"Pinkus, make these guys disappear. And think up a way to explain them if anybody asks."

"I'll keep track of who asks, too."

"Good thinking. I'll be here making love to these maps." What he wanted desperately, though, was to see if Polo had a bed ready.

Titus Consent stayed when Ghort spirited the other Deves away. "I'm staff. Nobody will wonder about me."

"You're awfully confident and competent for someone so young."

"I'm a special case. They've trained me and brought me along since I was five."

“To be some kind of messiah?"

"Nothing so pretentious. Just somebody who can take charge if Devedian fortunes flop into a cesspool. Which they do with distressing frequency."

"I should make suspicious noises. But I'm too tired." Else wanted no one guessing how abidingly suspicious he was already.

Consent observed, "I'm sure Stewpo explained the fallacy underlying that concept."

"He did?"

"He didn't tell you that Devedians are so ambitious, jealous, petty, and backbiting that the only Deve conspiracy with any hope of success can't involve more than two people?"

"That would mean that three of the five of you who were just in here will put the screws to the rest."

"It's more a parable sort of thing."

"It doesn't matter. I do believe your tribe will help me."

"You have doubts."

"Not doubts, exactly. I know what you're doing. And why. I can't condemn you for it. But now I wonder where you fit with the Emperor added to the mix. He's never shown much animosity toward your people. And he's a devoted enemy of Sublime. Who hasn't lost his hope of seeing your race exterminated."

"That level of policy is beyond a pup like me. My job is to do what I can to make sure the regiment operates successfully."

Pinkus Ghort returned. "All taken care of, Pipe. What do you think? Scheme? Or surrender to the soldier's favorite whore and get some sleep?"

"The whore can wait I won't pass out for another hour. Why don't we separate the possible from the impossible and eliminate the wishful thinking of the fools who believe in their God-given right to tell us what to do. Maybe we can amaze the world."

"You need to calm your ass down. Titus. Tell him. Three sorcerers at al-Khazen, Pipe. One of them a bigger bugfucker than the assholes who kicked the snot out of you in Brothe."

"Captain Ghort puts it crudely, but he's right. Three Sorcerers. Worth consideration, Colonel."

"You're right We have to take them into account They'll be waiting for us. Unfortunately, I don't have much experience with that sort of thing. Do you, Pinkus?"

"Zip. I make a point of avoiding that kind of shit. Which ain't so hard 'cause it seems like it's mainly a Praman end of problem."

Else noted a subtle shift in Consent's stance. Titus knew about Sonsa, then. What else had Stewpo passed along? Too many people knew too much about Else Tage. "The Special Office is a Praman problem?"

Ghort snorted, "Oh, hell yes! I bet you can't find a bigger carbuncle on Hellalawhosis's ass."

"Maybe. But that isn't really the point. We need to figure out what to do about the ones at al-Khazen."

"Not really."

"What?"

"I just realized, we don't need to worry about shit, Pipe. On account of, Grade Drocker is gonna tell us what to do.”

Titus Consent said, "A solid point Colonel. We won't be in charge."

"Wrong. I'll…"

Ghort said, "Pipe, stop for a while. Get your ass to sleep. Let's worry about shit after they tell us how much of it they want us to eat"

THE CITY REGIMENT ENTERED CALZIR ON A DAY CONSIDERED holy by all four religions claiming the Holy Lands as home. A coincidence. The calendars coincided only once each fifty-six years.

Hard little knots of ice whipped around, stinging cheeks. It was winter. Winter in a land with an old reputation for winter cruelty. The land presented a cold and barren face. Otherwise, Calzir's defenses were fantasies. They were the imaginings of adolescents. Despite examples brutally made earlier, every lesser noble or warlord encountered proved willing to swear allegiance to almost any name put before them. Many expressed a willingness to convert if they could retain their livings.

Ghort observed, "They'll change back if things turn to shit down south."

There was little south left. The coast lay just eighty miles beyond Pateni Persus.

Else nodded. "You notice that there aren't many people around?"

"Yep. And I don't think they're all hiding in the hills. They ran off to al-Khazen. They think the sorcerers can protect them."

"Maybe they will."

Else dealt with local chieftains by accepting oaths, taking hostages, and extracting supplies. He took his time. Grade Drocker did not hurry him. Drocker wanted more information about the enemy, too.

Else also hoped to find out what other columns were doing. The Emperor was supposed to get very busy throughout eastern Calzir.

Else asked, "That black crow still with us?" He meant Drocker. A Brotherhood force of four hundred was on the same road, behind die city regiment, but the commander of all Patriarchal crusaders insisted on traveling with the Brothen force.

"I keep hoping. But every time I drop back to check the rear, there he is. With his little flock. You got to give the fucker credit for determination."

Else did. He was glad that there were not many crusaders like the Special Office sorcerer.

"You think he's prescient?"

"He's who? Keep the words small enough for a country boy to handle, Pipe."

"Can he read the future?"

"Like an astrologer, or something?"

"Exactly like that."

"I don't know. Why?"

"I was wondering if that might not be why he's sticking close. Maybe he sees us stumbling into something and wants to be here when it happens."

"Shit You're getting scary, Pipe. How about you stop thinking so much about all the bad shit that can happen. Think about us finding a hoard of Praman gold we can steal and use to buy us a villa stocked with a troop of eager whores."

"I have a woman."

"You can suck the fricking joy out of any dream, can’t you?"

"You may be right. I become overly narrow, practical, and literal sometimes."

"Sometimes. You do tend to be." Sarcastically.

"Bad upbringing."

"Your whole family the same way?"

"Pretty much." There had been no frivolity in the Vibrant Spring School.

Seen through a western eye, all al-Prama took everything too seriously.

THE VEDETTES OUT FRONT MISSED THE CALZIRAN HORSEMEN hidden in a brushy valley to the left of the line of march. The scouts were overconfident and lazy, not to mention disinclined to range afar in the cold. The vanguard behind paid the price.

The van consisted of young horsemen from the Five Families. They were in constant competition. They did not want to embarrass their families in front of their rivals. They did not run. The attackers, no professionals themselves, broke off when help came up from farther back.

Grade Drocker arrived as Else walked over the bloody snow. The sorcerer announced, "They were Calziran horsemen. Inexperienced. But trained and led by Dreangerean Sha-lug."

Else agreed. But not out loud. Piper Hecht would not know that

"Shit," Ghort said. Do we know what they had for breakfast?"

Yes, Else thought. Most likely. But he just tried to look eager to learn from a man who had fought Pramans before.

Drocker's health remained fragile. He could not shake that cough, though the blood Gledius Stewpo feared had yet to show in his spittle.

Drocker was not inclined to teach. Nevertheless, he did explain, "The attack was classic Sha-lug. From ambush. On an exposed flank. All out, with saddle bow and javelin. But true Sha-lug would not have fled so soon."