Lord Of The Silent Kingdom Part 31

Two more arrived, men who had fled earlier.

Princ.i.p.ate Delari transformed. A tired, slumping wreck of an ancient metamorphosed into a thing of power. He seemed taller than normal and much younger. His voice was stronger than ever Hecht had heard. "Come on into the light."

Nothing happened.

"Time to come in out of the darkness. You may not surrender to the Will of the Night."

Hecht felt a presence beyond the range of the lamps. And a man did come forward a moment later. Another Witchfinder who had fled earlier. He pretended Gryphen Pledcyk was invisible. He asked, "Where are Tomaz and Chollanzc?"

Delari gestured at the darkness. "Out there. You. There. Come in out of the darkness. It's not too late. The beast is dead. But another will come. Sooner or later, the Night will creep in. Come into the light. While you can."

Bronte Doneto stepped forward. He wore a monkish ca.s.sock like the others. He had his face covered. But Hecht recognized him even before he said, "You knew it was me."

"I suspected Honario, actually. No one else is so desperate to rewrite the world to conform to his own fantasies. Have you you convinced yourself that you can manipulate the Instrumentalities of the Night with impunity?" convinced yourself that you can manipulate the Instrumentalities of the Night with impunity?"

Doneto did not answer the question. "My cousin has a scheme. He'll destroy the Church before he's done."

"You surrender to the Will of the Night to rescue Mother Church from Sublime's insanity?"

How the devil had he made that leap? But Hecht was too stunned by Doneto's appearance to work that out- considering the fact that Delari would have observed Doneto all his life.

Delari said, "Don't be thinking what you're thinking, Bronte. You tell yourself, 'He's a thousand years old. He's got to be worn out after everything he's been through. There's six of us and one of him.' But the one of him is the Unknown. You have a touch of talent. But that's all you have. Come back into the light."

"Your own son..."

"Was a lord of the Brotherhood. And powerful before his mishap. But even in his deepest despair he never surrendered to the Will of the Night."

Hecht was not sure Delari was right about that.

"Come back into the light, Bronte Doneto. Explain what you were up to in Sonsa. Do what you need to do so you and your Witchfinders don't end up like Gryphen Pledcyk."

"You seem to have it all figured out."

"But I could have you all wrong, too. I'm thinking there might be an effort to keep Sublime from collecting his payoff from Anne of Menand. Or just to steal it. You've always been closer to Honario than you pretend to the rest of us. And you've always been less loyal than you pretend to him. Again, let me caution you against giving in to temptation. You aren't strong enough."

Hecht could see Doneto weighing his chances.

Muniero Delari made two sudden gestures. The man nearest him shrieked and collapsed into a violent seizure. A second shriek came from the rubbled darkness, from over Delari's right shoulder. A crossbow tw.a.n.ged. A bolt rattled around, never seen.

Everyone ducked. Except Princ.i.p.ate Muniero Delari. He did something. Two more Witchfinders collapsed. Quietly, this time.

The old man said, "And then there were three. Come back to the light, Bronte Doneto."

Princ.i.p.ate Doneto bowed his head in submission. Hecht considered that suspect. Princ.i.p.ate Delari would do so, too. And Doneto would understand that perfectly.

Pretense all the way round.

Delari asked, "What have you been doing, young Bronte?"

"You figured it out. We meant to scuttle Honario's plan."

That might be, Hecht thought. But there would be more.

Doneto's feigned surrender was a fiction that would bring this confrontation to an end with no harm done. Where it went later would hinge on how committed Doneto was to his schemes. And how clever he thought he was.

Delari said, "A thousand eyes will be watching, Bronte. Now that it's no secret who to watch."

Doneto stilled a surge of rage. He knew he was at a serious disadvantage.

"Better, sir," the old man said. "Invest some time in reflection on the quality of mercy. And on the prospect of its withdrawal. Sabotage your cousin if you will. But do it without invoking the Instrumentalities of the Night."

Doneto held his tongue.

Delari continued. "One thing more. Who is Vali Dumaine? How does she fit into your plot?"

Doneto seemed honestly baffled. "Do you mean the urchin your pet general adopted last fall?"

Princ.i.p.ate Delari stared at Doneto coldly. The power he exuded was palpable.

Doneto shook his head. "I have no idea who she is. She isn't involved."

That was not what Hecht hoped to hear but it was what he expected. Ghort would have mentioned Vali to Doneto. No doubt, Doneto had Ghort keep track of what was happening inside his life. Because he felt that Piper Hecht owed him. Maybe without Ghort knowing how he was being used. I I Maybe. Hecht trusted no one completely. Not even Anna. Anna had had other loyalties before she led him to her bed.

"You may go," Princ.i.p.ate Delari said. "We'll enjoy opportunities to consult further in the world above."

"The wounded? It won't be safe for them down here."

"Those two are recovering now. The others won't. If you feel a need to take them out you'll have to carry them."

Hecht squeezed down into shadow to avoid being spotted by two men headed out to collect the fallen crossbowman. He was drifting off when Delari called, "You can come out now, Piper."

Hecht shook off the drowsiness, shuffled forward. The Witchfinders had left their dead.

Delari saw him staring at Pledcyk. "They'll come to get him. I'm exhausted, Piper. If they had tried again they would've had me."

"You were bluffing?"

"I used myself up early so they'd expect the worst. You'll have to carry me."

"Where's your lantern?"

"No idea. Lost. Worry about it some other time. Work out how to do this. We need to be gone before Doneto realizes how weak I must be."

"Back the way I came?"

"Of course. They'll set ambushes on their route of retreat." Question time ended. The old man slumped into genuine unconsciousness.

Sergeant Bechter wakened Hecht. It was midmorning. He had managed a scant three hours of sleep. "You going to lie in all day, sir?"

"I was out all night. Because of the disaster."

Bechter raised an eyebrow. He had not seen his Captain-General out there. But he did not challenge Hecht. "The Bruglioni Princ.i.p.ate is here. He wants to see you. He's insistent. He talked to you about getting together last night. I suggested this morning would be good. He's been waiting for a while already."

Hecht granted. "What else is on the table today? What else am I late for?"

"We have a go-ahead for your joint unification proposal. The staff wants to get started. We have forty-three city militias used to doing things their own way. They need to be integrated into the overarching structure."

"That's a challenge I'm looking forward to." He believed he could ameliorate problems of ego and local chauvinism. "Bring Saluda in. I'll talk to him while I'm getting ready. By the way, how is Polo? Do we know?" The servant had had a long, difficult straggle with the wound he had suffered in the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt.

"I hear he's going home soon. To the Bruglioni. You and Colonel Ghort won a lot of goodwill, standing up for him."

It was a world of disposable people. But Sha-lug did not abandon their brothers, crippled or no.

Faith had to be kept both ways.

So long as that was not inconvenient for some fellow of lordly status, evidently. For Gordimer the Lion, say.

In the west they threw people away everywhere, every day.

"Remind Saluda that I can't give him much time."

The Bruglioni Princ.i.p.ate came in quickly. "Interesting times, eh?"

"A lot's happening. The new job seems to agree with you."

"I'm enjoying it. Paludan isn't. Several of his cousins insist that they're more qualified."

"That's unlikely."

"I heard you mention Polo. He came home two days ago. Singing your praises."

"Good. But is he welcome? He won't be much use with one hand."

"He'll be taken care of. There's work he can do."

"Good. But Polo isn't why you're here."

"Before you moved to the Chiaro Palace Divino gave you a bag of coins."

"He did. Yes. It got me through an uncomfortable transition."

"Was there a ring in the bag?"

Hecht frowned. The truth was, yes. What looked like a simple gold band till you held it to the light. "Odd question. Divino asked me the same thing. But there were only some old coins. All foreign or odd. I took the bag to a goldsmith and exchanged them for modern coinage. He probably robbed me. But it saved me having to deal with a different kind of coin every time I wanted to buy something."

"There was no ring?"

"I didn't see a ring. Why is it important?"

"It's a magic ring. So Divino believed. And Paludan still does. It's been in the family for ages. It's disappeared. All anyone can figure is, it must have been in that sack."

"I didn't see it."

"Neither did Hanfelder. So what became of it?"

"Who's Hanfelder?"

'The goldsmith. We tracked him down. A slimy Deve. He didn't seem to be lying."

"Now I'm nervous. You going to all that trouble. Over an heirloom."

"It's a magic ring."

"I got that. But what does it do that makes it important?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure Paludan does. Divino probably knew. But he died before he could tell anyone. We do know, though, that one of its qualities is to make you forget it."

"Forget it?"

"More like overlook. Then not be there when you remember and start looking."

"All right," Hecht said in a slow, skeptical drawl.

Saluda flashed a charming smile, not something he did frequently. "I know. I know. But I have to do what they ask. Even if it makes no sense to me."

"If this ring knows how to hide I'd find me a sorcerer I could trust and start hunting in Divino's apartment in the Bruglioni impound. It's probably hidden under his mattress."

Scowling, Saluda responded, "I'll pa.s.s that suggestion on to Paludan. I'm sure he hasn't thought of that."

"Just trying to be helpful, Princ.i.p.ate. Sergeant Bechter. What's on the schedule?"

"The consolidation program. There'll be local resistance."

"I think I know how to avoid some of the problems."

"Sir?"

We pander. To the local egos. If the Patriarch approves. If I sell Princ.i.p.ate Doneto he'll convince his cousin. There. I in ready. Was there anything besides the missing ring, Princ.i.p.ate?"

"Call me Gervase, Hecht. No. But that was important enough."