Surrender to the Will of the Night - By Glen Cook Page 0,43

had been reconstructed sufficiently that a partial racing season was set for the coming summer. Street politics would come along with. Had begun already and were in abeyance only because the Patriarchal garrison was intolerant of disorder.

Hecht said, “I’ll enjoy it from afar. If it gets to be too much, come see me. The militias of the various Patriarchal States desperately need reorganization.”

“Thought you already did that.”

“I tried. Against a lot of inertia. A couple more tries, I’ll get them hammered into a tool that’s ready to use when I need it.”

Something flickered behind Ghort’s eyes. A shadow. A thought he did not care to share. “I’m glad I’m not at the tip of the spear no more. Here I’ve got some control over my life. I can squirrel away a little wealth.”

Hecht filed that for consideration. That would be Pinkus Ghort expressing shadow thoughts as plainly as he dared.

* * *

Hecht had a row with Pella. The boy did not want to stay behind. Hecht ended it. “I promised Anna. I keep my promises. If your studies don’t keep you out of trouble, Principaté Delari can find something for you to do.”

* * *

Madouc visited Hecht in his office in the Castella. “Captain-General.”

“Madouc.” Coolly. Displeasure carefully constrained.

“I want to withdraw my resignation. If you will permit.”

“What’s changed, Madouc? I’ll never be any different.”

“I understand. I was tired and frustrated. The trip to Fea, with all that bad weather, broke me. I’ve had time to get over it.”

Hecht had not replaced Madouc. It was not a pressing concern. “All right. Get caught up.”

“Thank you, Captain-General. I’ll try to be less prickly.”

* * *

Cloven Februaren told Hecht, “Addam Hauf told Madouc to come back. He got bumped up two stages inside the Brotherhood hierarchy and proclaimed chief observer of Piper Hecht. You’ll see some changes among your lifeguards. Several who aren’t Brotherhood will go. Others who are will be replaced by men less captivated by you personally.”

“Ah. So now I’ll be like the old-time emperors. Protected from everything except my protectors.”

“Seems to be the idea.”

“I shouldn’t have let him come back.”

“Better the devil you know.”

“Possibly.”

“Take care. I won’t be around much anymore. Other chores need my attention.”

Hecht said only, “I’ll miss you, then.”

“The Connec should present no special challenges. Just be alert. And let Madouc do his job. He’s good at it. When you let him be.”

“I get the message.”

* * *

The Captain-General undertook one last unpleasant chore before leaving Brothe. In company with his lifeguards he rode out to a small Bruglioni estate southeast of the Mother City.

Gervase Saluda had recovered some. He now occupied a wheeled chair. A blanket covered his lap. “To hide the fact that they took my left leg,” he said in response to Hecht’s glance. “Gangrene.”

“I hadn’t heard.”

“You’re a barrel of surprises, Captain-General. I never expected you to come out here.”

“I’ve moved on but I do owe the Bruglioni. Without you I’d be just another sword looking for work.”

“I doubt that. The gods themselves watch over you.”

Not a particularly apposite remark from a Prince of the Church. But Hecht was not treating Saluda as a Principaté.

“I have been lucky. And the Bruglioni haven’t. What will you do now?”

“Recover. And try not to turn bitter.”

“For the family. You understand? You are the Bruglioni, today. I hear Paludan hasn’t died, but isn’t much alive anymore, either. He can’t manage anything. His surviving relatives aren’t going to do the Bruglioni any good. Which, I should think, puts you in a fix.”

There was pain in Saluda’s expression. He had not yet shaken his physical distress sufficiently to explore his future.

“You’re the Bruglioni Principaté,” Hecht said. “But will that last if there isn’t a Bruglioni family behind you? The other families don’t love you.”

“I know. They think Paludan chose me because I was his lover. That’s not true. Or because I have some unnatural influence over him. Never because I was the best available.”

“You were the best. You’re still the best. But if Gervase Saluda doesn’t step back from the Collegium and take charge of the Bruglioni fortunes, the family is going to collapse.”

After a moment, Saluda said, “I should just roll this chair onto the Rustige Bridge and right off into the Teragi.”

“A simple solution but not the one I hope to see.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll help if I can. For what good that is, with me away in the Connec.”

“Oh. Good on you.” Saluda looked skeptical.

* * *

The Captain-General reached Viscesment at the head of troops numbering several hundred more than