Faded Steel Heat

95

My return must have been portentous for North English. Fifteen minutes after I entered his house I was alone with him in his dimly lighted sanctum. His expression suggested he was unnaturally interested in what I would have to say. Before he could ask me anything I inquired, "Are you aware that every man on the grounds knows what happened the other night? Not the official version but the version you told me?" If the men knew, then Tama must know. Might be a good time to find out if she had formed any opinions.

A darkness stirred behind Marengo's eyes. Perhaps it was veiled anger. He growled, "I didn't tell anyone but you." He watched me intently. I don't know what he expected.

"And I never told a soul," I lied. Then I mused, "You did say that the men who attacked you looked like they belonged to the movement."

North English grunted. He must've thought about that more than he wanted to admit. He must've taken it to heart. The kid who had walked me to the house had told me Marengo was hiding out today, letting no one in to see him but Tama. There were no bodyguards around so maybe he was getting paranoid about everybody.

I told him, "I saw Belinda. She swears she had nothing to do with the attack, nor was she responsible for that invitation. I believe her."

North English's style was becoming plebian. He grunted again, evidently preoccupied with rearranging furniture inside his head. He didn't seem surprised by what I'd just said. Eventually he pulled himself together, and urged, "Tell me what you think."

I offered some ideas that had occurred to me during the walk from town. Marengo continued more attentive than ever before. Somehow he must've come to the conclusion that I was a real person.

"You're convinced there's a connection between Brotherhood Of The Wolf and this Black Dragon gang?"

"There's no absolute proof but the circumstantial evidence looks strong to me."

"And this's something you just came up with on the way out here?"

"Oh, no. The Guard are looking at the possibilities from another angle. There may have been a previous connection during the war. And the shapeshifters may be associated with Glory Mooncalled somehow."

It was obvious that was something Marengo didn't want to hear. "You have a plan?" The North English I wanted to believe in, the one who could contemplate mass extinctions without qualm, seemed about to emerge from behind the mask. Marengo sounded harder and more angry by the minute.

I said, "I have some ideas. There'll be risks. Do you have any men you trust completely? Bearing in mind that the Brotherhood Of The Wolf was practically your bodyguard."

Hard Marengo glared. He didn't like my plan already.

"I can find men on my own. If you prefer." Like he was in whether or not he liked it.

"Talk to me."

I explained. He frowned a lot. He seemed confused by several points, like his memory was a little rocky. He muttered to himself, interrupted himself to ask, "Does this mean you've lost interest in the library?"

"Pretty much." What the hell brought that on? I reviewed briefly, then continued.

Marengo asked, "Will Weider cooperate?"

"I think so." Putting words into the Old Man's mouth.

"I'd guess so, too. He'll want to balance the books. How many men will you want?"

"Say twenty? Enough to put up a fight even if a few aren't trustworthy."

"Good. Good. When do you want to do it?" He seemed eager to cooperate now.

Marengo North English seemed a different man when he wasn't "on" in front of his followers. No sense of conviction came off him at all.

"As soon as we can. Which would be tomorrow night at the earliest, probably. There's a lot to pull together."

"At this end, too. But I think we need to do it. Find Nagit. Don't tell him anything, just send him to me. I'll talk to him, then send him along with you to run messages. So you don't have to ride out here and back every few hours."

"All right. But I wouldn't be riding, I'd be walking."

As I started toward the door he demanded, "Why the hell don't you get a horse?"

I thought he knew. "I need the exercise." They must've done some research on me. That was common sense.

He smiled wickedly. "That's right." And now I got the feeling he did know all about me. I had the feeling that he was taunting me somehow. Or maybe he was just letting me know that I wasn't inside anything here yet and there was no way I was going to get inside. This was a marriage of convenience only.

North English suggested, "Tell Nagit to dredge you up some decent clothing. It'd be a shame if everything went in the shitter because you got dumped into a vagrants' home."

The shitter? Why would he, suddenly, start using language like that? It didn't fit the superior-race image.

96

I ran into Tama in the hallway outside. She was carrying tea and rolls for two. The tea smelled good. She seemed delighted to see me, yet infinitely suspicious. "Will you stay a little longer this time?" Her voice husked. My spine quivered. My knees jellied. Boy, could she suggest a lot without saying anything.

Her smile broadened. It told me Tinnie wasn't here to save me this time. I gobbled, "I wish I could." She slithered closer. Long, dark fingers spidered up my chest to my hair, my cheek, then drifted down again. The woman was pure devil.

"Some chances come once in a lifetime. Are you done in there?"

"Uhm." I was done. I was crispy around the edges. "I need to find Mr. Nagit." I gulped. Seemed like I needed an awful lot of air suddenly.

"He went out to the stables. Probably trying to stay out of Colonel Theverley's way. They don't get along. Do take advantage of the tea while it's hot."

She stepped very close again. That demon hand... Marengo North English was one lucky man. She never stopped smiling and never turned off the raw animal attraction. I took a cup and stared and tried to find my lost breath as she went on to serve Marengo.

I don't know what Tinnie meant. Tama's behind didn't look bony at all. In fact...

I found Mr. Nagit out back. He couldn't have been more thrilled to see me if I'd been the old boy with the sickle. But he was a gentleman. He was polite. I told him what I thought he needed to know. "He's going to plug the leak? Wonderful. Then the attack did wake him up."

"Do I detect a tremor of distrust of the high command's wisdom?"

Weak smile. "You are a detective. Yes. I've had to stand around in the background, keeping my mouth shut, during an ongoing debate about how much it matters if somebody warns the Other Races that we're coming. I thought the boss had yielded to the majority opinion, that it doesn't."

"The boss might be smarter and tougher than people think. He might be sandbagging."

Nagit grunted. "The one thing they're all forgetting, or just don't want to remember, is that Glory Mooncalled is out there somewhere. Nobody wants to listen when I say he's dealt himself into the game."

"I'll listen. Because you're right. I think he's in the game big. I just don't know how. Yet. But you're right. Marengo didn't like that idea at all when I brought it up."

"He's been a little odd since the attack. More so today. Today he's staying locked up in there, not letting anyone in but the Montezuma woman. You'll want a change of clothes before we go. Right?"

"So many people disapprove of my wardrobe, I just have to assume that that might be appropriate. And I wouldn't mind borrowing a few knives and whatnot, so I'll feel more comfortable while I'm roaming around."

"I expect we can find you a nice outfit and a suite of cutlery." There was something sly about the way he said that. "Pick yourself a horse while you're out here."

"Uh... "

"I'm giving up my time to help you, Garrett. You'll make a few accommodations for me, too."

What was this? Did everybody in Karenta know I don't get along with horses?

Probably everybody who's already fallen under the sway of those monsters did. They gossiped behind my back. Those strange people who actually like the beasts probably understand what they're saying, somehow.

I grumbled, "Point me toward the old plodders."

"If that's what you want. Personally, I'd rather have something that could get up some speed if we ran into those centaurs."

"What?"

"There's a large band of centaurs in the area. On the move. Just as you told us. The colonel has patrols out looking for them." Mr. Nagit sounded like he begrudged having to say anything positive about Theverly. "The patrols haven't been able to pin them down. They're doing better watching us than we're doing finding them."

I made masculine noises. "As long as we know where they're not."

"Luck won't love you forever, Garrett. Pick a good horse."

Seemed to me luck wanted a trial separation already. "All right. I'll go to the library and wait when I'm done. Don't forget to see the boss."

"I'd like to. I've got troubles enough without having to hold his hand and run his errands."

Dang me. Sounded like there was disillusionment in paradise. "What's going on?"

"Besides the centaurs? I've got another dead man. I've got a missing man. And I've got a man missing a limb. I've got livestock scattered everywhere. I've got berserk thunder lizards staggering around biting everything that moves—including each other. And I've got a self-proclaimed hero-of-the-soldiers colonel who's completely indifferent to all those problems."

I lifted an eyebrow high. That works differently when you show it to a man. "What happened?" In a tone hopefully dripping empathy.

"The shitstorm started last night when Venable's pets went crazy. They spooked the cattle and sheep, went after each other, tore up Venable's other arm when he tried to get them under control, and killed somebody, apparently an outsider, who's torn up too badly to identify. Tollie was missing this morning but the corpse isn't him because the dead man was shorter, fatter, and older than the kid. I say the dead man must be a stranger because none of the other men are missing."

"And Venable's pets only attack strangers."

"Says Venable."

"Even this morning?"

"Even this morning. He claims they had to be poisoned or ensorcelled. Which is a troubling notion, too. And Theverly could care less about that, either. I'm not a man who swears much, Mr. Garrett, but I do wish this shit would come to an end and we could concentrate on our mission."

I asked several professionally oriented questions, all of which had occurred to Mr. Nagit and none of which had yet generated conclusive answers. He grumbled, "None of that matters anymore because right now I've got no greater mission than to go get orders to join you in your adventures, probably mainly so I can bang you over the head if you manage to irritate the boss or his honey."

"I detect a note of disaffection, perhaps complicated by a dollop of cynicism."

"Not a note, Mr. Garrett. A whole damned opera. I'd leave if there was anywhere better to go. But where? Bondurant Altoona? Arnes Mingle? The sad part is, this, here, is as good as it gets. Parker! I need you."

Mr. Nagit drafted Parker to help me with a mount, then stalked off. I started my search. I looked each beast directly in the eye, hunting for fast and strong but stupid enough to have no intellect left over for malice. Reluctantly, I made a choice and had her prepared.

On my way I encountered Mr. Nagit's favorite colonel, Moches Theverly. Evidently Theverly didn't remember that we'd served together in the islands. At least he didn't seem inclined to drop everything and rehash old times. He didn't seem inclined to acknowledge my existence. And that was fine with me. There might come a moment when I didn't want him to recall who I was.

I noticed that he still surrounded himself with the same cronies he'd had years ago. And still projected the same air of immense competence. And still bore the scars of the wounds that had gotten him pulled out just before the big Venageti hammer came down on those of us who stayed behind.

I studied him while I had the chance and soon decided that he probably didn't signify in anything that was going on with me. He was just somebody who happened to be around, an actor who walked across the stage.

I amused myself sorting books and snatching peeks at anything that sounded intriguing until, after a much longer delay than I expected, Mr. Nagit showed up with a selection of personal weaponry and a change of clothing I didn't find quite suitable. "A uniform?" I complained.

"It's all that's available." That amused Nagit. No doubt he'd conspired to contrive a shortage of more normal apparel.

"Don't get the idea that because I'm wearing the suit I'm one of the troops. Next time I enlist I plan to start my career as a general."

"And work your way to the bottom, I suppose. Listen, Garrett. The Call wouldn't take you in if you did want to join. You're one big old tangle of unanswered questions and nobody wants to bother digging."

And just a few days ago everybody in the rights racket wanted to sign me on, for the full nightmare. When I still had a nonhuman partner and friends of questionable ethnic purity. I must've stopped being the ideal recruit while I was looking the other way.

Maybe Black Dragon Valsung still wanted me. Or Brotherhood Of The Wolf. We could let bygones be bygones. Couldn't we?

As I dressed I chewed on the sour certainty that my position had been marginalized all along, by everyone. They'd all wanted me to poke hornets' nests somewhere else but hadn't wanted me getting intimate with their own schemes. I was a ball bouncing randomly off any number of walls. No more than what Morley would call a finagle or a confusion factor. A bee annoying everybody.

"Not a bad fit," I said, checking over each shoulder. "The styling is a little too army but I do look almost dashing."

"The ladies will swoon." Mr. Nagit fought a smile.

I asked, "You ever see Glory Mooncalled?"

"What?" I'd startled him with the sudden shift. "No, I don't know anybody who has. Why?"

"I just wondered. I used to have a partner. He practically worshipped Glory Mooncalled. Because of his irreverent attitude." Though I couldn't imagine how someone could be more establishmentarian than a Loghyr gone sedentary. For folks like that revolution or change were not Good Things.

"Used to be a lot of that going around. You don't hear much of it anymore. Suppose we get this circus rolling? The sooner we handle it the sooner I come back home."

"I'm ready." I looked myself over again. I wasn't pleased. I looked like one of the boys. I hoped that didn't confuse me or anyone else.

Tama Montezuma was in the hallway talking to somebody when we left the library. The guy scowled at us. Mr. Nagit glared back. I paid the man no mind because Tama turned on the heat and made herself the focus of my existence. "Garrett? Look at you. Why'd they ever let you out of uniform?" The guy she was with sidled off past Mr. Nagit, plainly unhappy that anyone else was getting Miss Montezuma's attention. Men are that way. We can't help it.

Tama's eyes seemed twice as big as normal. What a case! Every woman I ran into seemed determined to fry my brain.

Mr. Nagit said, "Garrett."

"Uh. Yeah." He was Marengo's right hand. "Sorry, Miss Montezuma. Got to run. Work to do."

She smiled a smile both promising and predatory, moved on down the hall.

I just couldn't imagine where Tinnie got the idea that Tama was bony. "Whew!" I said.

Mr. Nagit agreed. "Yeah. What was that all about?"

When Tinnie was with me he'd seemed a normal, red-blooded Karentine sort of guy. "What?"

"That woman doesn't take a deep breath unless it has something to do with her meal ticket. And she just took you over the jumps."

"My ego can't handle it."

"Huh?"

"She wants to throw the boss over for me."

"Exactly. I thought she seemed extremely nervous."

Were we speaking the same language?

When we stepped out of the house I checked to see what the clouds were doing. My earlier expectations wouldn't be disappointed. Rain was coming. A real disappointment stood closer to hand. The horse I'd chosen now looked terribly ferocious for a swaybacked mare almost my own age. And then there were the dozen guys in freecorps outfits all looking like they were headed for the parade ground. I did a quick, paranoid scan of armbands, making sure noboby was dumb enough to wear his Brotherhood Of The Wolf allegiance on his sleeve.

"Is this necessary?"

"Somebody has to run messages. And those unfriendly centaurs are still out there."

Unfriendly to you, fellow.

I felt vulnerable despite having acquired a cutlery sampler.

Something slammed down on my shoulder. For an instant I thought an ogre had jumped me from behind, but when I turned my head I found myself beak to beak with the Goddamn Parrot. "Damn! I thought I lost you for good." I told Mr. Nagit, "You know, these things live a really long time. Someday you're going to want to have a family. Think how much fun your kids could have with their own talking bird."

"I wouldn't deprive your own future scions of the opportunity to enjoy such a wonderful experience." He laughed.

Him and his pals found my plight entertaining. Not one of them wanted his own talking shoulder ornament, no matter how dashing the look. I gathered my dignity and mounted up, getting it right way forward first try. I mouthed the notes of the trumpet call for charge and off we rode. A three-legged centaur would've had no trouble running me down.

97

Gilbey didn't like my idea even a little. "We don't want any more trouble here, Max."

The Old Man turned the letter Mr. Nagit had given him, as though Marengo might have scribbled a secret postscript on its blank side. He saw only what I saw, which was the North English seal. "We'll do it, Manvil." He turned the letter again. Whatever North English's message, it made a difference; but it left his old friend Max puzzled. North English's word obviously was gold to Weider. "Clear the great hall again." Wan smile. "Let this young gentleman's friends help." That was a subtle dismissal of Nagit and Gilbey both.

"Will this work, Garrett?"

"I don't know. My record hasn't been outstanding lately."

"No. It hasn't. On the other hand, most of our troubles could've been avoided if we'd listened to you in the first place. I understand that you're handicapped by the head start I allowed evil. But who could believe that such things might happen?" The latter he directed toward himself.

"North English will send in freecorps people he trusts. I assume you trust him. But, even so, I intend to bring in friends of my own."

"Whatever you think of the man, Garrett, he's my friend."

I confessed, "I do see him through different eyes. I'll also bring in some Guards people that Colonel Block trusts. Everybody can watch everybody. It'll be like party night at the pickpockets' hall."

Wan smile. "You missed the funerals."

"You had them already?" Of course he had. It was summertime.

"This morning. Early."

"I'm sorry. Nobody told me. I would've been there."

"No matter. You were doing the work of the Lord. I hope."

Max wasn't demonstratively religious but he did belong to one of the old-time hellfire and brimstone, rip off an arm for a finger and a head for an eye type of cults. Because of Hannah's incapacity he'd gradually lost interest in the workaday details of brewing the world's best beers. He remained the grand lord of the brewery with the final say about everything but he had abandoned the detail management to Ty and the brewmasters. I feared Hannah's passing might cause him to turn away from the business altogether and possibly even from life.

"Vengeance is mine."

"Can you pull it together by tomorrow?"

"I can." But I'd be one tired boy when I was done.

"Good. You'd better get started."

Now I was being dismissed.

As I opened the study door, Max said, "Lose the uniform, Garrett. If you're going to be roaming around alone, you don't want to ask for more trouble."

Max was right.

The comings and goings of freecorps messengers got noticed. The news spread at the speed of rumor. Tension soon filled the streets. Tempers grew shorter fast.

I had arrangements of my own to make. I couldn't use Nagit's men or brewery hands to complete them.

My proud destrier and I put on the miles.

I visited The Palms. Morley told me he could make it and he suspected that Puddle and Sarge and a few of the boys wouldn't mind a party, either. I left a message for Belinda, which Dotes promised to have delivered. Then I dropped in on Playmate, who not only was available and willing but saved me several hours by knowing where Saucerhead Tharpe was holed up. I then swooped down on Heaven's Gate where I talked to Trail and Storey and Miss Trim and, unfortunately, Medford Shale. Since I didn't have a keg under either arm or any treats for Shale any welcome was less than enthusiastic.

Shale could just keep on wondering why nobody came to visit him.

My weather-prediction skills proved acute. It was late afternoon when I went to see Saucerhead. It was raining. At times the downpour turned unseasonably ferocious.

Through everything the Goddamn Parrot never made a sound. That critter had to be trying to spook me out. Not that I missed the old, foul-beaked Mr. Big. Not even a little.

"Playmate's in. Morley's in," I told Tharpe, who wanted convincing. "The Dead Man might be in. If I can find him. And I particularly need you in. I don't think I can make it all happen without you." Of course I could. But everyone wants to be wanted, Saucerhead more so than most. And I had some special requests, each of which I explained carefully.

The big guy grumbled, "Gonna be a major pain, Garrett. That's a lot of work."

"You got something else going?" In the past he'd always had a good work ethic.

"Not really. Winger had an idea about—"

"You've got to get away from her, man. You ever notice how she never gets hurt in any of her schemes?"

"Yeah. I know. It's not real nice but... All right, Garrett! Don't start that shit. I really hate it when somebody reminds me that I owe him."

I offered an evil chuckle reminiscent of the one I'd last heard from Colonel Block.

The head Guardsman was next on my list. I hit the street once I finished twisting Saucerhead's... uh... giving Mr. Tharpe his instructions. With cold water drizzling down the back of my neck. I have to get myself one of those big-ass riding cloaks now that I'm a cavalier.

"That a horse?" Saucerhead called after me, from the tenement doorway. "Are you riding a horse?" He didn't mention the condition of the monster. "I've seen everything now. It really must be important. I better get on this right away." He had a hat on his head already.

How many times have I said he and Winger didn't have sense enough to get in out of the rain? Made me wonder. He did have sense enough to wear a hat while he was out in it.

Pular Singe caught me leaving the Al-Khar, after I made arrangements with Block, who guaranteed Relway's cooperation. The good colonel was in a festive mood. An attempt to rescue Gerris Genord had been crushed without Guard casualties. One invader was dead. Two now shared Genord's cell. A couple of others, whose interest had been Crask and Sadler instead of their old pal Gerris, had gotten out again.

Very interesting.

I hated myself for thinking Singe looked like a drowned rat. But I couldn't help it. She did. A drowned rat in a wet shirt. "I hoped your people would notice me running around... Where'd you get the shirt?" It used to be mine. It was Tad Weider's before that.

"From the stuff you threw away. It would be a sin to let that go to waste."

The shirt didn't flatter her. Ratpeople just aren't put together like human people. "You could get trouble from the shapechangers."

She tried to smile. It was an obvious, conscious effort to ape the human expression. "They have been disappointed already. Many times."

The clothes had gotten scattered amongst Reliance's dependents. And they didn't care if the shirts had been tagged.

"I'm glad to hear it. What about my tools?"

"Tools?" She didn't understand. I reminded me to keep it simple and slow. She might be a genius of her kind but she was still ratpeople.

"The weapons I was carrying." That stuff wasn't cheap. Even when you took most of it away from the bad boys you ran into. Still, with a little creative billing amongst my various employers... Heh-heh-heh.

"I do not know."

I tried to recall if any could be traced to me or the Weiders if they turned up at the scene of some major villainy. I didn't think so. "Would Reliance let you go out to a party tomorrow night?"

I knew I'd picked the wrong words even before the Goddamn Parrot loosed the first noise to pass his beak in hours. Slow and simple, stupid. Before she leapt too far in her conclusions.

I said, "I'll be working there. I want to hire you to unmask the creatures with no scent. Nobody is as good as you are." I couldn't restrain a grin, which seemed to help. But it was sure misplaced.

What must people think of this rain-bedraggled crew, hatless me, a soggy parrot scrunched on my shoulder, leading a moth-eaten antique horse, practically hand in hand with a ratgirl who looked like she'd been drowned once then thrown back for good measure?

The thought made me look around for witnesses. By chance I glimpsed another drowned rat. "Did you know Fenibro is following you?"

Singe's immediate anger made it clear the wannabe boyfriend hadn't been invited. "I told him not to... " I couldn't follow what she said.

"It isn't important. Maybe Reliance sent him to watch out for you."

"One day Reliance will learn that I am not a belonging." I caught that easily enough. She added, "It may take a very painful lesson. I will help you look for the shapechangers." In seconds her enunciation had become nearly flawless.

"Speaking of whom. Are they still holed up in that old brewery?"

"Yes." Singe looked over her shoulder. She showed her teeth in an unfeminine threat display. If I'd been Fenibro I'd have gotten the hell out of there fast.