his divine right and of Patriarchal Infallibility. I don’t think there’s any way to scrape the scales off his eyes. I’ve tried. Though I never get close enough to actually talk to him.”
“People like that mostly end up prematurely dead.”
“Now we know why Sublime and his gang weren’t worried about money.”
“Plundering the heretics was always part of his plan.”
“It won’t work out any better in the Connec than it did in Calzir. There’s a lot of wealth there. That country has been peaceful for so long. But most of the wealth will get destroyed or disappear during the getting.”
“Shit,” Ghort murmured. “This news is gonna get back to Brothe before we do. Our asses are gonna be in a sling when they can’t find us.”
Hecht thought so, too. There would be a lot of running in circles, screaming and shouting, once this news reached the Mother City. Though it should not have much practical impact. “We might’ve made a bad career move, sneaking off.”
“Maybe this guy will give us a job.” He meant Ferris Renfrow, who was headed their way.
Renfrow said, “You’ve heard the news from the Connec.”
Hecht nodded.
“You should know that while the results delight me, neither the Emperor nor I contributed to Haiden Backe’s embarrassment.”
“That makes it all right, then.”
Renfrew grinned. Hecht had not seen that before. “Sublime … No. Mustn’t show disrespect to the Father of the Church. But I have to wonder about a man who’d hire Grolsachers — and Backe in particular — after all the disasters involving those people the last ten years. It’ll be a fearsome hard winter in Grolsach, for sure.”
Ghort said, “He hired Haiden Backe because he couldn’t find anybody else stupid enough. Never minding Sublime’s genius. Grolsach is terrible. Not so bad to be from, though, on account of nobody expects a lot from you.” More to himself, Ghort muttered, “Any Grolsacher tries to change their luck, he screws up and it just gets worse.”
“Spoken like a man who knows whereof he speaks.”
“Smart guys get out and find work somewhere else. Which helps them and Grolsach both because then there’s fewer mouths to fill.”
“If the smartest people emigrate, what does that say about those who don’t?”
Ghort shrugged. He did not know Ferris Renfrow. He did know the man’s reputation. The Imperial fancied himself the cleverest man around. And liked to show it in pointless debates.
Renfrow turned to Hecht. “You’ve got a couple of kids you’re towing around. How come?”
“Cover. Plus, somebody has a soft streak.” He nodded at Ghort. “Says one of them reminds him of him.”
“Ugly kid?”
“First shot. They have their uses. Eyes and ears. Though the smaller boy is a mute.”
“You came from Sonsa.” Not a question.
Hecht nodded. Renfrow knew.
“What’s going on there?”
“We weren’t there long.”
But long enough to collect a couple of street urchins, Renfrow said with his calculating gray eyes.
Ghort said, “The dump’s a ghost town. I expected more people and more business. Guess they ain’t never recovered from the Deve uprising.”
“Perhaps.”
Hecht knew Renfrow wanted to keep talking, but every question 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
“People like that mostly end up prematurely dead.”
“Now we know why Sublime and his gang weren’t worried about money.”
“Plundering the heretics was always part of his plan.”
“It won’t work out any better in the Connec than it did in Calzir. There’s a lot of wealth there. That country has been peaceful for so long. But most of the wealth will get destroyed or disappear during the getting.”
“Shit,” Ghort murmured. “This news is gonna get back to Brothe before we do. Our asses are gonna be in a sling when they can’t find us.”
Hecht thought so, too. There would be a lot of running in circles, screaming and shouting, once this news reached the Mother City. Though it should not have much practical impact. “We might’ve made a bad career move, sneaking off.”
“Maybe this guy will give us a job.” He meant Ferris Renfrow, who was headed their way.
Renfrow said, “You’ve heard the news from the Connec.”
Hecht nodded.
“You should know that while the results delight me, neither the Emperor nor I contributed to Haiden Backe’s embarrassment.”
“That makes it all right, then.”
Renfrew grinned. Hecht had not seen that before. “Sublime … No. Mustn’t show disrespect to the Father of the Church. But I have to wonder about a man who’d hire Grolsachers — and Backe in particular — after all the disasters involving those people the last ten years. It’ll be a fearsome hard winter in Grolsach, for sure.”
Ghort said, “He hired Haiden Backe because he couldn’t find anybody else stupid enough. Never minding Sublime’s genius. Grolsach is terrible. Not so bad to be from, though, on account of nobody expects a lot from you.” More to himself, Ghort muttered, “Any Grolsacher tries to change their luck, he screws up and it just gets worse.”
“Spoken like a man who knows whereof he speaks.”
“Smart guys get out and find work somewhere else. Which helps them and Grolsach both because then there’s fewer mouths to fill.”
“If the smartest people emigrate, what does that say about those who don’t?”
Ghort shrugged. He did not know Ferris Renfrow. He did know the man’s reputation. The Imperial fancied himself the cleverest man around. And liked to show it in pointless debates.
Renfrow turned to Hecht. “You’ve got a couple of kids you’re towing around. How come?”
“Cover. Plus, somebody has a soft streak.” He nodded at Ghort. “Says one of them reminds him of him.”
“Ugly kid?”
“First shot. They have their uses. Eyes and ears. Though the smaller boy is a mute.”
“You came from Sonsa.” Not a question.
Hecht nodded. Renfrow knew.
“What’s going on there?”
“We weren’t there long.”
But long enough to collect a couple of street urchins, Renfrow said with his calculating gray eyes.
Ghort said, “The dump’s a ghost town. I expected more people and more business. Guess they ain’t never recovered from the Deve uprising.”
“Perhaps.”
Hecht knew Renfrow wanted to keep talking, but every question 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
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