'Before you moved to the Chiaro Palace Divino gave you a bag of coins.'
'He did. Yes. It got me through an uncomfortable transition.'
'Was there a ring in the bag?'
Hecht frowned. The truth was, yes. What looked like a simple gold band till you held it to the light. 'Odd question. Divino asked me the same thing. But there were only some old coins. All foreign or odd. I took the bag to a goldsmith and exchanged them for modern coinage. He probably robbed me. But it saved me having to deal with a different kind of coin every time I wanted to buy something.'
'There was no ring?'
'I didn't see a ring. Why is it important?'
'It's a magic ring. So Divino believed. And Paludan still does. It's been in the family for ages. It's disappeared. All anyone can figure is, it must have been in that sack.'
'I didn't see it.'
'Neither did Hanfelder. So what became of it?'
'Who's Hanfelder?'
'The goldsmith. We tracked him down. A slimy Deve. He didn't seem to be lying.'
'Now I'm nervous. You going to all that trouble. Over an heirloom.'
'It's a magic ring.'
'I got that. But what does it do that makes it important?'
'I don't know. I'm not sure Paludan does. Divino probably knew. But he died before he could tell anyone. We do know, though, that one of its qualities is to make you forget it.'
'Forget it?'
'More like overlook. Then not be there when you remember and start looking.'
'All right,' Hecht said in a slow, skeptical drawl.
Saluda flashed a charming smile, not something he did frequently. 'I know. I know. But I have to do what they ask. Even if it makes no sense to me.'
'If this ring knows how to hide I'd find me a sorcerer I could trust and start hunting in Divino's apartment in the Bruglioni impound. It's probably hidden under his mattress.'
Scowling, Saluda responded, 'I'll pass that suggestion on to Paludan. I'm sure he hasn't thought of that.'
'Just trying to be helpful, Principate. Sergeant Bechter. What's on the schedule?'
'The consolidation program. There'll be local resistance.'
'I think I know how to avoid some of the problems.'
'Sir?'
We pander. To the local egos. If the Patriarch approves. If I sell Principate Doneto he'll convince his cousin. There. I in ready. Was there anything besides the missing ring, Principate?'
'Call me Gervase, Hecht. No. But that was important enough.'
'I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, Gervase.'
'A little clumsy, eh?'
'It is. Wait. You never told me what the ring looks like. Something big, gaudy, and ugly, right? If it's got a charge of sorcery on it?'
Saluda shrugged. 'I've never seen it. Paludan says it's just a plain gold band.'
'That doesn't sound like much. Not very impressive.'
''There's stuff engraved on it.'
Hecht waited. Saluda did not expand.
'Spells? Family history?'
'I don't know. I wasn't told. I'm not family.'
'Really? From where I stood you looked more Bruglioni than anyone born to the name.'
Saluda grunted. Hecht had touched a sore spot. He asked, 'The old place still holding together? Madam Ristoti managing all right?'
'You done real good while you were there, Mr. Captain-General. It hasn't fallen apart yet.'
'Good. I gave value for money.'
'More than that, really. Paludan does take an interest nowadays. You sure you can't help with the ring?'
'You're a Prince of the Church, now. Bully some low-level witch doctor into hunting for it. It's got to be in the house somewhere. Unless it was pinched by somebody I fired.'
'That doesn't seem likely.'
'Is that it? There isn't anything more critical?'
'Just the ring.'
'Then it must be more important than I suspected.'
Saluda considered a moment before admitting, 'Could be. Paludan didn't tell me why he's so interested, suddenly. Maybe he found a note he wrote to himself and decided to get after it before he forgot again.'
'I see. Let me know if anything turns up.' Hecht made a small gesture to Bechter. 'We have work to do at the Castella. Oh. Gervase. Did the disaster yesterday hurt the Bruglioni?'
Saluda flashed a smile. 'Not much. The Madisetti and Arniena took the brunt. And Cologni. A fortune in racing tackle went down with the hippodrome.'
'I see. As I said, keep me posted. Sergeant, those papers you wanted me to read. Bring them once you show the Principate out.'
Redfearn Bechter did as instructed. Hecht scanned reports during the walk to the Castella dollas Pontellas. Half dealt with recent events in Brothe. They were more properly Pinkus Ghort's responsibility. 'Give me an opinion, Bechter. How should we deal with this disaster?' The human cost was greater than he had expected. The hippodrome had been infested with squatters.
'That's been determined already, sir. The Patriarch announced a subscription effort. As donations are made the money will be used to clean up and rebuild.'
'Not going to spend any of his own, eh?'
'Hardly. Not that he has much. Most of the Arnhander bribe still hasn't arrived.'
The plan was to pay unemployed refugees in food for labor.
Principate Delari asked, 'Did Doneto show up at your staff meeting?'
'Yes. And showed no sign that he thinks I might suspect lurn. But maybe he was too tired to play around. I know I was.'
'Good. I was concerned.' The old man poured white wine into sparkling scarlet Clearenzan stemware, pushed that across a walnut tabletop polished smoother than a sheet of glass. Muniero Delari lived an austere life but did not disdain presents when.someone wanted to butter him up. 'Did you present your case?'
'I did. He told me it was ingenious. That Sublime should go along. I should get a Patriarchal Bull before the end of the week.'
'I was afraid of that.'
'Sir?'
'That tells me they've been looking for the kind of tool you've just given them.'
'All right. I give. How did I mess up?'
'You didn't. You're doing your job. I'm in a political place where that disappoints me. Do you want to see our captive?'
'Not unless I need to. Did you get anything?'
'Of course. He wasn't at the center of the conspiracy but he knew where the Witchfinders want to go. Which is to gain direct control of the Patriarchy.'
'They're not happy with Sublime? The man is obsessed with the Holy Lands and heretics and unbelievers.'
'They're not happy at all. Sublime isn't at war with the Night. The Witchfinders don't care about the Connec. They don't care about reclaiming the Holy Lands, either. They believe all that will follow automatically from a triumph over the Night.'
'So they're up to what?'
'Thwarting Sublime. Breaking Sublime. Positioning themselves to seize control of the Patriarchy by naming
