Surrender to the Will of the Night (66 page)

Akir prompted, “Your questions, General?”

“Your report was confusing. You had so much to say that you didn’t get it out in any sensible order.”

“And that would be the truth.”

The general did not push. Akir could not recall every critical fact if he became excited.

Nassim interspersed questions with comments about a remarkable meteor shower. “The angels are flinging death stones by the score tonight.” He wondered who and where the targets might be. The streaks of fire all headed west.

The Mountain’s efforts brought out news that would not reach his crusader neighbors for days, nor Indala for more than a week.

Three western kings were dead. The three who had crushed the flower of the manhood of al-Halambra. God is Great! The death of one had turned the Grail Empire against the Brothen Church. It now looked like the greatest of all invasions of the Holy Lands might be stillborn. God is Great!

The death of another king placed the heir to one throne right over there in Gherig. God is Great!

Nassim tried to winkle out what Else Tage might be doing along with the real prospects for the Grail Empress’s greatest of all crusades.

Surely she would set that aside, now. And once she fed her hunger for emotional equity, she ought to have no crusader spirit left. Right?

The history of the wars between the Patriarchs and the Grail Emperors was, largely, one of futility. The lords of the scores of little Firaldian polities played them one against the other. They had an interest in chaos. It inflated their importance.

Still … Much would depend on Captain Tage. He might be the man to shatter the deadlock so he could head east, to address his own grievances. Gordimer might survive Indala only to find himself chin to chin with the Grail Empire.

“Akir, tell me more about what happened at the place where they manufactured the firepowder weapons.”

Akir had nothing else to tell. He had had to flee before he could learn anything useful. “The critical point, General, is that the Grail Empire controls all those weapons and the craftsmen who make them.”

“My heart bleeds, Akir. No good will come of this.”

***

The Mountain knew almost to the instant when news of Regard’s death reached Gherig. Bells started ringing. Their clangor was annoying even at Tel Moussa’s remove.

Nassim had been awaiting the distraction. He began raiding immediately. He enjoyed some success, but only briefly. The Arnhanders of the region dashed inside their fortress. Gherig was like a tortoise pulling in head and legs. The foreigners regained their balance, then counterattacked.

Nassim hoped he could harass Anselin of Menand enough to keep him from leaving. The longer it took him to get home the more chance for chaos to breed there. Arnhand, more than any other infidel kingdom, fed and financed the crusader movement.

Anselin refused to be managed. He came out in force, scattered Nassim’s raiders, drove them back into Tel Moussa and the desert, then headed for the coast. Untroubled.

***

News came up from Dreanger. It was not good. Gordimer and er-Rashal had faked a withdrawal from Nestor. Indala and his generals had believed what they saw. Indala took half the remaining troops and scurried off to see al-Qarn. He was forty miles south of Nestor when the Sha-lug attacked the troops he had left behind. The surprise was complete. The slaughter afterward was very nearly so.

The Dreangerean success put Indala in a position where he
had
to win his war to survive politically.

His dead all had families to mourn them. Many had relatives of standing who could raise difficulties if they believed lives had been wasted. Further, the unity existing inside Qasr al-Zed did so because of the respect and admiration Indala’s family had inspired by their many successes. Indala must continue to succeed to retain that respect.

Following his triumph the Lion did leave Nestor. He used the great fleet ported at Iskendemea to leapfrog the mouths of the Shirne to that second greatest of Dreangerean cities. There he reorganized and refitted. His intent was to march up the west bank of the Shirne, hoping that Indala would come over and fight. The numbers lay with the Sha-lug and Dreangerean forces.

Indala had achieved most of his goals. He held al-Qarn. He had possession of Kaseem al-Bakr. In the Lucidian mode of thought that should have ended it. But Gordimer and er-Rashal gave those facts no special weight. They were annoyances. Inconveniences. They could be rectified.

The world awaited an outcome.

In the Holy Lands the lords of the Crusader states got ready to jump on the back of the winner.

***

The Mountain was drafting his monthly activities report for the clerks in Shamramdi when old Az appeared. “Big news, General. And it isn’t good.”

“Indala got his head handed to him?”

“No. Not that. That’s still in the hands of God. I’m talking about Queen Clothilde bullying Berismond into giving Gherig back to Black Rogert.”

“Oh.” Nassim sat in glum silence for more than a minute. Then, “What do we know? Where will he be coming from? And when?”

38. Vis Corcula, the Shades

It was a beautiful summer dawn in the Shades. It started chilly. That would change dramatically once the sun climbed high. It had rained off and on all night. A mist now concealed the wildflower-strewn ground out in front of Piper Hecht. Somewhere beyond that, a few miles downslope, lay the encampment of the army sent to clear Vis Corcula of this tumor called the Righteous.

Hecht, Titus Consent, and Rivademar Vircondelet had slipped down there in the darkness and rain. They had not gotten a good look because of the weather but what Hecht had seen assured him that he faced big numbers, entirely disorganized. Heris had been right about Serenity being able to roll out a large mob.

The rain had made hearing unreliable. They avoided getting too close, fearing they might stumble into a sentry post because they could not hear the sentries complaining about having guard duty in foul weather.

There had been a lot of fires, both inside of and outside a low stockade meant to manage sheep and cattle. The camp centered on a longtime livestock operation belonging to the Benedocto family.

Wherever Hecht wandered next morning, willfully alone, the soldiers watched nervously. They wanted to believe he could work a miracle. They wanted to believe they were the best of the best and invincible. But they were daunted by the numbers. A disparity still growing as more troops arrived down below. A plan was in place but was so weird the men did not believe it could be the real plan. It had to be a plan the Commander wanted the Patriarch’s spies to discover.

And that was true. With Hecht hoping the enemy gave it less credence than did his own men, who understood the concept despite its departure from doctrine.

Clej Sedlakova joined Hecht between hummocks that might have been faded recollections of prehistoric burial mounds. “They’re getting nervous, boss. You still haven’t told anybody the real plan.”

“Smoke and mirrors, Clej. That’s the way it stays. What our men don’t know those people down the hill can’t find out. Tell them to do what I say when I say it. What about the meadow?”

“It gets soggier by the minute.” Drainage was not good. Hecht saw several sheets of water, none deep enough to overtop the grasses and wildflowers but definitely deep enough to have gotten into his boots on his way back from scouting.

“Good. That’ll make the footing worse.” He licked a finger and stuck it in the air. “I don’t know about that, though. I can’t decide which way I’d rather have it blow.”

“Either way, somebody ain’t gonna be able to see shit.”

“Yeah. Send me Rhuk and Prosek.”

“Again? Haven’t you pestered them enough? They know what they’re doing. And they have plenty to do. Let them do it.”

“All right.” That used to be his strength. Giving a man a job, then letting him do it. “You’re right. They can handle the details. You’d better get going if you want to get there in time.”

“And if they don’t come today? Or if they just want to talk you into giving up?”

“If not today, tomorrow. They can’t have brought a lot of supplies. They didn’t have time to organize it. If they want to talk, I’ll talk. And be obviously stalling till my situation gets better.”

“You
want
them to come at us?”

“No. I want them to think that’s what I want. So they’ll be confused. And, maybe, not give me what I want. Oh, damnit! Go gently tell the Empress that it’s not good for her to be wandering around where a massacre could break out any minute.”

Katrin, in armor, roamed the slopes making a studied effort to connect with the soldiers. A cynical effort, to Hecht’s thinking.

“Will do,” Sedlakova said, not bothering to remind him that she would have heard it all from Captain Ephrian already. “She’s probably scaring the men more than giving them heart.” He left, humming a tune that had been a favorite of Madouc’s. If he spoke to Katrin Hecht missed it.

Hecht felt the ghost of a whisper of moving air. A soft voice asked, “You do intend to make a stand here, don’t you?”

Hecht tried and failed to hide his surprise. “Well. Hello. I thought you’d gone off to another world.”

Grinning, the man in brown said, “I did. I’m on holiday while your picky sister makes some arrangements. A detail-oriented girl, our Heris. She’ll do well as the Twelfth Unknown. If we survive all this.”

“We? You’re joining in here?”

“I was speaking generally. But, here? Yes. Good timing, eh?”

“Suspiciously.”

“Not so much. When Heris brought the latest news the Bastard and I decided we had to come back and add to the confusion. I’ve been around for a few days.”

“Really?” Hecht looked round to see who might have noticed the Ninth Unknown. The old man appeared to have generated no special interest.

“Two days. First I had to go over and make sure Heris’s falcons don’t end up in the wrong hands before the Aelen Kofer show up. Then I had to see Muno and poke around in the dark corners in Brothe. Not a pretty city, right now. Serenity is out to make it uniquely his own. Muno and his cohorts are undermining him.”

“What were you thinking of getting into here?”

“Mischief, dear boy. Malicious mischief. And lots of it.”

“Like?”

“Well, an invisible man can cause a lot of confusion. Orders could go astray. A general could say one thing and a captain could hear something else. There could be ghosts. Or Night things. Who knows? The options are infinite.” Februaren turned sideways, vanished. Then turned right back into being. “Forgot to tell you. They’re going to attack today. The first wave is on its way. They won’t parley. Their orders are to find you and overwhelm you, at whatever cost.”

“Not very sporting.”

“Serenity thinks like you, Piper. This is serious business. Time to go. People are starting to wonder.”

Terens Ernest and the self-anointed lifeguards arrived momentarily. Ernest demanded, “Who was that? Where did he go?”

Terens Ernest was a dangerous man. He was always around, somewhere. And Hecht seldom noticed. No telling what he heard and saw.

Ernest wilted under the glare of the Commander of the Righteous. He could not match Madouc’s immunity to his principal’s attitudes.

“A man who spies for me. Forget you saw him. Did I call for you? Any of you? You have assigned posts. You haven’t abandoned them, have you?”

The response consisted of nervous yak about being concerned. He was in the presence of a stranger, with no help close by. And it was not that long since he had proven that he was not arrow-proof.

Hecht stifled rising anger. It was unreasonable anger. These men should not be crushed for listening to their consciences. However much he found their concern inconvenient. “That will be all, then. Back to your posts. The enemy is coming. Terens, tell Mr. Rhuk and Mr. Prosek to attend me as quickly as possible.” This time he did have something new to say to those two.

***

“Quiet. I need to talk fast.” Prosek and Rhuk had fewer problems with his ways than did most of the others. Rhuk grunted. Hecht continued, “They’re coming. They’re not sure where we are. They expect us to be farther back than this but they don’t really care. Let’s make it a nasty surprise. Everyone wait till I light the candle. Everyone. Understood?”

Rhuk told Prosek, “I do believe the boss wants us to note an important point.”

“Yeah.”

“Can the smart-ass stuff. There won’t be any parley. Their orders are to swamp us and finish us. All. No exceptions. We’ll get through this only if nobody panics and everybody does his job. Pass that word and keep reminding them.”

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you. Go. I hear company coming now.”

There were no drums, no horns, no pipes, only the clang, clatter, and chatter of a mob of rowdy drunks.

Could that be?

Commanders in some armies did get their soldiers drunk before an attack. In the days of war elephants they got the beasts drunk, too.

Hecht jogged a couple hundred yards back, uphill, to the eminence whence he meant to observe and hoped to be seen by the attackers and thought to be a picket.

Seconds after he was in place the Ninth Unknown turned into being behind him. “They’re coming.”

“I hear them. Are they drunk?”

“Some may be. I did work a little mischief with that last night. Any of them who did any drinking will be sluggish and miserable by now.”

“How many are coming?”

“You don’t have enough fingers and toes to count them. Not all of you put together. But you do have an advantage. You didn’t have to hustle uphill for three miles with a hangover to get here.”

Most of the mist on the meadow had burned away. From this vantage the standing water was more obvious. There was more of that than Hecht had thought. But it was still seeping down off the surrounding slopes.

Shapes appeared in the mist beyond the meadow. In moments it was clear that Serenity’s force lacked all discipline. But they made a big crowd.

The Empress materialized as suddenly as had Cloven Februaren. Hecht started and looked around. The Ninth Unknown just stood there wearing a goofy half-wit look. Katrin brought Captain Ephrian and four lifeguards with her. Hecht could not help barking, “What are you doing here?”