Book 3 - Surrender to the Will of the Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

used to. You’d better carry some charms if you need to go out after dark. It gets worse the farther north you go.”
    “Find out anything interesting about me?”
    Biogna grimaced. “You didn’t stay anywhere long. Hardly anybody remembers you. But there’s always good things about you in the records.”
    “I wanted to get to Brothe. I worked when I needed money. When I ran into you guys was the first time I let myself get distracted from my goal.”
    “Paid off, though. For all of us. Especially you and Ghort.”
    His good humor abandoned Hecht briefly. It had not worked out for most of the men of their little band. They were buried near Antieux.
    “Yeah,” Biogna said. “For them as survived that nonsense. And Plemenza, afterward. We ain’t doing so bad. Hey! I met your brother.”
    Hecht could not have been more startled if Biogna had pulled a knife. “What?”
    “Your brother. Tindeman. You mentioned him a couple times.”
    “But he’s dead.”
    “Looked pretty healthy to me. Gone gray in the hair, though. And he’s got a nasty purple scar across his face that makes it hard for him to talk. But he’s alive and kicking. He’s an artillery engineer in Grumbrag.”
    Hecht was too surprised to improvise. How could the Ninth Unknown have placed live people to support his backstory?
    “You seem overwhelmed,” Biogna observed.
    “I am. I’ve never been so surprised. I always thought I was the only one left. The fighting was really awful that year. Almost everyone on the Grail Order side was killed. Even if the Sheard were broken.”
    Hecht was saved the need to dissemble further by the arrival of Bo’s friend, Just Plain Joe.
    Joe was a big, slow, dull man with a genius for managing animals. Though he was a private soldier—Joe wanted no more responsibility—Hecht considered him one of his dozen key men. Joe knew animals. The Patriarchal army could not operate without countless animals if he wanted it to remain an effective, modern force.
    Joe had cleaned up. Which explained why it had taken him so long.
    Hecht said, “Look who’s here.”
    “Yeah. They told me. Hey, Bo. Hey! You don’t want to get too close. I didn’t get that clean.”
    “Look at me, Joe. Do I look like I’m ready for parade?”
    Hecht called for food and refreshments. His lifeguards watched, carefully blank, while one of the more powerful men in the Episcopal world relaxed with a stable hand and a would-be trespasser.
    Hecht had formed strong bonds with these men, Pinkus Ghort, and others who had not survived. Their variable fortunes since had not broken that bond. Even when they worked at cross-purposes.
    Carava de Bos appeared. “I’m loath to interrupt, sir. But you have to see the Empress in just two hours. You need to eat and dress.”
    “Thanks. Joe, Bo, duty calls. You guys enjoy yourself. Cederig.” Speaking to one of the lifeguards. “Mr. Biogna can stay as long as he likes. But he’s to go nowhere except here and the stables.”
    Biogna would want to say hello to Joe’s tutelary mule, Pig Iron. Pig Iron had been with Joe since the beginning.
    Hecht considered that mule a sort of philosophical signpost. The beast had an attitude toward the world. It served him well.
    Hecht considered himself stubborn and nasty, too. Though he had yet to take a bite out of any of his friends.
    *   *   *
    Cloven Februaren twisted into existence while Hecht was dressing. Without help. He insisted on dressing himself, as much as he could, despite the status he had attained. It was almost as good as having a slave whisper in his ear.
    The old man said, “I overheard your friend’s report. About finding your brother Tindeman in Grumbrag. I’m not guilty of that. My contributions to your backstory consist of false entries on minor payrolls. Did Begonia say anything he couldn’t have gotten from what you’ve told him about your past?”
    “Yes. That someone I made up is alive and kicking in a city halfway between here and