Lord of the Silent Kingdom

He could not. When not obsessing about Helspeth Ege he worried about Principate Delari, Osa Stile, recruiting troubles, the next assassination attempt, and what had become of al-Azer er-Selim. He wanted a long talk with his onetime Master of Ghosts. But Az had not revealed himself again.

He had not had news from Bo Biogna yet, either. No one had seen Bo for a long time.

Piper Hecht was worried.

Dangers circled like impatient vultures.

'I'm trying, darling. Truly, I am, But…'

Sleep finally returned. Almost that suddenly.

Pella and Vali made breakfast. And did a creditable job. They brought it in to Hecht and Anna, still lying entangled. Neither child was troubled. Privacy was not that common.

Hecht was not comfortable with the situation although, intellectually, he knew that here in the west, even among nobles, whole families slept in the same room, often in the same bed. The usual business between men and women proceeded anyway.

Hecht asked, 'Has our little girl said anything yet?'

'No. But her motives have changed. It isn't about hiding anymore. Now she's just being stubborn.' Anna leaned in to whisper, 'I heard her talking to Pella. She didn't know I was in the next room.'

'She'll come around.' After a few minutes lying there, fed, enjoying the holding and being held, Hecht said, 'They're good kids.'

'Amazingly so, considering their backgrounds. Yes.'

'Aren't we all? Pella ever show signs of homesickness? Does Vali?'

'Pella? Not that I've ever seen.'

'He knows when he's got it good.'

'He mentioned his sister once.'

'The prostitute?'

'He's asked if he can read the book that has him and her in it. I don't know what he means.'

Hecht explained. 'Bronte Doneto has a copy. According to Pinkus. Who claims to have read it. I doubt that Doneto would let us see it. It's banned in the Patriarchal States. It pokes fun at the Church. Supposedly.'

'You haven't found out anything about Vali?'

'Only that her real name can't be Vali Dumaine. Titus can't find Dumaines anywhere who are missing a daughter. Nor are there any girls named Vali missing anywhere, at least at a level where there would be any notoriety.'

'So she's just a clever con artist.'

'Probably. But I still have trouble swallowing the coincidence of her being a prisoner in a sporting house that fronts for the Witchfinder side of the Special Office. For a Brotherhood cabal set on scuttling Sublime's deal with the secret mistress of Arnhand.'

'If you didn't have to be here, if you could just retire and go live your own life, where would you go? What would you do?'

Anna was tense, suddenly. His answer mattered. She was not just chattering in bed. 'I don't know. I've never thought about it.' Dreanger's call was fading, even ignoring its unfriendly attitude since he had been on this side of the Mother Sea. 'I do tell people I want to get rich enough to buy one of those big latifundia farming operations, but I don't mean it. Farming is too much work. Even for owners.'

'You ever done any farming?'

'No.'

'Then definitely don't start. The farmer is at the mercy of everything and everyone. Bugs. Rodents. Moneylenders. Weather. Disease. Peace. War. The whims of God and Man. If it wasn't for forced tenancy, the people who do all the real work would quit.'

'Voice of experience?'

'I had the great good fortune to have good skin, big eyes, a pretty face, and excellent tits when I was young. Those bought me out of the rustic life.'

Hecht knew little about Anna's life before he met her. He never tempted fortune by prying. She seldom shared what she had survived or seen before she opened her door that night in Sonsa. That simple act marked the start of new lives for both of them.

He said only, 'Uhm?'

'You should've seen me when I was sixteen, Piper. I can't believe any girl ever looked that good.'

'I'm sorry I missed you. Though I can't imagine you being more desirable than you are right now.'

'You do have a knack for slinging the bull, Piper Hecht. And a woman of my years does need to hear that sort of thing occasionally.' She grabbed. 'Is this thing interested in another adventure?'

Anna Mozilla made it entirely impossible for Piper Hecht to remember that there were children in the next room.

Pella and Vali were young but not ignorant of the way of men and women. In fact, but for Hecht rescuing her, Vali would by now have had considerable direct knowledge.

Young girls were very marketable.

Boys were, too, though to a smaller pool of eager consumers.

Hecht was half-awake, thinking about Principate Muniero Delari. He had not seen the old man for weeks. Delari was preoccupied with refurbishing his underground world. While striving to avoid exposure to the machinations of Principate Doneto.

Anna snuggled closer, murmuring, 'We should probably think about getting up.'

Hecht had just finished dressing when the world seemed to end.

Hecht wakened aboard a litter. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of spent firepowder. Men from the City Regiment carried the litter's four corners. They wore the padded leather shirts and hard leather caps of the new militia patrol, the constabulari. They jogged up the steps of a church. Other constabularii jostled them, carrying other litters.

As the City Regiment dwindled it was being replaced by unpaid citizens performing duties defined by laws newly promulgated by the city senate and approved by the Church and Brothe's leading families. All able-bodied were now obligated to work a shift of fire watch and street patrol once each ten days, inside their native quarter, the shifts set by the crafts guilds and neighborhood social associations.

Although called quarters, there were nine military districts in Brothe. The patrols had had a dramatic effect on crime.

Hecht wondered where Pinkus Ghort had found the model. The Eastern Empire?

The constabularii lowered the litter. They eased Hecht onto a pallet. One called, 'Father Capricio! This one might be important.' Then they were gone, back for another customer.

Hecht stared at the high ceiling. Angels had been painted between supporting beams. A priest dropped to one knee beside him. 'Ah. You're conscious.' His cassock was that of one of the healing orders. 'Can you tell me how badly you're hurt?'

'Concussion. I think there was an explosion.'

'A huge one. A dozen buildings were damaged.'

'Anna. The kids…' He tried to get up.

'Lie still. The constabulari will deal with it. Injured women and children would be here already. One of the deacons or altar boys can help you look. If you don't need me?'

'I don't know if I do. I'm having trouble feeling things.'

'I don't see anything external. And I do have seriously wounded people here.'

'Go.'

Where had Ghort harvested his three-branched militia idea? Every Patriarchal city now had to organize a militia. The Captain-General's idea. Pinkus Ghort, overseeing the Brothen militia, built the local force to his own standards, dividing it into the constabulari, the guardi, and the equestri. The guardi manned permanent watch stations on the city wall and manned the several gates. They came from a more prosperous class than the constabulari. Already, some were pooling resources to hire individuals to fulfill their obligations for them. All of those hirelings were veterans of the City Regiment. And now, more than ever, beholden to the man who found them their jobs, Colonel Pinkus Ghort.