Far memories of Eru Itutmu were all Caltium Cidanta had to recommend it.

Bishop LeCroes grumbled, "This place is like every other damned town on the island. There aren't any boats. There aren't any men younger than sixty or boys older than twelve. And the women come in three types: homely, homelier, and homeliest."

Brother Candle chuckled. "I'm just a simpleminded heretic, Bries, but I picked up the notion somewhere that we're supposed to treat the local females the way we'd want our stout Connecten wives treated. Not to mention that celibacy is part of your job."

"You're a major pain in the fundament, Candle. A total fun-killer."

"I do what I can."

The real point was, there were no women of breeding age, however liberal your outlook.

LeCroes grumbled, "Anything female that might tempt a sinner, including ewes and nannies and sows, is hiding in the mountains."

Occupation of Caltium Cidanta and its environs was anticlimactic. The sole casualty was a Terliagan slinger who broke a finger while showing off to some local boys. Those villagers still in place betrayed no overt resentment. They did demonstrate a healthy wariness.

Brother Candle sensed a high level of resignation.

"It's part of the culture," the Plataduran chaplain assured him. He had come ashore because he was familiar with the Shippen dialect "Shippen has been invaded a lot. The people know they'll get through it."

"Yet they'll go out pirating." The fact that they would had nothing to do with how they responded to occupation. The piratical inclination existed because of the island's history.

Most invasions had begun with pirate types who came to plunder and found little worth carrying away. But they did find Shippen to be a good place to hide from their enemies.

The Plataduran chaplain indicated a hazy indigo line of teeth. "If the boys get an urge to misbehave they'll have to jog all the way over there. They'll lose the mood by the time they get there."

THE OCCUPATION OF SHIPPEN PROCEEDED WITHOUT FANFARE or much conflict. Nobles of standing had gone over to the mainland to resist the Unbeliever's attack there. They added to and shared in the privation and misery enjoyed by those who served in the armies of God.

On Shippen, natives and occupiers lived comfortably and harmoniously. The Connectens helped bring in the harvest. The women returned from the hills, a few at a time, bringing their livestock. The Connectens were not impressed. "The joke went that Calziran women explained why Calziran men had picked a fight with Chaldarean Firaldia.

Brother Candle pitched in. And talked about his own beliefs. Local Pramans found him amusing. Native Chaldareans, a third of the population, thought the Maysalean Heresy might be on to something.

Brothe, the Episcopal Church, and the Patriarchy were not beloved of Shippen's Chaldareans.

Brother Candle wished Bishop LeCroes considerable distress. The Bishop was out of his element, a chaplain without a flock. The Connectens off Taro were all Maysaleans, Terliagans, and Episcopal Chaldareans who favored Sublime V over Immaculate II.

"I'm not trying to cause you misery, Bries."

“I know. I dug my own grave when I decided I'd rather sail with a friend. If I had any sense I'd lay down in it and stop whining."

"Buy a donkey and catch up with Count Raymone." It was evening in Caltium Cidanta. Brother Candle was sampling me local vintage, which was surprisingly good. His expedition was turning out to be a vacation from life.

On Shippen the fact that there was a war on, that men were dying as great religions strove to resolve their relative merits in trial by combat, no longer seemed due much interest.

There was a dearth of determined true believers on both sides, on that island. No one demonstrated any special interest in making sure his God would be the sole survivor of the contest.

BROTHER CANDLE ENJOYED HIS TIME ON SHIPPEN THORoughly, loafing and debating nonsense with anyone who felt like bothering. Elsewhere, though, if overly dramatic dispatches could be credited, cataclysms were being brewed.

No one on Brother Candle's side of the Strait of Rhype much cared to find out what those might be.

30. Alameddine and Calzir

All things move slower and take longer. In most cases they also cost more. The Grail Emperor hoped to push through the Vaillarentiglia Mountains in time to distress the Calziran harvest. Only a few of Vondera Koterba's companies

made it. A handful of Imperial scouts went with them. They were feeble but had little difficulty fending off the few ragged, undisciplined Calzirans they encountered. They encountered none of the dreaded Praman sorceries they had heard about since childhood.

Calzir's political landscape was as chaotic as elsewhere in Firaldia. Several minor warlords offered to change sides if they could retain their holdings. That availed them nothing. Sublime did not want Unbeliever allies.

The Lucidians and Dreangereans dealt harshly with Calzirans they suspected of unstable loyalties. I

Forces like Else's Brothen City Regiment, swollen to more than four thousand men, with attendant animals and hangers-on, were much delayed. Practicalities and political infighting hamstrung progress.

Else and his staff performed miracles of organization and training. Their efforts received universal kudos. Even Ferris Renfrew offered the occasional grudging nod during brief respites from spying on Calzir.

No matter how well prepared the City Regiment became, it never marched. The orders to do so never came because of squabbling on high.

Similar petty behavior hampered volunteer formations throughout the Patriarchal States.

The Five Families all wanted more than a fair share of what might be gained in Calzir. On a lesser scale, the Patriarch, the Collegium, the Brotherhood of War, and every city raising forces, were equally driven by greed. There was so much confidence in a Chaldarean victory that none of the players concerned themselves about the cost of impeding progress.

"MY PATIENCE IS EXHAUSTED," ELSE SAID. "WE HAVE TO GET away from these insane, overgrown children."

"And here we go," Pinkus Ghort told him. The occasion was a small, private staff meeting more than a month past the target date Hansel had set for first operations. "We send the ready companies south now. One a day. Titus has the transit stuff set. It's going to fall apart if we don't use it."

"Interesting." Moving single companies was something Else could do without getting approval from a dozen interfering Brothes. "How long before the bigwigs start squawking?"

"That'll depend on who's paying attention. Renfrow ought to catch on first. But he spends most of his time in Calzir. Spying. The Deves down there have been producing some great intelligence. But they're getting nervous. We're taking too damned long. The Lucidians and Dreangereans have gotten real active, lately. The Deves are scared they'll figure out what's going on and deal harshly with the infidel community."

Else asked, “Titus, what do you think about that?"

"He's right. Calzir's Devedians are scared. Devedians everywhere are scared. It's part of being a Deve."

"I'm in no position to reassure anyone."

"You don't concern them much, sir."

The Devedian community had given him no cause for disappointment. Though their efficiency at pulling things together stirred old, deep suspicions. Was there any truth in those old tales of secret Devedian brotherhoods out to control the world surreptitiously?

Gledius Stewpo always mocked that notion. He could spark off scores of plausible arguments against it, but there were times when one had to wonder. As, say, when one found Deves armed with firepowder weapons capable of bringing down the most powerful sorcerer.