Surrender to the Will of the Night - By Glen Cook Page 0,8

from the Holy Lands. You and I have been involved in two crusades, now. Neither overseas.”

Madouc’s anger at his principal had transformed itself into anger at his own order.

“Have you asked?”

“No.”

“You should. A man ought to do God’s work in a way that comforts his soul. He’ll do a better job.”

Madouc had nothing to say about that.

“I suppose I ought to start getting ready.”

“Sir?”

“Letter from the Empress. Commanding me to attend her in privy audience. After the evening meal. That’s all I know.”

“There’s one thing you need to address. We caught that man Bo Biogna trying to sneak in here. I know you go back a way so I’ll defer to your judgment. He’s been asking a lot of questions about you, here, in Hochwasser, and elsewhere.”

“Principaté Delari warned me about this. Principaté Doneto considers me a traitor to his personal cause. He wants to find something bad about me from before we saved him that first time in the Connec. I’ve given him no ammunition since. Except by faithfully serving each employer instead of being his secret agent.”

“Will he find anything?”

“I doubt it. I never stayed anywhere long. As soon as I got up a stake, I headed farther south. Well, wait. I did steal a sack of turnips once, right after I started. Some bullies took my knife and cheese.…” He stopped. Madouc was astonished, hearing him open up. “Where is Bo? I know exactly what he was up to.”

* * *

“Hard times?” Hecht asked when Biogna came in. Bo was never a big man. The rags he wore hung loose. Hecht recalled them when Biogna filled them out.

“Yeah, Pipe. How’s it going?”

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Been going some cold, harsh places.”

“So I hear. You know you got Madouc’s guys all flustered.”

“I just wanted to see Joe. I heard he was here with you.”

“I thought so. I sent for him. You’ll understand if we don’t give you the run of the place. These others don’t know you like I do.”

Biogna’s gaze turned furtive for a moment.

Hecht asked, “You run into anything interesting up north? Like wild riders with animal skulls braided into their hair?”

“Nothing that outrageous. Just the Night being busier than it used to. You’d better carry some charms if you need to go out after dark. It gets worse the farther north you go.”

“Find out anything interesting about me?”

Biogna grimaced. “You didn’t stay anywhere long. Hardly anybody remembers you. But there’s always good things about you in the records.”

“I wanted to get to Brothe. I worked when I needed money. When I ran into you guys was the first time I let myself get distracted from my goal.”

“Paid off, though. For all of us. Especially you and Ghort.”

His good humor abandoned Hecht briefly. It had not worked out for most of the men of their little band. They were buried near Antieux.

“Yeah,” Biogna said. “For them as survived that nonsense. And Plemenza, afterward. We ain’t doing so bad. Hey! I met your brother.”

Hecht could not have been more startled if Biogna had pulled a knife. “What?”

“Your brother. Tindeman. You mentioned him a couple times.”

“But he’s dead.”

“Looked pretty healthy to me. Gone gray in the hair, though. And he’s got a nasty purple scar across his face that makes it hard for him to talk. But he’s alive and kicking. He’s an artillery engineer in Grumbrag.”

Hecht was too surprised to improvise. How could the Ninth Unknown have placed live people to support his backstory?

“You seem overwhelmed,” Biogna observed.

“I am. I’ve never been so surprised. I always thought I was the only one left. The fighting was really awful that year. Almost everyone on the Grail Order side was killed. Even if the Sheard were broken.”

Hecht was saved the need to dissemble further by the arrival of Bo’s friend, Just Plain Joe.

Joe was a big, slow, dull man with a genius for managing animals. Though he was a private soldier—Joe wanted no more responsibility—Hecht considered him one of his dozen key men. Joe knew animals. The Patriarchal army could not operate without countless animals if he wanted it to remain an effective, modern force.

Joe had cleaned up. Which explained why it had taken him so long.

Hecht said, “Look who’s here.”

“Yeah. They told me. Hey, Bo. Hey! You don’t want to get too close. I didn’t get that clean.”

“Look at me, Joe. Do I look like I’m ready for parade?”

Hecht called for food and refreshments. His lifeguards watched, carefully blank, while one of the more powerful men in the Episcopal world