Lord Of The Silent Kingdom Part 28

Gervase Saluda said, "Let me take him, Captain-General. Biggio. A hand, if you will."

The quick change was a dramatic reminder of human frailty. Hecht said, "Sergeant Bechter. Where's the man in brown?" Ninth Unknown or mundane rioter, he was gone.

Hecht nodded to Osa Stile, to let the catamite know he had been seen. He was being ignored only because of the more pressing situation.

It would be important, though. Osa did not appear in public without his protector.

The new Bruglioni Princ.i.p.ate, about to depart with Princ.i.p.ate Mongoz, said, "I need a few minutes in private when you get time, Captain-General. A family matter. Of some importance to Paludan."

"Of course. Sergeant Bechter can work out something that fits our schedules." In the Name of G.o.d, the All-Knowing and Merciful! What was this? He could not have imagined himself saying that a year ago. "Bechter?"

"I understand, sir."

Hecht moved to check the situation in the Closed Ground. "That idiot will talk himself into thinking he's a hero."

The mob was a third of what it had been. The deadenders had a tail-between-the-knees look and were hanging on mostly because they did not want to desert the friends with whom they had come.

Hecht remarked, "The professional agitators have taken off. Nothing but inertia keeping it going now. It's over unless somebody suffers a last-second stroke of idiocy. People. Gather round. Let's make sure sure there's no plague of stupidity. Feel free to deal with anybody, even on our side." there's no plague of stupidity. Feel free to deal with anybody, even on our side."

Colonel Smolens asked, "You won't be here?"

"I won't. I have another problem that needs immediate attention."

"Sir?"

He did not explain. "Once those morons clear out take the troops to the hippodrome to help Colonel Ghort."

"Yes, sir."

Hecht glanced around. The Mongoz party had gone. He was the senior man present. He could do what he wanted.

He wanted to find the catamite.

"Armand." Hecht overtook the boy halfway to Princ.i.p.ate Delari's Palace apartment. The catamite beckoned and increased his pace. He wanted to be inside the safety of the Princ.i.p.ate's apartment when he talked.

"What is it?" Hecht asked as soon as it was safe. Osa was too professional to take a risk unless there was a greater risk in not acting.

"He's trapped down there."

"What? Who? Start at the beginning."

"The Princ.i.p.ate. Our Princ.i.p.ate. Delari. He's down in the catacombs. He was supposed to come back a long time ago."

"You're still not at the beginning. Did he have anything to do with the cave-in at the hippodrome?"

Osa was puzzled. "What cave-in?"

"The catacombs under the hippodrome collapsed. The stadium fell into the hole. It's a huge mess. A lot of people got killed."

Osa turned pale. "I thought it was just another riot. We have to do something."

Hecht ground his teeth. "He's really down there?"

The boy nodded.

"Oh, d.a.m.n! That is bad. We need that old man to get by. You and me both. You're absolutely sure?"

"He went this morning. He got up way early. He said he'd figured out how to deal with what was down there. Whatever that meant. He doesn't tell me nearly as much as you think. He left right after breakfast. Whistling. Said he should be back in time for a late lunch."

Hecht considered his options. And saw only one. Get Delari out.

Osa said, "I'm going, too." Before Hecht could demur, he whispered, "I am Sha-lug."

He was. Yes. Before all else. And from the Vibrant Spring School.

"All right. Wear something that doesn't make you look like a wh.o.r.e."

"I'll go change."

Osa did so. And looked nothing like the rouged, perfumed bed bunny who shared Muniero Delari's nights. Nor did he smell like it.

This Osa would have no trouble fading into the Brothen mob. His threadbare apparel suggested that he did so occasionally.

Osa smiled. "Part of the job, Captain. You know where we have to go. Lead on."

Hecht wondered if Stile was taking the opportunity to unearth secrets never shared by his keeper.

They encountered traces of gray dust as they approached the baths. Inside, the staff were cleaning everything and skimming the pools.

Herrin intercepted them. "It blew in from back where n.o.body is supposed to go," she explained. "Along with a lot of cold, stinky air. We can't bathe you today."

"Not a problem. We're just pa.s.sing through."

Herrin's eyes widened.

"We're going back where n.o.body is supposed to go."

"Be careful, sir. Something's really wrong there."

The map room was a disaster. The dust had not yet all settled there.

Osa asked, "What is this place?"

"You don't need to know. Don't ask questions."

The priests and nuns had begun a halfhearted cleanup. Some just sat or stood, eyes glazed over. One sitting woman rocked steadily, hiding out in her own secret universe.

One senior priest intercepted Hecht. He spoke slowly, coughed a lot, and sniffled continuously. "You going after the Unknown?"

"Yes."

The priest hacked. "He went through the Old Door. He hasn't come back. We need his direction. This is a disaster. Three brothers didn't survive."

Not good. Hecht said, "We'll find him. Meantime, do what he'd want done."

"But..."

"What more, brother? Look around. What needs doing?" Hecht remained perpetually amazed that so many people would not pick up a stick unless somebody told them to do it. "You're in charge. Get to work." He pulled Osa along.

He could not make the speed he wanted. Hurrying raised dust, made breathing a pain. Breathing through cloth helped a little.

Hecht repeated the lamp instructions he had gotten from Princ.i.p.ate Delari. "I've only done this once." He ought to be alone this time. Osa Stile did not need to know about the underworld. "The Princ.i.p.ate was adamant about these lamps. I'm sure he knew what he was talking about. We almost ran into something that had him him shaking." shaking."

"Probably what he came down here hunting, then."

"What did he tell you?" Hecht examined the ma.s.sive door. It had been left unbolted. Naturally. Delari wanted to come back through. A huge wind, carrying tons of dust, had blasted it wide open. It had not closed all the way again.

"Almost nothing. I couldn't work him for anything he didn't want to talk about."

"Did he suspect you?"

"No. It just wasn't any of my business."

"Ah?"

"I've been less effective with Delari than you think. The a.s.sociation is useful, though. It opens doors." He grinned his winning grin.

"Let's go. Slowly. This dust may be dangerous." Slowly was mandatory. Just stumbling on tricky footing raised choking clouds.

"This probably isn't the smart way to do this," Hecht said. But did not turn back.

He was surprised that he had so much emotion invested in Princ.i.p.ate Delari.

Avoiding deep breathing, Osa asked, "What was that place? With the old priests and nuns."

"Ask Delari. He'll tell you if he wants you to know."

"You going to keep it from our masters in al-Qarn?"

"My masters in al-Qarn have abandoned me, brother."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I. But since I left Dreanger there have been at least seven attempts to kill me. Those that I could trace all led back to the Rascal."

Osa stopped. By lamplight his wide eyes were strange, almost inhuman. "Truth?"

"Truth. And I can't get my questions or messages through to Gordimer. So how can I help thinking that I've been discarded? That I keep on breaking hearts by not lying down to die?"

"But..." Osa Stile shook his head. He seemed baffled.

"There's something bigger than me going on, too." He told Osa about Hagid's brutal murder. And that he had seen Bone in the Closed Ground only a few hours earlier.

"Hagid? Na.s.sim Alizarin's son?"

"The same."

"That's definitely a major mystery."

"You really think?"

"Sarcasm isn't necessary. That news could cause a major power shift back home. Na.s.sim Alizarin al-Jebal had his whole soul wrapped up in his son. He hoped Hagid would become the next Marshal of the Sha-lug."

"Knowing that, I feel more lost. There's no way the Mountain would have sent Hagid to Calzir with the whole Chaldarean west swarming over the kingdom."

"Calzir?"

"I saw some of my old company in al-Khazen. My guess is, they weren't able to escape with the other Sha-lug and Lucidians."

They were approaching the great underground cathedral. Something crashed in the darkness ahead. Rubble surrendering to the blandishments of gravity? Or something stirring?

Both men shut up. Talking was dangerous. Who might be listening? What What might be? The Night itself might be eavesdropping down here. might be? The Night itself might be eavesdropping down here.

"It gets lonely," Osa said. He said nothing more and did not need to. Hecht understood perfectly.

And Osa had been this side of the Mother Sea longer than he had.

Hecht had a.s.sumed the collapse had been into the subterranean cathedral. There could be no other voids that huge under Brothe. Could there?

Must be.

Moonlight leaked into the hall through a new gap in the overhead. Rubble lay scattered across the vast tiled floor. Bones were everywhere. A dense animal musk overlaid the odor of ancient death and modern sewage. Hecht's earlier visit had not prepared him for what he could see even by the scant light of a partial moon.