Surrender to the Will of the Night - By Glen Cook Page 0,87

Now he could feed the rage that had festered since the Connec humiliated and nearly killed him.

“I’m not comfortable,” Titus Consent said. While coming off the Blendine Bridge, watching Brotherhood members turn upstream toward their Castella dollas Pontellas. Leaving the former Captain-General without his lifeguard.

“As they tell us, be careful what we wish for.”

“Yes?”

“I resented every minute that Madouc was underfoot. Now he’s not.”

More than a hundred men did remain with them, headed the same direction. “We’ll be good for now. Later, maybe not so much.”

“Uhm. Pella. Stick close.”

A mile on, nearing their own neighborhood, with only a handful of friends close by now, Titus asked, “Made a firm decision yet?”

“What?” Hecht had been daydreaming about Anna. And the girls. Then, bemused, reflected that his true home and family were somewhere in the slums of al-Qarn. Possibly. What horrors might time, poverty, disease, Gordimer, and er-Rashal have worked there?

“About what’s next. You going to buy that vineyard? Or become Empress Katrin’s war tiger?”

“Oh. No you don’t. I’m not deciding anything now. It’s time for some plain old lazy drifting.”

Titus just smiled. He knew. The decision had been made, though Hecht’s motivations might not be clear. Even to Hecht himself.

The former Captain-General meant to head north, out of the Patriarchal States, possibly forever.

News of their coming had run ahead. Anna and the girls were out, waiting with Noë Consent and her brood. And with Heris. The Consents left immediately. Hecht went into Anna’s house. He had one answer for all of the first dozen questions. “I’m tired. I’m exhausted. Later.”

Pella took up the slack. He had plenty to say. And was disappointed when Anna and the girls did not share his enthusiasm for falcon warfare.

Again, “I’m so tired. I just want to vegetate. I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to do anything.” That directed to Heris, who had hinted already that Principaté Delari wanted to see him. “Brothe and everybody got along fine without me. And can keep right on doing without me. Anna. Stop scurrying around. Come over here. Sit by me. Let me drink you in.”

Anna did so, managing to blush.

Leaning against her, sleepily, Hecht considered Lila and Vali. “What’s happened with the girls? Other than Vali filling out and both of them wearing better clothes?”

“School. The nuns on the girls’ side of Gray Friars.”

“Uhm?” A questioning grunt that Anna interpreted correctly. How had she managed to get two girls of questionable antecedents into so exclusive an academy?

“Your name and Principaté Delari’s. Plus a surprise legacy from Hugo Mongoz.”

“Hugo Mongoz? But …”

“Not money. Influence. Bellicose found a letter among his papers. Instruction to an illegitimate grandson that didn’t get sent before he died. In it he claimed he owed you a big debt. Not saying why. He wanted the grandson to repay you. The grandson is a monk at Gray Friars. So there you go.”

“Oh. I guess that’s good. Heris. Heris?”

Vali looked past Pella, said, “She did that turn sideways trick, Dad.”

Lila said, “I wish I could learn how to do that. I’d get rich.”

Anna told her, “You are rich. Your father has gathered up more prize money than the rest of us can spend in three lifetimes.”

Hecht laughed. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“What are you going to spend it on? And none of your nonsense about vineyards and latifundia. What you know about agricultural management I could tuck into a thimble with room left over.”

“You think? I’d surprise you, heart of my heart. I spent a long time in prison in Plemenza. The only way to pass the time was read old texts about farming.”

That gave Anna pause for scarcely an instant. “Which means nothing, practically. You’ll never be a farmer.”

“You could be right. We need to talk about that. But not now. I just want to wallow in the luxury of having no demands on me.”

“Oh, there are going to be demands. But first you’re going to have a long wallow in hot, soapy water.”

The girls had Anna’s big copper bathing tub set up already, with water heating. Anna would not use the public baths. Nor would she let the children. A safety measure, that. She said. But Hecht suspected there was more to the story. She would not discuss it. It was not worth a squabble.

Settled in the tub, with females dumping warm water and Pella contemplating making a break for it, to avoid being next, Hecht observed, “The one thing I’ll miss, being on the outside, is the baths at the Chiaro Palace.”

“Really?”