When the Saints

CHAPTER 30

Madlenka set off toward the great hall, meaning to check on the last of the wounded, but before she reached the door, she realized that it was no longer being used as the infirmary. Beds and priests had gone and the castle staff were celebrating. A band with more enthusiasm than style was banging, blowing, and scraping away. She beat a fast retreat before someone tried to drag her into the frenzy.

She went in search of her mother. Dowager Countess Edita was having a private celebration in her very restricted new quarters, entertaining her closest cronies, Noemi and Ivana. She looked up with disapproval at her daughter’s somewhat haphazard attire and offered a lukewarm invitation to join them, which Madlenka politely declined.

Carrying a lantern, she entered her dressing room and closed the door. She had taken two steps when the bolt clicked behind her. She swung around, and the door was indeed now bolted. Wulf? Could it be Wulf returned? Trembling with a strange mixture of fear and excitement, she raised her lantern high. There was no one else in the dressing room. A light was burning in her bedroom. She hastened there.

On the stool sat Sybilla, still dressed in grandeur. “You took your time,” she said.

Madlenka’s feet wanted her to spin around and flee. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“To rescue Wulfgang, of course. He’s cute and he’s valuable.”

“You? You think you can rescue him from the Inquisition?”

It seemed absurd, and yet the daughter of Lady Umbral might be a much more powerful person than her years suggested.

“The Inquisition doesn’t have him,” Sybilla said, in the sort of tone used with a very slow child. “So far. But we must act quickly, before he wakes up and other Speakers can locate him.”

“You know where he is?” A wisp of hope quivered like an early snowdrop in a wintery blast. Sybilla could be trusted to tell the truth sometimes, her cadger had said.

The girl smirked. “Of course I know where he is! I opened the gate for Father Giulio and his musclemen. Wasn’t that tall one a dream? Now get dressed in the best you have.”

“Where is he?”

“Hidden right under the Inquisition’s nose. Move! You have work to do. First you need to meet someone. He’s at the ball, so we must go there.”

“Me? What can I do? Aren’t you Wulf’s cadger? That makes you manager of one of the most valuable properties in Christendom right now. Have you any idea…? No, of course you don’t. You can ask the earth for him. So get dressed, and I’ll help.”

“Wulf is not for sale!”

Sybilla sighed deeply at such stupidity. “His talent is! Speakers serve other people, very rich, important, powerful people. For that they are greatly rewarded, and they are protected. A Speaker on his own would be like a mad dog, dangerous and out of control, responsible to no one. Now get dressed!”

Madlenka turned and headed back to her dressing room, but her head continued to whirl. Was this a dangerous trap, or just a stupid prank? Or could it be real? Most valuable property in Christendom?

“How long is this going to take?”

“Ten minutes? Have you more important things to do than rescue your lover from the worst death imaginable?”

Of course not. “What’s in it for you?”

Sybilla had followed her and laughed joyfully. “Now you’re starting to talk sense! Always ask that question, even if just to yourself. The man you are about to meet is my brother, who has a problem. Wulf can help him. And he can help Wulf. These things are always quid pro quo. Heaven bless us, is that the best you’ve got? It looks like Justina’s wedding dress from eighty years ago.”

Impudent brat!

Madlenka dropped the offending garment and reached for another, simpler one. “It takes hours to pin me into that,” she agreed. “I’ll wear this one.” And she wouldn’t try to compete with all the other Sybillas at the ball. She was a backwoods nymph, and could never hope to score in that sort of contest.

Her companion looked doubtful. “You’ll look as if you just escaped from a nunnery kitchen. But you’re probably right. Businesslike, not frivolous. After all, you’re not going to be presented to the king. Now, let me see what shoes you’ve got here…”

“Where is this ball? this bax201D; Madlenka asked in sudden alarm.

“In the Louvre Palace.”

“In Paris?”

“That’s where it was when I left it. To celebrate the Eve of St. Michael the Archangel… Listen!” Sybilla abandoned the shoe basket. “I’ll go back there so people won’t start wondering where I’ve gone, and I’ll cut Louis out of the pack and arrange a rendezvous somewhere private. You do the best you can and I’ll come back for you in, what? Twenty minutes?”

“Twenty minutes,” Madlenka agreed, now talking to empty air.

She was adjusting her hat in the mirror and wondering if she had gone crazy or was having an especially wicked nightmare when Sybilla appeared behind her.

“Mm… I suppose that will have to do. The Grand Promenade is due to start in half an hour and we must complete our negotiations before that. Ready?”

“No.” Madlenka spoke firmly. “Who is this brother and what is his problem and how can Wulf-”

“Gramercy! All right. Fair questions.” Sybilla sat on the bed, perching on the extreme edge to show that she was not planning to stay. “You know that yesterday the baron went to see Cardinal Zdenek? Well…”

“No. Otto did?”

“Yes, Otto did. Listen to me! He reported that Wulf had moved Anton to Gallant and Anton had established himself as count, but he pointed out that the Wends were known to have at least one Speaker on their side and probably others, so Wulf was going to need help. Zdenek agreed. He sent one of his hirelings to a secret place he knows of, to deliver a message. And late last night, or very early this morning, Lady Umbral and Justina went to Mauvnik to meet with him.”

Madlenka nodded. “That was the meeting that the priest mentioned?” So far it made sense, if one could adjust to a world of magic.

“Yes.” Sybilla babbled on, like a pebbly brook. “Lady Umbral agreed to let Justina help Wulf for a few days, but she and the Spider disagreed on the price. For months now Zdenek has been hawking Princess Laima around the aristocracy of Europe, wanting to see her betrothed while he can still control the terms and take his cut. Lady Umbral wanted her for my brother. My half-brother, not her son. He’s Louis of Rouen and he will impress you. Zdenek refused, saying that the contract had already been initialed. They settled on dividing Wulf one-third-two-thirds between them.”

“Oh, did they?”

Sybilla grinned, looking even younger than usual. “I’m sure neither intended to keep their word, and Mother soon learned that no contract had been signed yet, so Zdenek was lying and the game was still on. Understand?”

Madlenka understood some of it, but this was not her world and she was going to have to learn very fast. Baron Otto would be the one to consult. And Wulf himself, of course.

“How do you split a Speaker?”

“ Never use that word! Why do you think we have all these codes? He’s your falcon. When he’s under contract, he’s a client’s hireling. Zdenek employs five hirelings and flies no falcons of his own, so far as I know. He wanted to be Wulf’s cadger and let Lady Umbral be his client for four months of the year. Now come along and meet Louis.”

The room was a bedchamber, bright with many candles, their light glittering on gilt and crystal and fine enamel. The only occupant was a youngish man sitting on a chair, the only chair. The window drapes were purple velvet; the carpet was thick and soft. A huge crystal mirror above the dressing shelf made the place seem less cramped than it really was. The door stood ajar, admitting sounds of distant music.

The man sprang up and bowed. Sybilla made introductions. Madlenka curtseyed; he kissed her fingers.

Yes, he impressed. For some reason she had expected an effete courtly fop, although she had never met such a creature, for there were none in the hills of Cardice. Louis was not that. He was not unlike Wulf, in fact, although a little older-broad, deep-chested, and muscular, as evidenced by the calves filling his hose. His face was more craggy than handsome, and certainly not soft or feminine, but he had a wonderful smile that flaunted a complete set of white teeth. He was clean-shaven of course, bronzed and of fair complexion, although not flaxen like Wulf. His eyes were gray, not golden, and his clothes had cost a coach and four.

Yes, so far he impressed.

He gestured at the other chair. “Do please sit here, ma’am.” His Latin was much better than hers, and her French was too despicable to try. “Sister, you will have to settle for the bed, I fear.”

He dropped on one knee and leaned his forearms on the other. It was the attitude of a humble petitioner, and made him seem eager and attentive. Sybilla closed the door and sat as directed.

“Ma’am, will you pardon my atrocious manners if I come straight to the point? My sister and I must soon return to the ball and the longer we talk, the more people are likely to start spying on us.”

“Please do, m’sieur.”

He nodded graciously. He did have a wonderful smile, and knew how to usnew how e it.

“I am a suitor for the hand of your beautiful princess. Yes, I have seen her, although we live at opposite ends of Christendom, but I would not admit that if I had not been assured that you are one of the Wise.” He shot a twinkling glance at his Speaker sister. “Laima has beauty to make fire flow in the veins of any man. Her wit and grace are well known. I concede that I am far from her only suitor, and very far from the greatest.”

Madlenka must say something. “But not the least favored, I am certain.”

“You flatter, ma’am. Here in France I am the youngest son of a marquis, which is better than being a schoolmaster, but in Jorgary, I would be a prince. My offer to your sovereign, King Konrad, included a pledge that I would reside in your country and learn to speak your vernacular tongue, whereas most other suitors would expect the lovely Laima to go and live with them in their homelands. I am sure that difference would matter to her, but I doubt if her opinions are of importance, alas, or even known. I am not rich; my estates bring in a few thousand livres a month, but that is penury by royal standards. I cannot increase my original offer to your esteemed Cardinal Zdenek, which was one-half of whatever dowry the princess brings to the marriage.”

One-half…? Madlenka must have let her outrage show, because he shrugged. Graciously, of course.

“Alas, it is to be expected. That is how ‘arrangements’ are made, and others will have offered him more. Because of my own circumstances, more than one-half would be unfair to my bride, exposing our poverty to the shame of all.”

Then Louis paused to let her comment. Her mind spun frantically. She was not accustomed to managing the most valuable livestock in Christendom, or whatever Sybilla had called Wulf. But, of course, there was something very obviously missing.

“You want me to contract my, um, falcon’s services to Cardinal Zdenek, so he will agree to accept you as Princess Laima’s husband?” She took his nod as acceptance. She thought he was hiding his amusement at her fumbling attempts at negotiation. “And what are you offering me, as his cadger?”

That smile again…

“I have an uncle who stands very high in the Church. He will do all he can to further my suit. He could provide your falcon with a papal absolution for any past misdeeds. Sybilla has established that your handfasting to Anton was highly irregular and not properly explained to you in advance. You were subjected to unseemly pressure. A papal order to your bishop to annul it would be included.”

Stars danced and birds sang. Then clouds of doubt swept in. “According to a reliable source, His Holiness has already prejudged the case and found my, um, falcon, guilty of Satanism.” Madlenka looked to Sybilla for confirmation, since she was the source in question.

Sybilla nodded impatiently.

Louis said, “I expect that His Holiness was merely establishing a bargaining position.”

“Oh, was he? Is your uncle higher than the pope?”

Brother and sister exchanged glances of amusement.

Louis said, “Not quite, although he came close to being elected pope by the conclave of 1458. He is bishop of several places, including Rouen and Ostia, and he is dean of the College of Cardinals. If my uncle asks for the documents I have mentioned, the Holy Father will sign them as a personal favor to him.”

A churchman’s “nephews” were often his illegitimate sons, but did this apply even to the dean of the College of Cardinals? Madlenka had certainly soared to new heights. Vertigo was a clear and present danger. She nodded while thoughts whirled in her head like snowflakes.

Cardice was not all mountain, and its lower slopes nurtured herds of wild horses, which local ranchers would round up and sell to traders traveling the Silver Road. Madlenka Bukovany had spent a significant part of her childhood watching horse trading.

“So you offer me my falcon’s life and liberty. You offer Cardinal Zdenek the same bribe he has already rejected, but presume that this time he agrees and gives you the hand of the princess. You must raise your bid, m’sieur.”

Louis smiled with all those wonderful teeth again and glanced at Sybilla, who was starting to fidget.

“I told you,” she said, speaking as fast as a drumroll, “the Scarlet Spider has five hirelings. That is a remarkable collection when even the king of France has only six. Zdenek has two of them guarding him, one watching over the crown prince, and two keeping old Konrad alive. Those two are exhausted, working day and night. He is sorely in need of more, especially to tend the king, for if one of the attendants nods off, the patient will die. If he spares one of his own bodyguards, he may be kidnapped or tweaked. He saw Wulfgang as a gift from the gods even before he did anything. Now that he has slaughtered the Wends single-handed, he is beyond price.”

“So how long would my falcon be required to serve him?”

Louis had the grace to look shamefaced. If he wasn’t genuine, his duplicity was impressive. “That is up to you to negotiate, ma’am. You are his cadger. Zdenek is a very old man and may not last long. He cannot ask for more than a lifetime contract, or until he is dismissed as first minister.”

“Which will be no more than fifteen minutes after the old king dies,” Sybilla said tartly. “Young Konrad detests him.”

Louis spread a hand, palm up. “In return, I am offering to save your falcon from the Inquisition, to snatch him out of the torture chamber and the pyre. His only alternative now would be to swear fideli swear fty to the pope, a transfer of allegiance that would require your compliance. The pope may not even want him, as he has many falcons already and sees Wulfgang as a priest killer. Surely two or three years’ service to a high state officer is a better price to pay than being burned? And you might die with him.”

So Madlenka was now expected to go and bargain with the Scarlet Spider? If that prospect was more attractive than being burned at the stake, the difference was slight. As Zdenek had a reputation for working far into the night, she had no excuse to put off the ordeal until morning.

Sybilla stood up. “The music has stopped. The Promenade will be lining up. You go, Louis. And you, ma’am? You want me to send you back to Cardice?”

Madlenka rose also. “Yes, please. No, wait… If I have to negotiate with the cardinal…” How could she travel to Mauvnik and back? Justina? No, she would sell out to Lady Umbral. “I need my falcon.”

“You can’t have him. At the moment I doubt if you could wake him with a clap of thunder in both ears.”

“Then you will have to move me to the cardinal’s presence.”

“I will do no such thing!” Sybilla said. “His current hireling watchdog would flatten us. Besides, I have never been in his office or met him, so I can’t go there.” She grinned. “But one rainy afternoon, Justina took me around a dozen of the best palaces of Christendom, so if I can just remember which is which, I-”

“Don’t be cruel, Sybilla!” Louis said from the door. “Do as she asks.”

Sybilla pouted. “I’ve seen the door to Zdenek’s antechamber. I’ll put you there and you can ask for an audience.”

“And, please… In case he does not send me home again, will you look in on me later and see how I am doing?”