he
asked revealed information as well. Which was why, in turn, Hecht did
not ask about Vali Dumaine.
If anyone did know that story, Renfrow would.
So Hecht asked, "How much support will Lothar give the Duke of
Clearenza?"
Renfrow chuckled. "What will the Patriarch do in response to fon
Dreasser coming to his senses?"
Hecht smiled back.
Renfrow saw something that interested him. Startled and disturbed
him, perhaps. For a flickering instant. "He wouldn't have delusions of…"
"Plenty," Ghort said. "Illusions, too. He's loony as a band of rock
apes on fermented fruit."
What did that mean? Hecht said, "We wouldn't be here if he was
serious about that, would we?"
Renfrow grunted, headed out the front door.
A man went out after him. Hecht said, "That would be the man he
hoped we wouldn't notice."
Ghort agreed. "Yes. And now I'm curious. Because that was Lyse
Tanner."
"Don't know the name."
"He's from Santerin. One of the ones who ran out after their last
succession squabble. He tried to get a commission from the Patriarch.
His brother is a bishop. He didn't get the job."
"So he went to work for the Emperor?"
"He was probably on Renfrow's payroll first. Let's keep an eye on
him. See who his associates are. If he brought any. Think Renfrow knows
we caught it?"
"He won't assume we didn't, I expect."
"Pipe, I'm getting a little anxious. Things are going on around us.
And we ain't got a clue what they are."
"That's the story of my life. I'd be worried if I thought I was
getting on top of everything."
Hecht and Ghort were eating supper with the children when the deserters
arrived. "That's them," Ghort whispered. He handed his bowl down to
Vali, who pushed it under the bench. She was more relaxed but had not
yet spoken. Ghort stared at the floor, letting the shadows disguise
him.
Hecht whispered, "Pella. The men who just came in. Go outside and
wait for them to come back out. Keep track. Don't be obvious." He
glanced over. Ferris Renfrow had not yet crept into his evening shadow.
The children headed out the back way, Pella blathering about
outhouses. Nobody paid attention. The brats had become furniture
already.
"And now?" Ghort asked.
"And now I wish I'd had Pella go eavesdrop." The newcomers had
begun by questioning the one-eyed man. If he had a name Hecht had yet
to hear it. One-eye indicated one of the men Hecht had picked out
earlier. The newcomers interrupted his before meal prayer.
The seated man was not pleased.
Hecht said, "He didn't want them to find him in here."
Ghort asked, "You dug out anything that you haven't told me yet?"
"They pray a lot. That one told the redhead serving girl that he's a
priest. From Ormienden. He didn't say from where." Sublime's backers in
parts of Ormienden were savage fanatics. Immaculate's were less
determined but more numerous.
"Your basic godshouter is a shifty weasel, whatever his spiritual
poison. But that guy and his pals look a little more so than usual."
Hecht thought so himself. But he had found no way to learn more
about them.
"Here comes another one." Another supposed priest. "There's one
more, right?"
The newcomer seemed nervous. The deserters paid no attention.
Ghort related what he imagined was happening. "My boys want their
money. They're anxious to get on down the road. The paymaster is
saying, relax. Don't attract attention. Anyway, it wouldn't be smart to
get back out there on the road. There's some bad Night things prowling
around north of here."
Which was true. A blood-drained corpse had been found only miles
away just that morning.
"My boys don't care. They've worked themselves into a lather, worrying
about how awful their lives will get if Iron Bottom Ghort ever gets
hold of them."
"I'd be nervous myself."
"You'd have reason… Uh-oh."
"What?"
'The prayer brothers just sold them some snake oil. The money is
hidden outside. The stable, probably. Some kind of crap like that.
They're going to let the priests take them outside." The deserters
asked revealed information as well. Which was why, in turn, Hecht did
not ask about Vali Dumaine.
If anyone did know that story, Renfrow would.
So Hecht asked, "How much support will Lothar give the Duke of
Clearenza?"
Renfrow chuckled. "What will the Patriarch do in response to fon
Dreasser coming to his senses?"
Hecht smiled back.
Renfrow saw something that interested him. Startled and disturbed
him, perhaps. For a flickering instant. "He wouldn't have delusions of…"
"Plenty," Ghort said. "Illusions, too. He's loony as a band of rock
apes on fermented fruit."
What did that mean? Hecht said, "We wouldn't be here if he was
serious about that, would we?"
Renfrow grunted, headed out the front door.
A man went out after him. Hecht said, "That would be the man he
hoped we wouldn't notice."
Ghort agreed. "Yes. And now I'm curious. Because that was Lyse
Tanner."
"Don't know the name."
"He's from Santerin. One of the ones who ran out after their last
succession squabble. He tried to get a commission from the Patriarch.
His brother is a bishop. He didn't get the job."
"So he went to work for the Emperor?"
"He was probably on Renfrow's payroll first. Let's keep an eye on
him. See who his associates are. If he brought any. Think Renfrow knows
we caught it?"
"He won't assume we didn't, I expect."
"Pipe, I'm getting a little anxious. Things are going on around us.
And we ain't got a clue what they are."
"That's the story of my life. I'd be worried if I thought I was
getting on top of everything."
Hecht and Ghort were eating supper with the children when the deserters
arrived. "That's them," Ghort whispered. He handed his bowl down to
Vali, who pushed it under the bench. She was more relaxed but had not
yet spoken. Ghort stared at the floor, letting the shadows disguise
him.
Hecht whispered, "Pella. The men who just came in. Go outside and
wait for them to come back out. Keep track. Don't be obvious." He
glanced over. Ferris Renfrow had not yet crept into his evening shadow.
The children headed out the back way, Pella blathering about
outhouses. Nobody paid attention. The brats had become furniture
already.
"And now?" Ghort asked.
"And now I wish I'd had Pella go eavesdrop." The newcomers had
begun by questioning the one-eyed man. If he had a name Hecht had yet
to hear it. One-eye indicated one of the men Hecht had picked out
earlier. The newcomers interrupted his before meal prayer.
The seated man was not pleased.
Hecht said, "He didn't want them to find him in here."
Ghort asked, "You dug out anything that you haven't told me yet?"
"They pray a lot. That one told the redhead serving girl that he's a
priest. From Ormienden. He didn't say from where." Sublime's backers in
parts of Ormienden were savage fanatics. Immaculate's were less
determined but more numerous.
"Your basic godshouter is a shifty weasel, whatever his spiritual
poison. But that guy and his pals look a little more so than usual."
Hecht thought so himself. But he had found no way to learn more
about them.
"Here comes another one." Another supposed priest. "There's one
more, right?"
The newcomer seemed nervous. The deserters paid no attention.
Ghort related what he imagined was happening. "My boys want their
money. They're anxious to get on down the road. The paymaster is
saying, relax. Don't attract attention. Anyway, it wouldn't be smart to
get back out there on the road. There's some bad Night things prowling
around north of here."
Which was true. A blood-drained corpse had been found only miles
away just that morning.
"My boys don't care. They've worked themselves into a lather, worrying
about how awful their lives will get if Iron Bottom Ghort ever gets
hold of them."
"I'd be nervous myself."
"You'd have reason… Uh-oh."
"What?"
'The prayer brothers just sold them some snake oil. The money is
hidden outside. The stable, probably. Some kind of crap like that.
They're going to let the priests take them outside." The deserters
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