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"Really and truly," Nowak said. She told the person at the other end to stand by. "Chatter says they've captured a Kurian alive. It may be the old bastard himself. They've sealed him inside a glass fish tank, and a couple Cats and a Bear team are hauling ass back for the river."
"Has that ever happened before?"
"If it had, guys like us wouldn't have heard of it," Nowak said in a tone that indicated she was smiling. "Of course, they're yakking about it almost in the clear. Might be a diversion trying to sucker in a big effort to recapture him, catch the patrol under our guns."
The sun was visible.
Valentine smelled food cooking. He suspected that if they moved out again, his troops, in their uniforms designed to confuse identification, might have to lead the way again. Best see if they could be relieved and get them fed, to keep their strength up for the next lap.
Valentine organized the distribution of hot chicory coffee and sand-wiches for his strung-out platoons. Jolly had a quick meeting, showing the next route that they'd take as soon as a few more companies of Guards arrived, and set the next leg of the march to begin at noon in any case. Seng wanted everyone through the Goobermaker's lands and out the other end, heading for Kentucky, as soon as possible.
A tired-looking figure in black rode into camp on a lather-streaked mule. It was Brother Mark under a thick coat of dirt and dead twigs. He dismounted stiffly, handed his mount to groom, and tottered to the field kitchen.
Valentine found a folding camp stool and brought it to him.
"You have my profound gratitude, son," he said, seating himself. "You wouldn't know if my baggage has been unloaded?"
"You need a change of clothes?" Valentine asked. Brother Mark smelled of sweat and smoke.
"My goosedown pillow. I've been on my feet or in my saddle since ... is it Sunday already?
Since Friday morning. I feel as though I could sleep propped up against that wall over there."
"I thought only the Wolves went over before Saturday night."
"Oh, I was well ahead of them. Meetings to attend. You can remove that ridiculous tinfoil now, young man. Not that it ever provided anything but psychological comfort."
Valentine would have liked nothing better-his skin felt itchy and he had sweat in his eyes-but decided to wait for official orders.
"Meetings?" Valentine asked, since Brother Mark seemed in a mood to answer questions.
He dipped a doughnut in his coffee and ate half of it. "Yes, concerning the settlement of the estate of the late Ri-Icraktisus. I beg your understanding-the Goobermaker, you boys call her. The Goobermaker's estate."
Valentine felt the ground beneath his feet tilt. "Who attended this meeting?"
"Some of the local Kurians," Brother Mark said, pulling off his boots and socks. "He was quite unpopular with the Nashville clan, and Memphis only just tolerated him because of his military acumen. When she switched over to female and started budding off her own clan, that was the last straw. The feel went out that Memphis was willing to withdraw her support...."
He rubbed a finger between his toes, sniffed, and made a face. "If I were in the old bishop's palace, after a night like that I'd take a steam with pair of flexible fourteen-year-olds scrubbing me down. I'm reduced to cleaning my own feet. I wish I could indulge my humanist patriotism in a more comfortable manner."
"You're saying the Kurians ganged up on one of their own?" Valentine wasn't sure what he had a harder time believing: Southern Command helping other Kurians bring down the Goobermaker or Brother Mark, ostensibly a high Church renegade, meeting with other Kurians and returning alive to tell.
"Not so much ganged up as withdrew their minds from her contact, leaving her rather alone at a key moment. Once the conspiracy started, everyone wanted to join. There's an old proverb from the Silk Road: A falling camel attracts many knives."
"So the tinfoil was pointless?"
"Not pointless. Useless, maybe, but it did its job. Everyone was afraid to set foot on this side of the river near that great tower. It gave the troops confidence. I understand the Bears were quite a sight, blowing open holes in the bottom of the tower with turbans of glittering foil wrapped around their heads."
"Those Kurians are not going to be happy when we march into Kentucky," Valentine said.
"Memphis or Nashville don't give two figs about the legworm ranchers. The only ones who claim control over central Kentucky is the Ordnance up in Ohio, and they're happy to cause trouble for them. They see it as removing two turds with one flush. Is that how you say it? I'm still not used to all this colorful cracker-barrel talk you fighting men use down here."
"There's a rumor that she was captured."
"No, one of her detached buds. Developed enough to inherit much of her mind. He may prove useful."
Valentine tried to digest that. "How do you meet-"
Patel walked up, using the help of his metal-tipped hickory cane. When in front of the men, he mostly used it as a pointer or to scratch maps in the dirt.
