Surrender to the Will of the Night - By Glen Cook Page 0,218

did much bleeding.

The man in brown gave those who tried to leave first priority, picking off ringleaders and those tormenting Turking when there were no would-be escapees. Lastly, he worked on isolated looters.

He was determined to make a statement not to be forgotten.

He worked at murder quickly and efficiently, but with less success than he had hoped. So many transitions left him disoriented. Then some raiders did manage to get away.

The Ninth Unknown kept at it the best he could, till he calmed down enough to recall that he had left Lila with Piper. If she translated into the town house …

The last invader fled. Februaren turned to the fallen. He discovered that Felske was not dead, just badly mauled and unconscious, her honor uncompromised. Turking had suffered more physical damage.

Februaren’s healing skills were slight but he did what he could. And worried about Muniero and Mrs. Creedon.

Snicker. Maybe they eloped.

Principaté Delari returned shortly before sunrise. He did not ask what had happened. The obvious declared itself. He went into a cold rage so fierce that it made the Ninth Unknown uncomfortable. “Take it easy, Muno.”

“I’m under control. Angry enough to chew granite, but under control.” He glared around. “We need to get going with the cleanup and repairs. How are those two?”

“They’ll live. And recover nicely if you get a healer in soon. Any idea what became of Mrs. Creedon?”

“No. Sometimes she goes to help with her mother, who’s dying. I’ll get the healer in a minute. What about Lila?”

“She didn’t come back here. I assume she went straight to Anna.”

“Make sure. Did you inspect the quiet room?”

“No. Been keeping these two breathing. And chasing off people who want souvenirs.”

* * *

Bronte Doneto’s habit was to keep his private life private and well separated from his public life. He had neither wife nor children, but like most high churchmen, he had a mistress, the little-known Carmella Dometia. He kept Donna Carmella in a comfortable house close by his own city home. Carmella’s husband’s career kept him overseas, in Hypraxium of the Eastern Empire, where, till recently, he had overseen Benedocto commercial interests. Fortune smiled upon Gondolfo Dometia when the Interregnum ended and Serenity assumed office. Gondolfo became Patriarchal ambassador to the Golden Gate. Which he would remain as long as Bronte Doneto sat the Patriarchal throne.

Serenity’s fortune did not shine as brightly upon his beloved.

Donna Carmella seldom saw her lover. Not that she minded. She had a limited appetite for men. Doneto was not blind to that but loved her nonetheless. She was, perhaps, the only soul outside himself that he did love.

Donna Carmella maintained a staff of four. Much of the time a small guest suite housed a woman who shared her peculiar tastes, though seldom the same woman for long. Carmella Dometia’s infatuations did not last. Her passions were blistering but brief.

Donna Carmella wakened in the heart of a night when she had set extra wards because of unrest in the city. Her connection with the Patriarch might be unknown to the mob but it was no secret in Collegium circles, where Serenity’s enemies were found.

The extra wards did no good. Death came calling.

He wakened her himself.

She was more startled than frightened. Her visitor was old and shabby and frail. He smelled like he had not bathed in weeks.

“Who?… What?”

“Your good friend made a lethal mistake, sad, beautiful lady. He tried to have murder done. Failure doesn’t absolve him. I shan’t be as cruel as his emissaries.”

A lightning thrust drove a slim blade in under a generous breast.

* * *

The old man drifted from room to room. He left no one alive. The message had to be as loud as the blare of a brass trumpet beside the ear.

He left six human corpses, two dead dogs, two dead parrots, and a dead cat. Then he conjured forth rats and mice to make clear the full extent of his displeasure.

He was in the kitchen, dealing with the last rat, when he sensed life sparks down below.

Had someone hidden in the cellar?

No. Some unanticipated victims of Bronte Doneto were imprisoned down there. People with special significance to the man who had taken the miter. People whose fate he wanted kept hidden from everyone but himself and his wicked woman.

The assassin knew regret. Regret that he had slain the woman who had the answers before he discovered the need to ask her questions.

* * *

The Ninth Unknown turned into being inside the main dining room of the Delari town house.