Lord Of The Silent Kingdom Part 22

"There are two worlds, Piper. This is particularly true in the Church," Princ.i.p.ate Delari said. They were under the Chiaro Palace, overlooking the huge map. Hecht saw no obvious changes. "But it's true everywhere, every when. There's the raucous old world of everyday pa.s.sion, pain, and corruption. The one where we come of age, basically. Then there's the world few touch but which most are sure exists. That's the world of secret powers and secret masters. The silent kingdom. The silent kingdom shapes the raucous world without revealing itself. Just as surely as do the Instrumentalities of the Night, though with more direction and purpose. The silent kingdom hides in the secret s.p.a.ces between mankind and the Night."

Hecht asked, "This is a common belief amongst men of talent?"

Delari peered at him intently, sniffing after the thought behind the question.

"Some of us have a foot in the world between. Knowing about it only because we've been shown. Others, like our Special Office brethren, are too ideological to contribute."

"And get shown for no obvious reason? Because of the murky motives of those already inside?"

The curtain had been opened enough for one day. The Princ.i.p.ate changed topic. "Has the girl spoken yet?"

"Uh . . Vali?"

"Yes."

"Not where any adult can hear. She talks to Pella. Occasionally. Sometimes Pella deigns to tell us what's on her mind. Mainly, she's worried about what's going to happen to her. You find out anything about her?"

"No. There is a Vali Dumaine but she's Countess of Bleus. The wife of the Count who got into it with Anne of Menand. They don't have children. She's twenty-nine. Rumor says evil sorcery keeps her from conceiving. It also says Anne means to buy the Archbishop of Salpeno with the Dumaine honors."

"She's giving everything away."

"She's a determined woman."

"With everything to gain. I see that."

Hecht could not understand how one harlot could become so influential.

Delari mused, "She must be quite something in private."

"Curious?"

"Intellectually. I'd like to meet her."

"Uhm. But you can't hazard even a guess about where my Vali fits?"

"Beyond stipulating that circ.u.mstantial evidence suggests that she does, no."

"But if the Brotherhood of War was interested... Sir! I just had an unpleasant thought. A connection I didn't see before."

"Yes?"

The old man reminded Hecht of the pensioner instructors at the Vibrant Spring School, waiting for him to state a conclusion he had had trouble reaching.

"Sir, the people holding Vali were conspiring with the Special Office. Who sent me to the House of the Ten Galleons in the first place."

"So you've just realized that they must know where the girl is?"

"I'm a little dim sometimes, sir. I'm a fighting soldier, remember."

"Can you take it another step? Or two?"

"Sir?"

"Have they decided that it's better for Vali to be with you, out of sight, safe from people whose loyalties are commercial? Did they set you up to spirit the girl out of Sonsa?"

"I couldn't guess, sir. My thinking tends to be more linear."

"I understand. It's one of your charms. Quite possibly the main reason that Bronte Doneto recommended you to his cousin. You're a sharp blade that looks like it can be used with little danger of cutting both ways."

Hecht wished Gordimer the Lion believed that. "Maybe. But he also thinks he can manipulate me if he wants."

Delari grunted. "There's still another possibility, Piper. And it seems the most obvious and likely to me."

'Sir?"

'Did the girl just make up a story to win help getting out of an awful situation? Creating fict.i.tious personal histories isn't exactly unheard of, Piper."

"Uh... I'll ask Pella about that."

"Good. Do. There's nothing new here. Just more of the same, worsening at a frightening rate. Will all the water in all the seas end up part of the ice? Will even Firaldia go under?"

Hecht thought Firaldia would drown in refugees first.

The great map did show that there would be no quick, direct confrontation over Clearenza. The pa.s.ses to the heart of the Grail Empire were closed. A courier might make his way out of the continental heartland, but no armed force ould make the transit for months yet.

Hecht asked, "Do we know where Lothar and his sisters are?" Johannes Blackboots had preferred the Imperial cities of Firaldia, Plemenza in particular. He liked to stay close enough to tweak Sublime's nose when the mood took him.

"Hogwa.s.ser. In Lothar's case."

"Sir?"

"Sorry. Bad joke. Hochwa.s.ser. Means 'high water,' literally, but generally translates as 'flood.' The name goes back to antiquity. When it was called something else that meant the same thing."

Imperial times. Today it served as the headquarters for Hecht knew a little about Hochwa.s.ser because he claimed to have pa.s.sed through during his journey south from Duarnenia. It was a military city, of sorts, and had been since old Imperial times. Today it served as the headquarters of the Grail Emperor's lifeguard, the Braunsknechts.

The concept of even that limited a standing force found little favor among the Imperial n.o.bility. Anything that strengthened the Emperor necessarily weakened the n.o.ble cla.s.s.

Delari said, "Lothar is at Hochwa.s.ser. Katrin is either there or at Grumbrag. There's some doubt about Helspeth." The Princ.i.p.al gestured at the grand map. "Don't let that lull you. If Lothar decides something needs doing he has people here who can make our lives miserable. Follow me."

Hecht did so, down to the main floor, pa.s.sing monks and nuns engrossed in their work. One of the latter appeared to be extremely gravid.

Princ.i.p.ate Delari approached a heavy wooden door. Ancient, bound in spell-wrought iron, it looked capable of withstanding a.s.sault from barbarian or Night. A shelf in the stone to its right bore several old-time bra.s.s lanterns of the sort once carried by Imperial night couriers. They even had an Imperial seal on the adjustable shutter that controlled the amount of light emitted. Delari chose one, checked its fuel level, lighted it from a candle at the end of the shelf. Tallow spills showed that a candle burned there all the time.

"Open the door, Piper."

The door was not locked, latched, or barred. Hecht pulled. It opened.

Cold, damp air greeted him. It smelled of raw sewage and very old death.

"The catacombs?"

"Exactly." Delari nodded. "They're real. Take a lantern yourself. Never come down here without one."

"I don't want to be down here at all. Not if half the stories are true."

"They aren't. But the reality can be worse. The light from these lanterns repels things of the Night."

Hecht sorted through the lanterns. They all seemed fully fueled. He took the heaviest on the theory that it would last the longest. He lighted it, tried to look ready. If go he must.

Delari chuckled. "Remember, down here, as in the world above, the worst monsters go on two legs and have mothers who love them."

Why would we we want to be down here?" want to be down here?"

"Sometimes a man needs to move around without being seen." That sounded too pat. "What about your mother?"

The Princ.i.p.ate had moved into the tunnel, which was lined in stone set without mortar, using an Old Brothen technique. The question caught Hecht off guard. "Sir?"

"I was curious about your mother."

Hecht temporized, trying to recall anything he had told anyone about the woman. "I expect she'd agree with most mothers. Piper is a good boy. He didn't mean any harm. He couldn't possibly do anything bad. I didn't know her, though, sir. She died when I was quite young. Childbed fever."

"And your father?"

"He was a good Chaldarean. In Duarnenia that means he got to heaven early. I don't remember him at all. They say he came home just often enough to keep my mother pregnant."

Delari seemed amused. He did not pursue the subject. 'The catacombs here belong to us." He did not define "us."

"They're safe. Most of the time. There are wards. And watchers. Not much gets past. But you can't count on being safe. Always Always carry your own lantern." carry your own lantern."

The footing grew damper. The stone had been plastered at one time. The plaster had fallen into the muck underfoot.

The Princ.i.p.ate said, "We're near the Teragi, but deeper down. We could visit the Castella or Krois. Or cross over to the north side, if we wanted. But that isn't something you need to know how to do yet."

Hecht muttered, "This is real silent kingdom country." He saw no evidence of life. No rats. No spiders. No vermin whatsoever.

"You're uncomfortable."

"I don't like tight places. Tight places underground are worse."

Delari chuckled.

Evidently he found everything humorous today.

Hecht asked, "Where are the vermin?"

"Cruel things roam down here. They don't care what they eat. Including you and me if they could catch us."

"That's no help."

Delari chuckled yet again. "You're in the underworld now, Piper. Like in the old mythology."

"I'll keep an eye out for black rivers and blind boatmen."

"If he was down here for real he'd get knocked in the head and robbed of the pa.s.sage money."

"You're so rea.s.suring. Where are we going?"

"Nowhere in particular. I'm suffering from an inclination to share Collegium secrets." Delari turned left into a cross tunnel. That led to a huge chamber. The lanterns revealed no farther walls, only ranks of ancient colonnades marching off into the darkness. It looked like an abandoned cathedral at midnight. A cathedral abandoned for ages. Debris lay everywhere. The lantern light took on a blue-white hue. Everything appeared in shades of bluish gray. Dust was thick and cobwebs ubiquitous.

And there were bones. Bones great and small, everywhere. Ugly bones, some of them. Bones that Hecht did not find familiar. Perhaps bones not human. There was little odor of decay.

Delari said, "Flesh doesn't last long enough to putrefy down here."

Some larger bones had been broken, presumably to expose the marrow.

"Another silent kingdom."

"Not always. Though it is now. Bats sometimes establish colonies that don't last. Sometimes pagans celebrate demonic rituals. Which is an ironic twist. This is where the earliest Chaldareans got together to wors.h.i.+p and to hide their dead. Now the demon wors.h.i.+pers use the far end, over there. And break into the crypts to get bodies to use in their wicked rites."

"Really? How do they do that?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do they do with the bodies? There was a story I heard when I was little. Overheard, actually, and only part of it, because I was supposed to be asleep. The storyteller claimed it came out of the Grand Marshes and every word was true. It was colorful. But he only got to the part where the three brothers who were the heroes were coming home with the mummies of some old-time sorcerers when I started sneezing. I got whipped and sent to bed and never did find out why they wanted the mummies in the first place."

Delari's frown was obvious, despite the lighting. "This was a story?"

"Up north we have traveling storytellers. Like jongleurs down here. Only they don't usually sing. And they don't tell love stories. They're really grim hero stories, mostly. They always claim the stories are true, but mostly you know better. This storyteller-I can't remember his name-was famous for scary stories. This one about stealing mummies sounded real."

"Mummified sorcerers, you say?"

"Yes, sir." Had he said too much?

"Interesting. Tell me more."

"Sir?"

"Who were the heroes? Where did they go for their mummies? Who were the dead men?"