He was saved a harsher grilling by the fact that the real Brotherhood soldiers started moving out. Their recruits followed.

Pico Mussi said, "Nuts. I'm going. We won't get a better deal anywhere else." He and his brother and their friend Gofit started getting ready to travel. Bo Biogna joined them. Then a few more did the same.

Else was unsure why he joined the others. Did he feel responsible for the kids? Was it because the man now calling himself Grade Drocker had done so much evil during his brief sojourn in Sonsa? He was sure Drocker and that monster were one and the same.

"All right I had my heart set on finding something cushy in Brothe. But there's nothing all that nasty going on around here."

The old soldier said, "Right, then. If you're coming, get moving."

Else tried not to notice that his companions seemed relieved because he was joining them. He did not want to become responsible for them.

THE STORY WAS, SUBLIME HAD SENT A MEMBER OF HIS OWN family into the Connec to see to the details of ensuring that the True Church did not suffer any more outrages at the hands of the heretics so common in that province. The heretics had responded by slaughtering the legate's bodyguards and leaving the legate himself sprawled upon death's stoop.

Soon afterward a team of assassins invaded the Palace at Viscesment with the intention of murdering the anti-Patriarch, Immaculate II. By the grace of God and the competence of Immaculate's company of Braunsknecht lifeguards the assassins all died before Immaculate knew that he was in danger.

Sublime was, naturally, suspect. And was, naturally, expected to denounce such behavior as soon as news of the failure got back to Brothe. Sublime was as blatantly hypocritical in serving his God as his deadliest enemies could imagine.

ELSE DEVELOPED MORE RESPECT FOR THE ANCIENT ENEMY. THE warriors he had faced in the Holy Lands were created from men like these youngsters, never short on courage and hardiness.

There was little hardship in the Brotherhood camp. The survivors of the embarrassment in Sonsa seemed to have everything they could possibly need.

Following his ejection from Sonsa, the sorcerer sailed to Brothe, where he gained an immediate audience with the Patriarch. He was on the road north the next day, with reinforcements out of Castella dollas Pontellas. He began recruiting immediately. Money was not a problem.

After weeks spent crossing the confusion of principalities forming Ormienden, the Brotherhood force went into camp on the lands of a monastery in the wine country of Dromedan, a tiny Episcopal state tucked into a corner where the Connec, Grohlsach, the Firaldian dependency Seline, and the Sorvine Principiate snuggled up to one another. There were no clearly defined boundaries. The End of Connec was not alone in its near independence. Ormienden was equally on its own, although carved up into numerous smaller feudalities that had obligations in many directions, including to Hansel Blackboots.

"It's worse up north, in the Empire," a career mercenary named Pinkus Ghort told Else. Ghort was a fellow enlistee who had betrayed his military experience, though with considerably less reluctance. He and Else had charge of companies of inexperienced recruits the majority of their training hours. The members of the Brotherhood were too few to manage everything in a camp that kept growing by the hour. "Even one solitary little town in the middle of one lonely little county can owe its allegiance to somebody who really ought to be the ancient enemy. But up there the problem is because of dowries, not confused inheritance rules."

"The Grail Emperor will straighten it all out."

"Sure, he will."

"You fail to impress me with your passion."

"Hansel can't do much. Almost anything he does try has to have the approval of the Electors."

"Uhm." Else tried to sound like he understood what Ghort was talking about. The west was far less monolithic and much more complex than had seemed plausible, viewed from al-Qarn.

"You got any guess what these lunatics are up to?" Pinkus Ghort was willing to take Brotherhood silver but did not think much of their divine ideology.

"I think we're just for show. The Patriarch wants to bully the Connec. The Connec keeps disdaining him. So he ups the ante by sending this crackpate Grade Drocker to conjure up a make-believe army as a boogerman to scare the Connec into line."

"Boogermen are real where I come from."

"Nobody could seriously expect this mob to actually do anything useful militarily."

"Where have you been working? I've seen a lot worse. Not that long ago, either. These guys are trying hard because they're actually getting paid good and fed well and the Brothers keep whipping them up with those rah-rah speeches." There Ghort went being sarcastic again. "You should've seen what we had to work with when we went out to Themes."

"You were part of that?"

"And on the Duke of Harmonechy's side, too."

"You were lucky, then."

"I was fast on my feet. Also, I saw it coming. I was ready for it. My point, though, is that the men who followed the Duke out there were the worst scum you can imagine. The Duke made no effort to train them and very little to arm them. Or to control them. It was ugly. Santerin did the world a favor by exterminating seventeen thousand of its worst two-legged beasts."

"And their leaders? The nobles?"

"They had horses, don't you know? Only a handful didn't get away. Those ended up getting ransomed."

The sorcerer remained invisible. But Else felt his presence constantly. Like the man was always right behind him, making his wrist itch. If he could just spin around fast enough… "Have you worked for the Brotherhood before?"

"No. Nobody has that I know of. This is a big old first. And it wouldn't have happened now if we didn't have Sublime for a Patriarch."

"You know if we're going to get that weapons delivery any time soon? I don't have enough to go around, even for training."

“They don't tell me anything they don't tell you. I'm more concerned about food." Summer would be over soon. "We can't sit here sucking up the area's surplus forever." The force had been in place below the Dencitл Monastery for more than a month, so long that whores, cheats, and sutlers had begun to build their own village just outside the bounds of the religious estate. "Here comes Bechter."

Redfearn Bechter was the Brother-sergeant responsible for the mercenaries. That was a huge load. He was willing to share it with Else, Pinkus Ghort, and several others. Else found him reminiscent of old Bone. He had seen it all. Only something truly unusual could shake him.

He seemed shaken now. His accent thickened. "Gentlemen, this cluster fuck is about to turn into the real thing. The wizard just got word that the heretics and their running dogs have the Bishop of Antieux treed in his manor house outside Antieux. The Patriarch himself says we have to do something about that."

"What?" Else asked in disbelief. "That's sheer lunacy."

Ghort said, "A local bishop has a manor house? In the wine country?" Ghort appreciated wine. He talked about it a lot. And experimented with it a lot because the Ormienden region was famous for its fine vintages. "Since when do priests … ?"

"Never mind," Bechter said. "Thinking isn't in your job description. Or mine. Anyway, I'm not saying we are going to go. I'm saying there's a chance we might go. It isn't official yet. Call it a warning order. So you can look like you know, what you're doing if movement orders do come down."

Ghort said, "I beg your pardon. My excitement overcame me for a moment." Pinkus Ghort was long on sarcasm and irony.