Surrender to the Will of the Night (64 page)

Raulet Archimbault said, “Poppet, that’s why …”

“That isn’t why. You froze. Every last one of you. Like rabbits who hope the fox won’t notice. What happened to all those loudmouthed wolves who were howling before we left Khaurene? And you. Old man. Master. You’re the experienced traveler. Why did you just stand there with your thumb in your mouth?”

“I’m used to talking my way through confrontations.”

“You’re used to being too damned poor to rob and to not having women along. There wasn’t going to be any talking your way around those four.” She dropped to her knees beside the fallen knight, tried to recover her bolt. It would not come loose. She kicked the corpse viciously. Then she took his foot out of his stirrup so the horse would not have to drag a dead man everywhere. “Go on, horse.” She faced the party. “There would’ve been rapes and murders. You know it.”

She was right.

Kedle returned to her cart. She took the crossbow out and spanned it again, the while glaring around. “You people better not get my children killed.” Then, “Othon! Let the dead be. They don’t have anything we want.”

“But …”

“Othon.”

The man, twice Kedle’s age and twice her size, left the dead knight. Kedle said, “Let somebody else plunder them and get caught with the evidence.” She returned the ready crossbow to the cart, took her youngest back from Guillemette, said, “Let’s go. And nobody says a word about this when we get to Castreresone. Or ever.”

The rattle, clank, and squeak started up.

No one spoke for a long time.

The earth had shifted under all their feet.

“Not a word, Master,” Kedle said when he fell in beside her. “I won’t hear your nonsense.”

“As you wish.”

The silence got to her eventually. “I was moved by a grand example, Master. Duke Tormond IV.”

“But Tormond would not have …”

“Exactly. He would have procrastinated. He would have temporized. He would have talked. He would have done everything to avoid making a decision that might upset somebody. Or, worse, would compel him to act. As a consequence, we would find ourselves with a homeland where half the people were persecuted, foreign armies would roam around as they pleased, and it would be lethally dangerous to use the roads.”

The old man could not answer that.

There was a counterargument. Pacifists always had one. But he had become embedded too deeply in the everyday world to bring a good one to mind.

He did mutter, “But three men are dead,” understanding that it was an absurd remark as he made it.

“Leaving the rest of us, the people we care about, alive and unharmed. Eh?”

How did you argue with true believers in mathematics and human nature?

***

There were problems at Castreresone. The consuls had decided not to let any more refugees into the city, whether or not they had relatives inside. But those relatives could come out and talk. They could provide food and drink, blankets and clothing and such.

Castreresone had not yet fully recovered from its romance with the old Captain-General. The suburb called Inconje, where the big bridge crossed the Laur, had been abandoned by its original inhabitants. Now it housed a thousand refugees. Brother Candle saw many familiar faces. All were tired of travel and its constant fear. Many had lost everything to bandits.

Brother Candle’s group did not want to face those risks anymore, despite his assurances that they would be welcomed by Count Raymone Garete. Pettish, the Perfect told Raulet Archimbault, “I’m probably wrong about that welcome, anyway. He’s looking for people with some spine. People willing to help turn the tide of evil drowning the Connec.” He stopped. Kedle sneered at him from the shadows beyond the communal fire. Little Raulet snuggled under her left arm. The baby nursed at her right breast.

The old man left the fire, rolled himself into his blanket. He was well and truly lost. He was further from Perfection than most raw students. They were blessed with an eagerness to learn, to achieve salvation. Too much exposure to life had made him over into a cynical old man. He would have to go round the Wheel of Life several times to get back to where he had been, arriving at St. Jeules for the synod of the Perfects, not that long ago.

Come morning Brother Candle rose determined to go on alone. He had obligations to Queen Isabeth and Count Raymone. He was slow to get started, though. He dithered round the communal fire, snuggled Kedle’s baby and played with the toddler, found an excuse to exchange words with everyone before he finally hoisted his pack. By then it was nearly noon and it looked like he would spend his afternoon walking in the rain.

As he stepped off the east end of the Laur Bridge he spotted another familiar face. Or faces. The bandit Gaitor and his brothers, Gartner and Geis. Who were not thrilled to be recognized. They tried to slink away, hoping he would not follow. The Perfect shouted, “I’ll yell out everything.”

“Clever, that, Master.”

“What?” Heart hammering, he turned. Kedle was there with her donkey cart, children aboard. She had a spear in hand. “What are you doing?”

“Going with you. Stop arguing. Your friends are about to ditch you.”

“They aren’t friends. They’re men like the ones outside Homodel.”

“Then you’ll definitely need me to watch your back.” She yanked her donkey’s lead.

Brother Candle sighed. He would deal with this after talking to the bandit boys. “All right.”

He met Gaitor and his brothers on the riverbank thirty yards down from the remains of the tower that had protected the eastern approach to the bridge. They stared at Kedle. Her presence disinclined them to be rude or crude. Geis asked, “Who’s your friend?”

“Alazais Record. You don’t want to make her unhappy.”

“What do you want, Master?” Gaitor asked. Of the three he most obviously did not want to be seen talking with a Maysalean.

“I just wondered how you were doing. I wondered if you followed my advice and took your case to Count Raymone. You do look more prosperous these days.” He told Kedle, “Alazais, these people helped me during my last journey to Antieux.”

“They look like bandits.”

That struck a nerve with Gartner. “Not no more! We work for Count Raymone, finding real bandits and spies. And Society creeps.”

Gaitor and Geis gaped. Gartner seldom talked. Gaitor exploded, “Gart, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want him thinking we’re the kind of guys we used to be before we run into him, that’s all.”

Kedle’s infant began to fuss. A hunger fuss, Brother Candle realized. That baby was the unfussiest he had ever seen. Nor was Raulet ever inclined to be trouble. He was standing up now, looking over the side of the cart, taking everything in. It was easy to forget that Raulet was there.

Four men stood in numb silence while Kedle gave the baby the breast. With a spear still ready in her right hand.

Gaitor muttered, “You must be right, Master. Some kind of shield maiden. But not so maiden anymore.”

“You’ve gone honest, then.”

“Ninety percent. Definitely not doing anything to make the Count or his woman angry.”

Brother Candle said, “I need to get to Antieux. I have messages for the Count. I was traveling with a group of refugees from Khaurene. They’ve decided to stay here.”

“Her, too?”

Kedle had leaned her spear against her cart in order to deal with dirty nappies. The reformed bandits were no less intimidated.

“She says she’s coming. I hope she changes her mind.”

Meantime, Gartner took a couple careful steps toward Kedle. “You need some help with them bitties, missus?”

Startled, Kedle looked to Brother Candle for his opinion. He shrugged. “Up to you. He was good with his own children.”

“Miss them, too,” Gartner said, taking a couple more steps, careful not to alarm Kedle.

“He does,” Gaitor said. “We didn’t think we’d be out here so long.”

“You managed to settle your families?” Such as that desperate mob had been.

“There’s room for them as accepts the Count. That’s another thing we do. Spread rumors that Count Raymone will take on anybody that’s willing to give him as much loyalty as he gives. Lookit there.”

Gartner had taken a leather bucket from Kedle’s cart. He headed down the muddy riverbank. Then he and Kedle used the water to clean Raulet and the infant. Kedle accepted the help but never let Gartner get in snatching distance of her spear.

Gaitor asked, “How old is she? She don’t look near old enough to be so hard.”

Brother Candle tried to add it up. “Eighteen, nineteen.”

“No husband?”

“Not anymore. Took a crossbow bolt through the brain during the siege of Khaurene.” Soames was gone. No need to speak ill of him now.

Geis wanted to hear all about that.

Brother Candle offered a few sad details.

Gaitor said, “So when you hailed us you was really hoping you could con us into looking out for you on the road to Antieux.”

“I did have thoughts along those lines. Yes.”

“I don’t want to do it. We was just starting to fit in here. But after so many people seen us talking to you, with you being known for working for Count Raymone, I guess we ought to go away for a while. Let suspicions die down.”

“Your generosity …”

“Master, we owe you. Much as I wish we never ran into you. We couldn’t have got through last winter. It won’t take long, anyway. The roads are safe between here and Antieux. Them bandits who wouldn’t learn have been hunted out.”

Something came up between Gartner and Kedle. Sharp words. But the woman did not grab her spear.

Brother Candle warned, “Take care with Alazais. She’s volatile.”

“I noticed. Master, if we’re gonna travel together I need time to get ready. Can you wait till tomorrow?”

“If I must, I must.”

“At the end of the bridge at sunrise, then.”

Brother Candle inclined his head in acknowledgment. He went to speak soothing words to Kedle’s donkey. The poor, put-upon beast.

***

There were a few changes of heart. Kedle’s parents and her cousins Guillemette and Escamerole, plus Scarre the baker and his wife. Seven companions, obviously prosperous, of whom three were nubile women. Two probably virgins. How could Gaitor and Geis resist? The Perfect needed to forge an alliance with slow but essentially honorable Gartner.

Or, maybe not. Kedle equipped her cousins with several edged weapons apiece.

The bandits turned spies were waiting as promised. They were mounted. Not on the best of steeds, but mounted nonetheless. Gaitor asked, “How come there’s a bunch more?”

Brother Candle said, “They changed their minds.”

“They don’t look like much. All heretics, right?”

“True. But I’m the only one who isn’t a fighter.”

“Lot of women and old folks.”

“You can just say the hell with us.”

“I could. But then I wouldn’t have no excuse to go see my family, would I? What’s that?”

Some sort of disturbance had broken out across the Laur. It involved a lot of shouting and a few cheers. It did not sound like a riot.

Brother Candle said, “We’re ready to go but we might find out what that’s about. In case it affects us.”

Gaitor scowled. “You do something? Got the garrison after you?” There were people coming down from the White City. A Navayan garrison still quartered there.

“Not us. Unless the Society took over since we got up this morning.”

“Then it must be news. Big news.” He gestured at his brother Geis, indicating that he should investigate.

The rest started walking.

“How dangerous is this likely to get?” Raulet Archimbault asked. He was terrified on behalf of his grandchildren.

Gaitor said, “Shouldn’t be no trouble till we get close to Antieux. Count Raymone hunts down brigands who won’t join him. He’s quite stern. He’s more interested in stamping out banditry than in scrapping with the Captain-General. But Patriarchal patrols might be a problem near to Antieux.”

Archimbault said, “This new Captain-General doesn’t seem as vigorous as the old one.”

“There’s some of that,” Gaitor conceded. “Mostly he’s ineffective because of the Patriarch, though. Serenity has buried him in incompetents and people pushing their own agendas. He can’t get anything done on account of, no matter what he tries, somebody gets pissed off and wants him to do something else.”

“Good for us, then.”

“Exactly. The hard truth is, Pinkus Ghort would be worse than Piper Hecht if everybody backed off and let him.”

***

Geis did not catch up for two hours. Gaitor kept a good pace. When he did arrive Geis went to whisper with his brothers.

Kedle took station beside the cart where her weapons were stashed.

Gaitor announced, “Folks, there’s been a big shift in the world order. The Grail Empress has gone to war against the Patriarch. She blames him for the death of her husband, Jaime of Castauriga. She’s in Firaldia already, with the former Captain-General. I wouldn’t want to be in the Patriarch’s shoes right now.”

Brother Candle received that news with less joy than did the others. He knew such things became exaggerated. Likely the news would go through several serious transmutations before curdling into its historical form, which was sure to be its least dramatic shape.

Even in a tepid form, though, this was good news for the Connec. The Patriarchal forces harassing Count Raymone would have to be recalled. Faced with the wrath of the Grail Empire Serenity would have neither a man nor a ducat to spare for anything but self-defense.

***

The travelers reached country where Patriarchal troops had expressed their displeasure with Count Raymone.

Word was, the Captain-General’s initial instructions had been for Ghort to remain in place and waste the countryside. Then he had been directed to launch an all-out attack on Antieux. He refused. That would waste his soldiers’ lives. Given no other option, though, he had attacked, achieving the predicted results. His force had been decimated. It never came close to succeeding.

Then Serenity ordered the Captain-General back to Brothe, fast, collecting the full feudal levy of every Patriarchal State along the way. He was to accept no excuses and make no exceptions.