reached the Dimmel Palace. Ten days later there was no snow or ice to be seen on the Firaldian side of the Jago Mountains. Traffic through the range normalized quickly.
Algres Drear never said a word.
Which made Helspeth want to cane him with a bamboo flail till he puked up the smug 'Told you so!' smiling behind his calm gray eyes.
More galling still was an illness that claimed her for several weeks. Her cough became frighteningly fierce.
Ferris Renfrow reentered Helspeth's life at the height of her fever. She lay in bed, curtains drawn. She was always too hot or too cold, always exhausted from continuous coughing. She pretended sleep to evade her fussing women. Worst were Lady Chevra diNatale and Lady Delta va Kelgerberg. The former was an unpleasant old cow related to the former Counts of Plemenza. Lady Delta was just four years Helspeth's senior but ancient in her perception of the way an Imperial Princess should comport herself. Lady Chevra was a devoted Brothen Episcopal and, probably, a tool of the Council Advisory. Va Kelgerberg was a devoted companion but tedious to the point of excruciation.
The true, deep horror was that both women believed they knew best what was best for Princess Helspeth Ege.
When Helspeth first heard Renfrow she thought it was the fever talking. Purely wishful thinking. He would not enter her personal quarters.
Renfrow asked about her health.
'She brought this on herself,' Lady Delta opined, with a superior sniff. 'She's a spoiled, willful child. Much too selfish and far too stubborn. She will have what she will, when she wills it, never mind the cost of her self- indulgence to others. It's a miracle Algres Drear and those two sergeants…'
Chuckling, Renfrow interjected, 'It runs in the family.'
'Johannes was willful but never petty. Nor was he particularly selfish. His stubbornness wasn't about himself or his pleasures. It was always about what was best for the Empire. Sir, this child could become our Empress. In a moment, if God has a bad afternoon. Where will we be if she won't grow up?'
'She's bright. She'll learn.'
'She hasn't given us any reason to hope.'
'Algres Drear is a good man.'
'Who would make a lot more headway if he'd paddle her when she wants to do something as stupid as crossing the Jagos during the winter.'
'I'll talk to her. She took risks that make no sense. I suspect that she didn't understand the dangers, then got lucky. There's a baron of the Night on the prowl up there. Nothing as terrible has been seen since the early days of the Old Empire. Maybe she caught it napping. Maybe the cold slowed it down. It wasn't as nasty as it should have been. I'm no expert. I can't consult the people who are. They're all Sublime's lackeys. But I saw the monster's handiwork. We can only thank God that it took no interest in the child.'
Helspeth wanted to be angry with Delta. She did not indulge. Renfrow was much more critical. Renfrow had always been a demi-god, the iron hammer that forged the Emperor's finished will. If Renfrow found her lacking, then she needed to do some serious self-examination.
Helspeth Ege's circumstances compelled her to live inside herself but she did not do much introspection.
Lady Delta's remarks touched home. Renfrow's criticism kicked the door of her soul wide open.
She did not believe she would become Empress so saw no need to prepare. Others obviously did not concur.
Eges seldom died of the complications of old age. And Lothar, of course, was not expected to survive the year again this year.
Ferris Renfrow asked to be summoned when the princess could see him. He did not hint that she might not be so inclined.
Helspeth was not so inclined. Who did Renfrow think he was, talking like that?
It took time to sink in.
Those nearest to her did not like her much. Her own behavior was the cause.
