Lord of the Silent Kingdom

The third group was drawn from the richest families. The equestrian order. The men who could afford horses. Mimicking antiquity.

That puffed wealthy egos. Though there was resistance to actually going into the field.

The Brothen militia, as were those being organized in all the other Patriarchal cities, was expected to make some of its number available for service outside the home city.

Since ancient times the overlord had had the right to call out the entire male population. In the developing system a militiaman could expect to do forty days of active field service about once every six years.

Even the least enthusiastic cities would tolerate a ten percent call-up. Or, Hecht hoped, they would contribute money. That would let him hire experienced troops from amongst the refugees.

One of Anna's neighbors, a widow named Urgent, found him. 'There you are. Anna is beside herself. You should treat her better.'

'You could be right. Is she hurt? Are the children all right?'

'They're fine. The girl is covered with blood but it was just a nosebleed.'

'Good. Would you tell them where you found me?'

'Why don't you?'

'Madam, I'm here for a reason. Not because I need a nap.' The Urgent woman was the busybody sort. Nevertheless, she nodded once, sharply, and went away. He passed out moments later, while trying to get up.

'Pinkus?'

'The one and only. How come you're loafing around in here?' Ghort settled cross-legged, part of him on Hecht's pallet and part on that of a man who had arrived while Hecht was unconscious. The other man would not mind. He was dead.

'Last time I tried to get up I passed out.'

'What I heard. I'll have a couple guys hang around. In case they try again.'

'What?'

Ghort reflected. 'That's right. You wouldn't know.'

'Know what?'

'The big boom. We think it was meant for you. Only it went off early.'

'Uhm?'

'All right. From the beginning. There was a donkey cart loaded with kegs of firepowder. Made a hell of a bang. It was supposed to go off in front of Anna's house.'

Impossible that he should be so lucky, Hecht thought. He suspected that Ghort agreed. Ghort said, 'We caught two men. Which is how we know what was supposed to happen. We'll backtrack it. From them and from the source of the firepowder.'

'Sounds like you got it all under control.'

'I think so. Tell me something, Pipe.'

'What's that?'

'How come people keep trying to waste your ass? You might be the fucking Captain-General but it still don't make sense that somebody keeps coming after you.'

'Pinkus, I wish I knew. If I did, you can bet your mother's reputation I'd be on top of it. But I don't have a clue. It can't be the past catching up. I don't have that interesting a past.'

'Freaky.'

'Absolutely. This scares me more than if I did know why. Because then I'd know who. Are you sure somebody was after me?'

'As sure as I can be of anything. And they were so eager that they didn't care how many people got hurt as long as they killed you.'

'You have prisoners who were involved, I'd be thrilled to visit with them myself. Or, if you don't have anything special in mind for them, turn them over to Principate Delari.'

'I might be able to arrange that.'

'Good. Help me get up, here.'

Earth-turning dizziness overwhelmed him before he could get his feet under him. 'I'm not ready. Put me back down.'

Hecht slipped into unconsciousness again.

He wakened. His head was pounding. He thought Anna must be responsible. He worried about the concussion… No Anna. No Pella or Vali. Nor anyone else who was part of his current life. But on the pallet formerly occupied by the dead man was a face from another life.

'Az?'

Al-Azer er-Selim, Master of Ghosts. Almost unrecognizable in western clothing, wearing no facial hair. His eyes gave him away. Those eyes had looked into the heart of the Night, yet remained amused by the folly rampant in Man and all of God's creation.

'Captain.' Softly. Breathlessly.

'What are you doing?'

'I haven't been able to see you any other way. You seem to be avoiding us.'

'Not so. Fate itself is determined to distract me.'

'Fate, Captain?' Though Az had regular congress with the Night he remained a faithful Praman.

'Poor choice of words. Hard not to pick up bad habits here. Especially when you have to fit in.'

Az took no position in response. But he would be familiar with the problem.

Hecht asked, 'See anybody paying attention to us?'

Headshake.

'How did you get in here?'

'Had myself carried in. They're still finding people out there.'

Hecht levered himself into a sitting position. He was feeling better, now. He would be doing no running, though.

'You were the target, you know.'

'What?' As though he had not heard it already, from Pinkus Ghort.

'The explosion was supposed to destroy you and the woman's house. They've been waiting for weeks for the chance.'

'How do you know?'

'We know some of the people. We know who's paying them.'

'Excellent. Why are you here?'

'To talk with my captain.'

'Here in Brothe? You don't belong.'

'We weren't given a choice, Captain. They wouldn't let us on the boats that took the Sha-lug and Lucidians out of Calzir. Men we knew, some from our own schools, showed us the edge of their weapons and made us stay. We weren't supposed to survive al-Khazen. Your attack, the Emperor's, the Instrumentalities that appeared, and the intercession by the Collegium, all those kept us from being slaughtered. Evidently it was extremely inconvenient that we survived. People have been hunting us ever since.'

'Pretty much what I've suspected. But I can't get it to make sense. Gordimer's paranoia doesn't explain it.'

'It isn't Gordimer. It's the Rascal. We're sure. For some reason we can't figure he's afraid of everybody who got him his mummies from Andesqueluz. He's determined to see us all dead. And you in particular.'

Hecht shook his head slowly, checking to see if anyone was interested. 'How bad has it been?'

'We lost Agban, Norts, and Falaq. And Hagid. Which could be a huge mistake. For the Rascal.'

'I knew about Hagid. It happened…'

'He wanted to get to you. Some big secret. So big that he sneaked out of al-Qarn and came all the way here to tell you. You made an impression on that boy.'

'And er-Rashal killed him.'

'Not personally. He made it happen.'

'You know for sure? You're not just speculating?'

'Half and half. The Rascal has a long, strong reach on the Night side.'