the Empire. The same was not happening in the Patriarchal States.
News of the slaughter in the Shades spread fast and grew with the telling. People who should have known better took the wildest stories as gospel.
The whisperers of Krois murmured canards against the Empress and her Commander of the Righteous: They had surrendered to the Will of the Night. There would have been no disaster had not all darkness answered the conjuring of the witch queen and her mercenary familiar.
Journeymen rumor-tinkers of an opposing view charged Serenity with consorting with the Night and with being the man behind the monster that kept returning to the catacombs, however often the good Principatés put it down. Those accusations found the popular mind more welcoming. Almost as far back as the collapse of the hippodrome there had been gossip connecting Bronte Doneto with events in the underground world.
Such was the news Cloven Februaren brought back from his Brothen visits, where his espionage was less subtle and clever than Heris’s had been.
He enjoyed sabotage too much.
* * *
Clej Sedlakova surfaced after three days. Only eighteen men accompanied him, most all injured. They had been ambushed by an enemy who had known they were coming. Sedlakova and these men were the last survivors of a long running fight.
* * *
The Righteous buried their dead. They examined their firepowder weapons for defects. They brought up ammunition and supplies, and welcomed further reinforcements.
The Commander of the Righteous twice eluded halfhearted advances by the Empress. Her self-control seemed to be slipping again.
Hecht was not alone in noticing.
Rivademar Vircondelet stuck his head into the tented space Hecht had taken in the Patriarchal camp. Vircondelet had begun to assume some of Titus Consent’s duties as Consent became more intimate with field command. “Captain Ephrian is begging to see you, boss. Can you spare a minute?”
“Send him in, then.”
Ephrian came bearing bad news.
“Sit, Captain, and tell me the problem.”
“The Empress. Of course. I can’t take much more. She won’t cooperate. She will do what she wants, when she wants.”
“Kind of goes with the job.”
“I understand that. I remember how Johannes could get. But he was never like her. No matter what happens, it’s never her fault.… That goes with the territory, too, some. Right?”
“Most of the time.”
“Here’s the problem. She’s into one of her downward spirals. It might be the worst since the Prince was stillborn. We’ve tried the usual gimmicks. I’ve worn my butt out taking her riding. That works better than anything. She loves a good gallop. Not this time, though. I’m scared she’ll do something to damage or embarrass herself.”
“What can I do?”
“I don’t know. She won’t listen to me when she isn’t out of her head. She does listen to you, sometimes.”
“Really? I must have missed that.”
“I did say sometimes.”
“An odd duck, our Empress.”
“She’s more like a frightened girl. She lets childish emotions drive her. These black moods … They keep getting worse. She could cause problems we’ll never get over. Something bigger than invading a friendly empire or declaring war on the Church.”
Interesting. “We aren’t at war with the Church, Captain. We’re at war with Serenity. That might sound like a minor distinction but the difference is critical.”
“Serenity believes he is the Church.”
“A common flaw of Patriarchs. What would you have me do with our flawed mistress? I’m a hired sword who’s overstepped his bounds already.”
“I don’t know. I said she listens to you sometimes. I hoped you’d have some inspiration.”
“Captain, I’m not that imaginative. The magical way to make everything right got past me. I wish she’d lasted a little longer. Mid-campaign is a bad time for your employer to lose her mind.”
“Just be warned. She might turn strange.”
“I’ll think about it. I promise. Now, I do have an order of march to ready.”
Ephrian made a face but said nothing. He knew that in no practical sense could the Righteous attack Brothe. The city was too big. And even an unpopular Patriarch had vast resources.
He had found seventeen thousand men willing to go into the Shades.
Hecht really just wanted to become a presence that dared not be ignored while the might of the Empire gathered. He wanted to become a symbol to all Brothens currently disgruntled with their Patriarch. A hope in the mist.
The heavy lifting would be done by armies from beyond the Jagos.
There were skirmishes all across Firaldia. Whatever the feudal obligation of a given city, principality, or kingdom, some citizens or subjects held the opposing view and were determined to regularize their