Clej Sedlakova approached Hecht the second afternoon. “What’ll we do with all these Deves, boss?”
“You don’t think we should just leave them naked in the rain?”
Head shake.
“Why not?”
“They’ll just start over. Maybe here, maybe somewhere else. But right now they figure you’re gonna kill them so they can’t.”
“And you think they’ve got the right idea?”
“Just don’t ask me to do it. I’m not that hard.”
“Be a serious waste of talent and knowledge. Let’s take them with us. We can lock them up in Hochwasser. They can pursue their trade in service to the Empire.”
“Make slaves of them?”
“Forced labor. My father would find that delicious.”
Sedlakova showed confusion. “Sir?”
“Nothing. Identify the most valuable people. Have Vircondelet take them away as soon as he can.”
“Yes, sir.” Sedlakova’s relief was obvious.
Why had the man not believed that they would be left naked and starving?
Hecht reflected briefly on the legacy left him by Redfearn Bechter. Had there been more to that than just Grade Drocker’s journal? If so, he could not figure it out. And Drocker had not been the sort to indulge himself with deep puzzles and riddles.
The Empress, accompanied by fewer than a hundred companions and guards, arrived as Sedlakova went to deal with the prisoners. She did not look comfortable. Hecht thought she was sick and putting on a bold face. He ran to greet her, stifling the protests she was sure to have heard a hundred times, already. She was here. He would have to pretend to be pleased.
Katrin made no effort not to be noticed. “I want Monestacheus Deleanu to know that this was my adventure, not a rogue action by my Commander of the Righteous. God’s enemies cannot be allowed to arm themselves with these horrible weapons.”
Then greed flashed. Her thinking included the savings this meant for the Imperial treasury.
The presence of the Empress only added to the chaos.
The Commander of the Righteous received a summons to the Imperial Presence the evening of the day following her arrival. The lifeguard who brought the message told him the Empress expected him to dine with her. He should dress accordingly.
That meant a hurried bath and a change to his other clothes. He traveled light in the field, seldom dressing better than his soldiers.
He grumbled because this might cause a delay in leaving.
He was ready to go, having accomplished his mission.
The Empress had taken the quarters of the directors. Living rough. She did not mind, though she had only two distraught young women to manage her needs, leaving much to her lifeguards. Who, Hecht noted, went about their business grimly.
Protecting this impulsive Empress might be more difficult than had been protecting the Captain-General. Katrin had no real need to go dangerous places. She did not have to be difficult. But she did feel compelled to be her father’s daughter.
Katrin was not in a good mood. “Is that the best you have to wear? You look like one of your foot soldiers.”
“It is, I fear, Your Grace. I did not anticipate a need for anything better.”
Katrin dropped it. “This went well. What next?”
“Back to Hochwasser and Alten Weinberg. Then steady training and planning for next year. For now, we should send an advance party to the Holy Lands. What we know now isn’t much more than rumor.”
Katrin had established herself behind the bulwark of a large, rude table. She remained there, unmoving, occasional flickers of discomfort darkening her features. She was, for sure, not well.
One of her lifeguards brought a chair, placed it opposite her. She indicated that Hecht should sit.
She began to talk the business of crusade and empire but seemed vaguely distracted.
The first course arrived, something local that Hecht neither recognized nor appreciated. It was a dough ball filled with shredded meat, unfamiliar spices, and strange chopped vegetables. The Empress observed, “Their people weren’t big on luxuries. Especially food.”
Hecht caught a whiff of coffee. It made him sit up straight and look toward the doorway whence the server lifeguard had entered and departed.
Katrin managed a smile. “Some things are too marvelous to give up, however much I don’t mind living rough.”
The coffee arrived with what turned out to be both the main and final course, a roast slab of unidentifiable beast the attending lifeguard divided according to status rather than capacity.
Hecht tied in, ate slowly, talked planning, and hoped the disappearance of the lifeguards and the absence of courtiers did not foreshadow another difficult situation.
Katrin did get personal. And became personable. A little food, a little wine, doing wonders for her mood.
She quizzed him about his past and plans, about Anna Mozilla, the children, what he thought of Helspeth as a person and his feelings toward her. She knew an uncomfortable lot about Piper Hecht. As always, she came to the question that seemed to consume her: Had he and Helspeth yet been intimate?
“This is difficult, Your Grace. The answer is, no. We haven’t. Nor will ever be. Though I might find it difficult to keep my place if she insisted.” He might want to sell a dangerous lie later.
“Helspeth wouldn’t insist. Helspeth is dutiful to the needs of the Empire. But a well-timed nudge could tip her over with her heels in the air.”
Katrin was tormenting him. Trying to provoke him. Being jealous of Helspeth. Again. “I’m not comfortable discussing these things, Your Grace. My role is to help you liberate the Holy Lands.”
“As your Empress we’re free to interpret your duties as it please us, Commander of the Righteous.” Using an Imperial “we” for the first time in his experience. With a tremor in her voice.
Hecht was frightened now. He had a notion where Katrin was headed. He did not want to be there when she arrived. But he saw no way to escape.
Katrin said, “Have you heard rumors about my private court, Commander?” Voice more tremulous.
He could not deny that. “I have, Your Grace. Canards put about by your enemies, surely. All rulers suffer such things.”
“But you’re afraid there might be some truth there, aren’t you?”
“It isn’t my place to be concerned. My mission…”
“Those rumors might be true, Commander. I’ve become infatuated with human coupling. I’ve made some of my ladies mate with their lovers while I watch. Some find that exciting.”
Most, he suspected, had been humiliated. Their humiliation would be what Katrin fed the darkness within her.
“You don’t think well of me. For that. I don’t think well of myself. I did stop watching those who objected. I just wanted to satisfy my curiosity, anyway.”
Which left Hecht puzzled. And disinclined to believe her.
“Of course. I’m no virgin. Why should I be curious? Because Jaime is my only experience. Jaime was never the kind of lover my ladies whispered and giggled about when they thought I wasn’t listening. Jaime was a brute. He did nothing to make me want to be there while he spilled his seed. My agents found other women he used during his stay in Alten Weinberg. His ill usage wasn’t reserved for a disdained spouse.”
“Your Grace, I beg you. This isn’t something I need to hear.”
“But you do. Jaime of Castauriga is, was, the watershed event of your Empress’s life. Jaime of Castauriga created what you see: A woman sick in body and soul. A woman who can’t fulfill her foremost duty to the Empire. I can’t produce an heir.”
Hecht tried to be reassuring. He failed.
“Commander, I know there are diplomats out west trying to lure Jaime back. For my sake. For the sake of the succession. For the sake of their own ambitions. It doesn’t matter. He won’t come. The conflict between the Jaime I imagined and the Jaime of reality will shape me for as long as I go on. My problem at the moment is my terror, knowing I may not go on long.”