“The Father will know.”
“Yes, of course. I’m sure you’re aware that heresy, particularly in our current situation, is a very serious charge. Can you tell me what makes you think he’s a heretic?”
“I saw him create light without fire. He also made his shackles fall to pieces. Only a heretic could do that, right?”
“Shackles?” Verone asked. “What was he doing in shackles?”
“We were captured. The mission failed. I know we weren’t supposed to have any further contact, but I had to warn Father Cartier. If the man who led the mission was a heretic, there might be others close to him as well. His life could be in danger.”
“You did the right thing. Where was the last place you saw this heretic? We’ll need to hunt him down as quickly as possible.”
“In the big old estate up by the cliffs overlooking the river.”
“You don’t mean the Serrola Estate?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You were captured and held there?”
He nodded.
“How did you escape?”
“She seemed interested only in Vane. She said he was duping us. At first, I thought she was lying—that she had staged it all to make it look like Vane was the heretic instead of her, but now I’m not so sure. If she was guilty, would she have released us all like that?”
“By ‘she’ do you mean Marguerite Serrola?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Your mission was to capture Marguerite Serrola for the Inquisition?”
“So, Father Cartier did tell you?”
“We have been friends for a long time. So, the mission went wrong, and you were all captured. What happened to Vane?”
“I’m not sure. The Serrola woman seemed to think he would escape shortly.”
“And the others?”
“We agreed that Vane’s heresies were so important that Father Cartier needed to know right away. Since we didn’t know if he was still at the college or back in town, we split up. The others went to St. Sophia’s to see if he was there.”
“You did the right thing.”
“What am I to do now?”
“You’re here from the Holy City?”
He nodded.
Verone considered for a moment. “Father Cartier is sending most of the Inquisitors back there today. I suggest you go with them. So long as no one else knows of your mission, you should be able to resume your previous duties as though nothing happened. I’ll be sure Father Cartier gets your message, and I’ll put in a good word for your bravery. Perhaps there will even be a reward in it for you.”
For the first time since she’d seen him, he seemed genuinely relieved. “Bless you.”
Verone flashed a cryptic smile. “Believe me—the pleasure was all mine.”
. . . . .
Steaming puddles dotted the racetrack, remnants of the previous evening’s storm, but plans to cancel the races due to the treacherous conditions were instantly scuttled upon Ordinal Lavicius’s arrival. Instead, trumpets sounded, and the horses surged forward, their colors streaming blurs behind them. Up in his box, Ordinal Lavicius leaned forward, intent on the progress of his thoroughbred. His guest, a sallow, sharp-featured man, followed suit, his eyes shifting from horse to man and back again.
“I’ll make a convert of you yet, Prentiss,” the Ordinal said. “There’s nothing quite like the thrill of the race.”
“Oh, it’s not the race I object to—it’s my odds of turning a profit. Although you may view it as somewhat less than thrilling, I’m quite content to limit my risk to bets that qualify as a sure thing.”
“Then it’s not a bet,” Lavicius countered. “It’s a contract.”
“A difference merely of degree.”
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as a yellow-swathed equine in the center of the pack lost his footing in the mud and tumbled to the ground, throwing his rider. Two others, who were too close to avoid a collision, went down as well. One of the riders did not get up. Although all three horses regained their feet, the one in yellow was favoring a foreleg.
“Ooh, tough break,” Prentiss said.
“On the contrary—I’m almost certain to place now.”
“How callous of me to have missed that.”
Lavicius didn’t take his eyes from the race. “You can’t expect to appreciate all the subtleties overnight.”
An Inquisitor stepped up from the rear of the box and whispered into the Ordinal’s ear. Initially, Lavicius seemed inclined to wave the man away, but his hand froze mid-wave. With his horse only seconds away from the finish line, Lavicius turned to the messenger, focusing with even more intensity than he had on the race.
“He’s fled the city?”
The Inquisitor nodded.
“And did he say where he was going?”
“He said only ‘into hiding.’”
A cheer went up from the crowd, signaling the race was over.
Prentice applauded politely. “You took second place.”
“Not now, Prentiss. This is important.”
Lavicius turned back to the Inquisitor. “Did he leave anyone in charge?”
“No one seems to know.”
“And where is Ordinal Laitrech?”
“Still confined to the interrogation chamber.”
Lavicius eyed the man askance. “The Primal didn’t see to his release before he left? Are you sure?”
The Inquisitor nodded. “In fact, he had Mr. Theratigan confined there as well.”
“Curiouser and curiouser. I’m not sure what he has up his sleeve, but I can’t pass up an opportunity like this. I’m calling an emergency Convocation for this evening.”
“Ordinal Isrulian and Ordinal Shelby are out of town,” the Inquisitor pointed out.
Lavicius shrugged. “We still have enough for a binding vote. Prentiss, if I call it for nine o’clock, would that give your Accipitrines time to ascertain the Primal’s whereabouts?”
“I could certainly put some skilled people to the task.”
The Ordinal rubbed his hands together in anticipation “Excellent. The Primal is missing, Armand is out of town, and Laitrech is in custody. Prentiss, I think I see your point.”
“What point is that?”
“The thrill of a sure thing can be very seductive indeed.”
. . . . .
At his makeshift desk in Canasty Hall, Cartier sorted through the stack of papers that had accumulated over the last few days, throwing some into the trash and placing others in a briefcase.
Verone appeared in the doorway. “So, I take it the Inquisition is almost completely out of Exidgeon, then?”
Cartier started. “Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to post guards.”
“Don’t be too hard on them—I can be very persuasive when I set my mind to it.”
“I have no doubt. We finally got the last of the Inquisitors through the line a couple of hours ago. I’m just cleaning up a few last odds and ends, and then I’ll be leaving as well.”
“I presume the heretic responsible for this mess is in custody then?”
Something like fear flashed in his eyes. “I have that situation well in hand.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know. How long before they let Isrulian out?”
Cartier sighed. “I don’t know. Soon, probably.”
“And when they do, how do you think he’ll react to this little evacuation of yours if you haven’t brought anyone to justice?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. The plan was perfect.”
“Care to tell me about it?”
He shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything now.”
“Hurt anything? Why ever would you think that telling me something could hurt you?”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Many rank blood before justice.”
“What are you talking about? Have I ever been anything other than supportive?”
“Of course not.”
�
��Then why the reticence?”
“I suppose after all you’ve done, you are entitled to know. Perhaps you should have a seat.”
Verone settled in and folded her hands in her lap. “Very well. Now what’s this all about?”
“There’s no delicate way to put this. Our prime suspect is none other than your Aunt Marguerite.”
Verone’s jaw dropped. “Aunt Marguerite?” And then she laughed. “You almost had me there for a second. Who is it really?”
“This is no joke.”
“Oh, be serious. She’s just an odd old lady.”
“I am deadly serious. You yourself saw her standing outside the window before Dexter Hall went up in flames.”
“There were countless people milling about outside that window. Why are you focusing on her so particularly?”
“Because of this.” He reached into the briefcase and drew out a floral wrap still faintly redolent of roses. “Look familiar? We found it at the scene of the Hathaway fire.”
“It’s a floral wrap. It could belong to anyone.”
“It could, unless you take the label into accouFnt.”
“Label? Let me see that.” Verone practically snatched the garment from his hands and studied the label.
“You see? All the evidence leads directly to your Aunt’s doorstep.”
“This means nothing. She could just as easily have gotten lost and dropped the wrap by accident.”
“Your loyalty to her is commendable, but I’m afraid the evidence is easily sufficient to bring her in for questioning.”
“Little old ladies just don’t do this sort of thing. Are you sure you aren’t trying to find a scapegoat to mollify Isrulian?”
Cartier shook his head. “I know this is difficult, but consider what we know about your Aunt. Remember how you told me she became estranged from your father?”
“Yes, of course, but that can happen in any family. It’s no crime.”
“Isn’t it possible that somewhere along the line your father found out his sister was dabbling in heresy? How do you think he would react to that?”
“I don’t suppose he would take it with grace.”
“You must admit—the possibility bears investigating.”
“And have you asked her to come in to clear up this mess?”
“That, I’m afraid, is a most delicate matter under the circumstances.”
“So, you haven’t then?”
“I was concerned if she were guilty she would simply decline. And with the Crown backing her, I’m not sure we’d ever get to the truth. Since our current position with the Crown is tenuous at best, I didn’t want to risk agitating him further.”
“So, you’ve done nothing?”
“Not exactly.” He looked away. “I sent a small team of Inquisitors to arrest her for questioning.”
“You ordered the abduction of the Crown Princess’s mother?”
“Apprehending those suspected of heresy is well within the Church’s jurisdiction. Besides, there seemed to be no better way to get at the truth.”
“Where did they take her?”
“If all had worked as planned, she would be well on her way to the Holy City by now.”
“But…?”
“But all didn’t go as planned. The man who attacked me this morning was one of those I sent.”
“But he was no Inquisitor.”
“He just wasn’t dressed as one. If they failed, I couldn’t risk them being connected with the Church.”
“But then they wouldn’t have any authority. For all my Aunt would know, they could have been common brigands.”
“Once she was in custody, they would have identified themselves.”
“So now what?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what went wrong. The plan should have worked.”
“So Isrulian is going to show up any minute to discover you called off the Inquisition without actually making any progress?”
Cartier held up the wrap. “I still have strong evidence implicating your Aunt as the heretic.”
“And no way of proving it, particularly if your clumsy attempt at abduction has tipped your hand.” She shook her head sadly. “I do wish you’d talked to me beforehand. As things stand, I’m not sure I see any way out of this mess, unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Oh, I couldn’t. I know my father and Aunt Marguerite haven’t gotten along for some time, but I shudder to think what he’d say if he knew I was involved in some bizarre plot to arrest her and accuse her of heresy. Still, it certainly would be nice to clear this up as soon as possible.”
“It would. Particularly since I can’t guarantee what might happen if Isrulian removes me from the Inquisition. He’ll be rabid to name a culprit, and once he has evidence to implicate a suspect, he may decide the actual truth of the matter is beside the point.”
“Are you saying he’d convict Aunt Marguerite without a full investigation?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“But if that’s true, he might go after the rest of her family as well—even those who have had nothing to do with her for over twenty years.”
“I can’t rule that out either.”
“Even if I help you, you can’t rule it out, right?”
“Actually, there might be something I could do. When Thurman left so suddenly, he put me in charge of this Inquisition, and Isrulian signed the paperwork to make it official shortly afterward.”
“How does that help me? Isrulian could replace you at any time.”
“In my official capacity, I can make agreements that bind the Church in return for cooperation in an investigation.”
“So, if I help with the investigation, you can offer immunity for me and my family in return?”
“Immunity for past offenses only, but I would think that should suffice. It’s called an Inquisitorial indulgence.”
“Can you also make other kinds of agreements?”
“Such as?”
“Well, I don’t for one minute think there’s any substance to these charges, but Aunt Marguerite is a wealthy woman. Isrulian could be tempted to pursue these charges against her solely to acquire her estate.”
“I don’t think that’s likely.”
“You’re the one who said he was rabid. Can you really predict what he’ll do?”
“I suppose not. But what can I do about that?”
“Take the temptation away. If, in return for my help, you agree that the Church will disclaim any interest in Aunt Marguerite’s estate, even if she is found to be a heretic, it would keep Isrulian honest. Then, the only reason he’d have for pursuing her would be if she really were a heretic.”
“What sort of help are you offering?”
“I want to see this resolved as much as you do. If you agree to the indulgences for me and my family and have the Church disclaim her estate, I’d be willing to deliver Aunt Marguerite to you for questioning. The sooner we establish this heresy accusation is a bunch of nonsense, the sooner we can focus on finding the real heretics.”
“And if it should turn out she really is a heretic?”
Verone shrugged. “Then I guess she’ll just have to learn that bad decisions have consequences.”
Chapter Nineteen
Trumped
The six men shifted nervously as they waited for Ordinal Lavicius to call the meeting to order. The great round table in the Chapel Ordinalis had not been graced with so many Ordinals at one time since Darron Goodkin had been elevated to the Primacy. By now they were all aware their Primal, by all accounts a very sick man, had suddenly and unexpectedly gone missing. Following as it did on the heels of the unprecedented demon attack, many feared the worst.
Lavicius stood. “Thank you all for coming, gentlemen. Shall we get started?”
Ordinal Bittern cleared his throat. “Aren’t we going to wait for Ordinal Laitrech?”
“I expect him momentarily,” Lavicius said.
Ordinal Cronsett,
whose rheumy eyes and deeply lined features marked him as the eldest of those assembled, raised an eyebrow. “Are we to assume Theratigan cleared him, then?”
Lavicius shrugged. “I imagine that depends on what you suspect him of. If you are asking whether Theratigan has determined that the individual claiming to be Ordinal Laitrech is not in fact the demon we’ve been hearing so much about, I expect the answer is no. It seems His Primacy decided to imprison Theratigan before the determination was made.”
“You countermanded the Primal’s order?” Ordinal Stohl asked. “Aren’t you taking quite a risk? What if he turns out to be the demon after all?”
“Not at all, my friend. The Primal merely asked that Ordinal Laitrech be held until it could be determined that the demon had not taken his place. Of course, that order became a bit awkward when Theratigan was himself taken into custody. But the problem was solved easily enough. When Ordinal Laitrech’s predicament came to my attention, I simply sent for someone else capable of making that determination. It’s the least I could do for my fellow Ordinal under the circumstances, don’t you agree?”
As several of the men nodded, Ordinal Bittern rose from the table.
“If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll go see what’s keeping Laitrech.”
“Oh, of course. How careless of me,” Lavicius said. “Without his Relic, he’ll need help getting past the Bastion, won’t he? He’s probably already waiting outside.”
“What do you mean without his Relic?” Ordinal Kuypers asked. “You don’t mean to say he’s gone and lost it, do you?”
“He says it was stolen.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then everyone spoke at once. Lavicius let them go on for several minutes before calling them to order.
“Please, gentlemen. One at a time.”
Ordinal Marius’ basso profundo was most clearly audible over the others. “Are you saying Laitrech permitted his Relic to fall into the clutches of a demon?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Bittern said. “He was attacked.”
“In all fairness,” Lavicius said, “if what he says is true, the attack took place in this very room. Given the protection of the Bastion, could you really blame him if he let his guard down a little?”
Stohl ogled Lavicius in disbelief. “The demon struck here? How did it get in?”
A House of Cards Page 26
