Surrender to the Will of the Night (17 page)

It would explain a good many puzzles.

“Wait here,” Februaren told the whale.

“How long?”

Not where was he going, nor how could he get there from the middle of the water, but the most basic, literal question.

“For as long as it takes to open the way. Eat if you get hungry.” He saw seals at play in the distance. There must be land of some sort nearby.

Was the whale the kind that ate seals?

“But stay close.”

***

Asgrimmur Grimmsson’s reports were so detailed the Ninth Unknown managed to build a fine, if colorless, picture inside his head. Hand in hand with terror he took hold of the hidden strings of the Construct and stepped into what might turn out to be eternity. He could not know if it was possible to slip into the other world until he tried. He could not know — granted success breaking in — if he could get back out if he could find no means of opening the way from within.

Cloven Februaren was two hundred years old. More or less. He had taken risks before. But never quite so blindly, betting against such unpredictable odds.

He took the first step still wondering what secret need compelled him to engage in such blatant folly.

There was the sense of walking through starless, frozen night that accompanied every romance with the Construct. Then he was awash in a silvery light.

The Aelen Kofer must have scrubbed out all the color before they went away.

Cloven Februaren found himself inelegantly sprawled on a stone quayside, facing a mountain. A harbor lay behind him. One lone ship rode alongside the quay. It could have been a ship of legend. But even the legendary suffered from neglect.

That whole world had suffered from neglect.

Where were the Aelen Kofer? He had expected dwarves — though the ascendant thought those might have sailed away in the golden barge of the gods. But what ship, then, moldered at quayside?

“Should have paid more attention to my mythology studies,” Februaren grumbled. The dwarves had not been seen in the human world. Ergo, they must have stolen away into another of the realities to which this world was connected.

Were there not several such overlapping realms involved in the northern cycle? The land of the giants, the world underground, a frozen land of the dead, somewhere where elves ran rampant?

What did it matter? He was here. He was alone. He had to go on from there.

He needed to open the way. It did not look like there was a lot of food lying around. The contents of his knapsack would not last.

Sweet irony. To starve to death in heaven.

The old man looked up the mountain. The Great Sky Fortress up top was a ghost almost completely hidden by clouds. The rainbow bridge was partially visible below, showing hints of the only color around.

The bridge was broken.

Sufficient to the hour that problem. The trial of the moment was to open the way for the return of this world’s doom, Asgrimmur Grimmsson. A notion that birthed a grim smile.

Awakenings, revenances, most always featured the return of old evils thoroughly dedicated to the pursuit of greater evil. Not the correction of good deeds gone rotten.

10. Alten Weinberg: Sisters

As often as she dared without sparking the Imperial wrath, Princess Helspeth begged leave to return to Plemenza. Telling Katrin, honestly, “I want to get away from the politics.” Making it sound general. Avoiding specifics because it was the specific that terrified her.

Katrin married was worse than Katrin the virgin. This shrew hated the world because, it seemed, she had chosen her husband so poorly. And could not admit her error.

Jaime had lost interest as soon as it was clear that he would never become Emperor himself. Though for some time he did perform his duty in an effort to create an heir.

More often he lay with some woman of the court. Or with a dusky little mistress he kept in an apartment not far from the Palace.

Alten Weinberg eventually lost its appeal. Jaime returned to Castauriga.

His argument for going was sound. He was king, there. His kingdom was being pressed by its neighbors. Had Peter of Navaya not been distracted by grander ambitions he might have gobbled Castauriga already.

And there were stirrings in Arnhand, aimed at the Connec. That could pull in the Chaldarean Episcopal princes of Direcia. None of them wanted a stronger Anne of Menand behind them.

The politics Helspeth wanted to escape were those of religious factions. Most of the nobility would not accept Katrin’s accommodation with the Patriarchy. They wanted to put forward the Princess Apparent as their banner in the struggle to bring back yesterday.

Helspeth would have no part of sedition. And made that plain to anyone who came to her with a scheme.

Katrin adamantly refused to let Helspeth leave the capital. She did not want the Princess Apparent in residence where she could not be closely watched.

There was a huge strain between the sisters. Helspeth was terrified she could end up imprisoned again. Or worse. And had reason to fear. For Katrin’s advisers suggested extreme measures regularly.

The gathering storm broke when Katrin announced that she was expecting. Again.

She had become pregnant almost immediately after her wedding. That child spontaneously aborted in the sixth week. The days following had been hard. No one knew what to expect. Katrin flew into rages with no apparent provocation. The rages fled as quickly. She became deeply remorseful, countermanding draconian orders issued while she was angry. The court adapted by pretending to pursue her cruel directives while hoping she would change her mind.

Katrin seldom followed up. She forgot.

But sometimes her people, frightened of a future without Katrin in it, did not ignore her maddest orders.

The Empress’s behavior drove more and more nervous nobles into the camp of those who thought life would have to be more congenial with a different sister occupying the Grail Throne. Which thinking terrified the Princess Apparent.

Katrin’s announcement, scarcely four weeks after Jaime’s departure, brought peace. Her irrationality went away. She buried herself in the work of empire, and in preparations for the baby’s arrival. She assured everyone it would be a son, a strapping heir to the mantle of Johannes Blackboots. She would name him for his grandfather. She drove women of the court to distraction with pregnancy talk. She slept much less than before. This manic phase appeared endless.

Which frightened some of the court more than had her earlier psychosis.

Everyone avoided mention of Jaime of Castauriga.

Jaime was a subject Katrin would pursue with more intensity than her pregnancy. Jaime had become a demigod who bore no resemblance to the living man. A man even Katrin’s most devoted supporters hoped was gone for good.

***

Helspeth had been summoned to dine with her sister. She dressed dowdy, determined not to outshine Katrin, whose looks had declined alarmingly. She found Katrin in an expansive mood, inclined to sisterly intimacy. Helspeth played along, afraid a hammer would fall just when she least expected.

Katrin said, “I’m so lonely, Ellie. Jaime is gone. I don’t have anybody. These people … They’re not my friends. They just want to use me.”

“Kat, you’ve always got me. If you’d just accept that. I don’t want to be anything but your loving sister. That’s all I need to be.” In the back of her mind was a hope that she could scuttle efforts to find her a husband. One who would take her far from the Empire.

The search always livened when Katrin was in a good mood. With her expecting, now, there was no perceived need to reserve the Princess Apparent against the unexpected.

A baby would be easier to manipulate if Katrin suddenly went away. Helspeth, many feared, was too much like her father. She would be difficult despite her sex.

An hour of Katrin’s insecurities fled. Helspeth suspected her of making some of it up, purely for the pleasure of being reassured.

Then Katrin said, “I hear that Braunsknecht captain, Algres Drear, is back in the city.”

“I didn’t know that. Why?”

“They ran the Imperials out of Viscesment. After the Captain-General made sure his puppet was settled in Brothe.”

“Really? He didn’t strike me as that kind. More a loyal soldier.”

“He must have turned my offer down because he knew he was in a position to make the next Patriarch.”

“I never thought of that. Though I don’t see why he’d be chasing revenant Instrumentalities through the End of Connec if he could be the man behind the Patriarch in Brothe.”

“He’ll have a reason. That man is too slick.”

“Just because he turned you down?”

“Doesn’t make any sense, otherwise.”

“Sure, it does. He gave his word. He’d have jumped at the chance if he hadn’t already promised his service to someone else.”

Katrin eyed her oddly. Was she too intense? She did not think so. But she ought to back off anyway. This was not the first time she had shown unbecoming emotion when the Captain-General was the subject. People might wonder.

She wondered herself. She was an adult, rational woman. Why the obsession? Why the secret letters? Having witnessed Katrin’s obsession with Jaime of Castauriga she feared she might succumb to a similar madness.

A lady of the court interrupted, “Lord Maeterlinck begs your indulgence, Empress. Ferris Renfrow has arrived with important news. The Graf believes you should be made aware as soon as possible.”

The interruption angered the Empress. People just would not stop butting in with things that could wait. For weeks, for all she could do anything about some of them. With the old men it was always the crisis of the moment. Were they determined to test her to her limits?

Helspeth whispered, “It’s not Claudelette’s fault. Be gentle. She’s doing what she’s supposed to do.”

Katrin muttered angrily.

“Take it out on fon Maeterlinck. He’s the villain.”

Easy to say when she was not the girl who had to growl at one of the old warhorses. Simpler to take it out on a woman who could do nothing but bow her head and take it.

“All right, little sister. I’ll let you show me how.”

Ouch! But Katrin did no such thing.

“Claudelette. Inform the Graf fon Maeterlinck that I require him to assemble the Council Advisory and other appropriate individuals within the hour. No excuses.”

The Empress grinned wickedly. “That, little sister, is how
I
deal with the Maeterlincks. Now he has to make himself unpopular with fifteen or twenty cranky old men. Most of whom won’t arrive on time. So they’ll look bad in front of their Empress. A few will actually blame fon Maeterlinck.”

“Are you going to change?”

“No. I’ll show up breathless and inappropriately dressed. I’m so devoted to the Empire. Which should make the Council that much more irked at Maeterlinck if this is just another routine report being exaggerated into a millennial threat to the Empire.”

A parade of insignificant crises did arise. Helspeth suspected there was less malice behind them than Katrin wanted to believe. Men like the Graf fon Maeterlinck just wanted to be reassured that they were important to the Empire.

***

Having acknowledged the Imperial dignity of the Empress and Princess Apparent — perfunctorily — a tattered and filthy Ferris Renfrow declared, “There wasn’t any need to convene the Council in emergency. My news may be dramatic but it doesn’t require an immediate response. It may require no response at all.”

Katrin’s glare very nearly melted the Graf fon Maeterlinck.

Maeterlinck had shaken the hornet’s nest before finding out what brought Ferris Renfrow here. And Renfrow had let him think the news would be earth-shaking so he would stick his fingers in the meat grinder.

“Renfrow? We’re here. Let’s have it.”

“Arnhander crusader forces raised by Anne of Menand and renegades from the banned Society for the Suppression of Sacrilege and Heresy have invaded the Connec. The largest force, commanded by King Regard, is headed toward Khaurene, out west. A second army is working its way through the mountains toward Castreresone. The Archbishops of Salpeno and Pernoud are its commanders.

“A third force will come down in the east, following the Dechear. It’s supposed to reduce Antieux, then follow the example set by the Captain-General during Sublime’s Connecten Crusade. This army consists of those who have angered Anne of Menand. They’ve been ordered to crusade or face severe disfavor. I expect Anne hopes Count Raymone Garete will eat most of them up.”

Helspeth had begun breathing rapidly. She bit her lower lip.

Katrin said, “It’s true. It’s not crucial. But now we’re here.” Scorn edged her words. “Those who bothered to respond.” She glowered. “So let’s discuss it. How is Brothe likely to respond? I’d expect wholesale excommunications. At the least. No Patriarch tolerates defiance from the temporal authorities. And what will the Captain-General do?”

News delivered, Ferris Renfrow had eased aside. Helspeth thought he seemed particularly interested in her reactions. But she had been living close by a sister who turned ugly in an instant. She revealed nothing.

Practically, the news meant little to her.

Not so to the old men. Already there were whispers about this town or that, on the frontier, which really ought to be part of the Empire. Though the Empire had been nipping off bits of Arnhander territory for decades, whenever Arnhand became preoccupied elsewhere.

Helspeth asked, “What will King Brill do?”

Santerin was always at war with Arnhand. The kings of Santerin seldom disdained an opportunity to raid and capture towns should the generally feeble central Arnhander authority turn its back.

Katrin welcomed the interjection. “Renfrow?”

“I can’t say for sure. I haven’t heard from my sources. But King Brill should do what Santerin’s kings always have. Though Anne of Menand, being smarter than the last dozen Arnhander kings put together, might have made arrangements ahead of time.” Renfrow gave the Empress a sharp look. As though to suggest that crusades were not to be undertaken on a pious whim.