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.