Surrender to the Will of the Night - By Glen Cook Page 0,208

ask about him.

Februaren observed, “It’s over, Piper. They’ve given up. You might still hear from the Night, though. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few of your toys charged up with godshot, just in case. Take care of that, then I want you to take a walk with me.”

“Why? Where to?”

“Down there. To talk to people from the other side.”

“Should I ask you questions?”

“You can if you like. You may not get the answers you want to hear.”

“What I figured. Titus!”

“Sir?”

“How are you feeling? How’s the arm?”

“They say I’m going to live. Only fourteen stitches but it aches like hell.”

“Good to hear. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Februaren grumbled, “I don’t want to intrude on a budding romance, but …”

“Just making sure Titus is fit to join us. Titus, you can carry a truce flag, can’t you?”

“If you insist.”

“Good. It’s a sure thing that there’ll be people we know down there, one way or another.” Hecht shook a finger at the Ninth Unknown. “My way, old-timer.”

Februaren scowled but did not argue.

Hecht asked, “Is this likely to take long? I haven’t eaten all day.”

“You should take better care of yourself. Grab a loaf, cheese, and sausage and let’s go. You can nibble along the way. It’ll be slow going.”

“That’s all right. I can wait.” The scenery would not be appetizing.

The old man snickered.

Hecht thought the Ninth Unknown was on his way to becoming something more than human. Was there such a thing as an apprentice ascendant? Like an accidental ascendant? Unaware of his status?

Asgrimmur Grimmsson could be presented in evidence.

Frowning, Titus went to work rounding up lanterns and lifeguards.

* * *

Titus said, “Our new weapons do terrible things.”

Terens Ernest, swollen proud to be accompanying his commander, said, “Not worse than swords and axes. Praise God, they didn’t come at us on horseback. I couldn’t stand it if we had to kill a couple thousand horses.”

Cloven Februaren snorted but did not otherwise express an opinion.

Hecht said, “The real horror is how fast and impersonally we can kill. Some of those men firing falcons never saw the enemy up close. And guys like Prosek and Rhuk will keep finding ways to reach out farther, faster, and more accurately. They love the challenge. They never think about it in human terms.”

This was the bloodiest battlefield of his acquaintance. There were many bloodier encounters on record, a few quite recent: Los Naves de los Fantas and what had taken place outside Khaurene. But there was an industrial feel to what had happened here that he found disquieting.

Titus asked, “What will Serenity do when he hears about this?”

“He’ll spew Writs of Anathema. Of Excommunication. Bulls of all sorts, blustering. Blaming everyone but himself. He’s turning into his cousin.”

The Ninth Unknown would not remain silent. “And no one will take him seriously anymore because he’s showing such a great talent for looking as goofy as Sublime. He’s not that blind and dishonest but we’ve had some straight-arrow Patriarchs for contrast. He looks like a throwback. What’s happened here could finish him with the Brothen mob.”

Hecht did not believe that. Bronte Doneto was much too crafty. “How about we concentrate on the moment?”

He was nervous. The darkness seemed unnaturally deep. The lanterns did not push it back to a comfortable distance. The killing field stank of spilled bowels and coagulated blood and flesh already corrupting. He kept tripping over dead people. The nasty water got inside his boots. He was hungry and his head had begun to hurt. Though the altitude was high and the air was chilling the sounds of insect wings seemed like the hum of primitive death gods at their after-the-fighting chores, like those old devils he had finished off in the Connec.

His amulet declared the night free of all but the most trivial Instrumentalities.

He was nervous about the possibility of imminent treachery. Titus had a bum right arm. The Ninth Unknown was older than the ground underfoot. Terens Ernest was an unknown quantity. Rivademar Vircondelet considered himself a lover, not a scrapper.

Consent, Vircondelet, and Ernest were along because they felt mistrusted and left out. So. This time they had a chance to be there when the hammer came down.

He did not introduce Cloven Februaren.

Other than Titus, who was burdened with the truce flag, everyone carried a lantern. Hecht, Ernest, and Vircondelet also carried spears and a standard array of sharpened iron. The spears proved useful in dealing with the treacherous footing.

The Ninth Unknown had armed himself with a foolish grin.

These five were