The wizard at Mecq tst-1

by Rick Shelley

  Then Egbert looked at the pillar of smoke. "That is yours, I believe," he said to Silvas.

  "It contains my home," Silvas said. "I would be honored to offer the hospitality of the Glade to you and your colleagues for the length of our common stay in Mecq."

  Bishop Egbert didn't hesitate at all. He sensed that Silvas's home would be better equipped than anything that Mecq or its thane could offer. "We would be delighted. In turn, let me invite you to attend the Mass I will offer in St. Katrinka's."

  To the side, Brother Paul permitted himself a small smile. He was curious about the wizard's reaction to that offer. Stepping inside a church for a few minutes' talk was one thing. But would he be willing to stay through a Mass?

  "I would be honored," Silvas said, disappointing the vicar.

  "I think tomorrow at sunrise," Egbert said, turning to the vicar.

  "As you say, Your Excellency," Brother Paul said. A dawn Mass would not disrupt the daily work of the villagers, and there would be time for the news to get up the hill to Sir Eustace and the people working in the castle. Without much doubt everyone would attend, except for whatever sentries Sir Eustace thought necessary to keep on duty at the castle. He would certainly refuse to abandon his home completely even for the half hour or so of the Mass.

  Bishop Egbert turned slowly through a complete circle, looking at the people of Mecq. Then he looked at his monks. All of them had shed their traveling cloaks and stood together in their white cassocks. Good men and devout, Egbert thought. Initiation into the Greater Mysteries could be a sore trial for a pious churchman. Many could not suddenly accept a second level of truth above what they had been taught to believe before. Finally Egbert turned back to the vicar and the wizard. But his eyes were drawn toward the castle on Mount Mecq-or rather to the road leading down from it.

  "Someone is coming from the castle," he said softly. Both Silvas and Brother Paul turned to look.

  "That is Sir Eustace, with his steward trailing behind," Silvas said. It seems he finally deigns to come down, he thought. Eustace must have received news of the bishop's sighting within seconds after Silvas identified the approaching riders.

  "I was about to offer my blessing," Egbert said, "but I think I should wait for Sir Eustace."

  Many of the villagers turned to watch the riders. Bishop Egbert waited patiently. There was no conversation around him. Everything seemed suspended while they waited. Sir Eustace slowed his horse only when he had to, and the villagers made room for him to pass through the crowd. The knight didn't dismount until he was within ten feet of the bishop.

  Even before he greeted the bishop, Sir Eustace turned his head to glare at Silvas. The look of anger was suppressed, if not entirely, before Eustace went down on one knee before the bishop. Egbert let him stay down a few seconds longer than necessary.

  "Bishop Egbert has accepted my offer of hospitality for his people," Silvas told Sir Eustace as soon as he could. "There will be a welcoming dinner this evening. I would be happy if you, your family, and Master Fitz-Matthew would attend."

  Sir Eustace hesitated before he answered. Silvas could almost follow his thoughts from the sequence of looks that passed across the knight's face. Sir Eustace was delighted to be spared the expense and bother of housing the clerics, but angry at being usurped in that function. He didn't care to enter Silvas's tower of smoke, but he also didn't want to slight the bishop or miss the opportunity to be with him.

  "Unfortunately, my wife is a trifle ill this afternoon. My daughter is required to care for her, and to look after her young brother. I will be pleased to accept your invitation for myself and my steward."

  "And you, Brother Paul?" Silvas asked, turning easily to him. "It would hardly be fitting to exclude the vicar of Mecq."

  "Thank you, I would be delighted," Brother Paul said.

  Silvas glanced at Bay and nodded very casually. The horse backed away from the group and ambled toward the smoke. Few people paid any attention to his departure.

  Finally Bishop Egbert raised his hand for the blessing.

  "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit…"

  All of the villagers dropped to one knee or both. Many bowed their heads. Some looked at the bishop, watching him draw the sign of the cross in the air before them. All crossed themselves after one fashion or another. Even Sir Eustace went down on one knee again and went through the motions. Silvas remained standing, a little to the side, neither bound by the discipline of the flock-nor concerned about standing so clearly apart. His eyes focused on the bishop. Silvas could feel the power in Egbert's ritual words and gestures. Silvas had never discounted the magic of the White Brotherhood or the Church hierarchy, and this sample gave him a closer gauge on just how much power the bishop possessed.

  It was not insignificant.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "Quite substantial for a thing of smoke," Bishop Egbert said as Silvas showed him to a large room in the keep of the Seven Towers. The monks of Egbert's cathedral chapter had been shown to a large room on the ground floor, supplanting part of the staff for the duration of their stay. The Glade was rather more accommodating than most castles. The soldiers, servants, and guests weren't forced to make do with whatever space they could find in the great hall or other areas.

  "It's not often that I get to share hospitality with outsiders," Silvas said, forgoing the more obvious replies. "It is quite old, especially for England. When Auroreus built this place, Rome was still the seat of empire as well as of the Church."

  "I have heard rumors, but remarkably I have found nothing in any of the annals that come to my attention," the bishop said. "It seems that not even the wordiest of brothers has seen fit to mention the rumors for posterity."

  "Not a situation of my doing, I assure you," Silvas said. "While I do not seek to spread the fame of the Seven Towers, neither do I conspire to hide its existence." He gestured around the bedroom. "If you have need of anything, a ring of the bell will bring a servant. And through there"-he pointed to a doorway at the rear of the room-"you will find the rest of the accommodations. Someone will be along with a tray, wine and a few odds and ends, to help you refresh yourself after the journey. Dinner will be a half hour or so, I believe."

  "Thank you. I have no doubt that I shall find all that I need."

  "Will you be able to find your way to the great hall without difficulty?"

  "But of course," Egbert said, smiling.

  "There is a lot we need to discuss, Your Excellency, but, if possible, perhaps we may postpone that until after dinner."

  "God willing," Bishop Egbert said.

  "And able," Silvas added. Bishop Egbert nodded. Alone, he found no call to dispute the wizard's qualification. Silvas bowed and left the bishop to return to his own suite of rooms. Carillia was dressing.

  "I hope everything is prepared properly," she said. "It is a good thing that Bay was able to warn us that we would have company."

  "He left as soon as Bishop Egbert accepted my invitation. I wasn't sure of his acceptance, or I would have mentioned the possibility before I left."

  "You were in little shape for that kind of planning when you left, my heart. You feel better now?"

  "As you can see," he replied. "The passage of a few hours today has done more good than the eighteen hours of sleep that preceded them."

  "How many will there be for dinner?"

  "The bishop and his dozen monks. Brother Paul from the village. And two from the castle, Sir Eustace and Fitz-Matthew."

  Carillia nodded. "Bay had the count right, then. I wasn't sure but that it might have changed after he left you."

  "Bay be wrong on a simple fact?" Silvas laughed. "That would be a first. Are you sure you don't mind playing hostess this evening, my love?"

  "Would that I had the chance more often, my heart," she replied. "It is so rare that we do any entertaining."

  "It's rare that anyone is willing to chance the horrors of a sorcerer's lair." Silvas laughed again.
"I have decided to hide nothing from any of our churchmen. I wouldn't insult the bishop so, or rob him of any information he needs to be effective in the coming fight. None of the secrets of the Seven Towers need be concealed from them."

  "I note that you do not include Sir Eustace or his steward in that," Carillia said.

  "Prudence seems to indicate otherwise," Silvas said. "Eustace already holds enough anger for three men. I wouldn't give him any additional load to bear. He might not be able to withstand it." In his own mind Silvas was less charitable to the knight, but he saw no need to share his darker impressions with Carillia. "Once Sir Eustace and Master Henry depart, we can do some serious planning with the men of the Church."

  "You think we will have time for civility and careful planning?" Carillia asked.

  "That isn't for us to say." His voice showed a trace of sadness. "So far the Blue Rose has chosen to attack in the middle of the night, when evil is at its strongest. If the pattern holds, we should have time for talk at least. I can give the bishop all of the information I have."

  "Will you be strong enough for a Council tonight?" Carillia asked.

  "I have to be," Silvas said flatly. "And that may be the signal the Blue Rose awaits. They may attack during our Council again."

  "Then we must be armed as best we can before," Carillia said.

  – |The great hall was bright with lights. Dozens of candles burned smokelessly on high stands. There were torches in sconces and blazing fires in both hearths. Despite the season the room was not overheated, though. Evenings in the mountain valley of the Seven Towers were rarely extreme. And a gentle flow of air found its way through the great hall, clearing away the smoke produced by torches and fireplaces without guttering the candles.

  The tables had been rearranged… and some had been removed. There was no trace of the special arrangements made for Bosc's porcine kind or Braf's lupine warriors. And only human servants and guards were in evidence. The tables had been set with silver. Loaves of bread, bunches of green onions, radishes, and bowls of fruit had been arranged for the diners. There was plenty of wine and ale. Even on short notice Silvas's staff had prepared a dinner that he would be proud of.

  By the time Silvas and Carillia entered the great hall, most of their guests were already present. Sir Eustace and Henry Fitz-Matthew had been in the great hall since coming to the castle. They were off by one of the kegs of ale. To Silvas's eye, they had been partaking rather freely of the brew. Sir Eustace looked around the great hall, a deep scowl plain on his face before he spotted Silvas and Carillia. Fitz-Matthew looked fearful, as if he wished he were almost anywhere else on Earth.

  Brother Paul and one of the cathedral monks were missing. They've gone to get the bishop, Silvas guessed easily. The rest of the monks had apparently come into the great hall within the past few minutes. None had taken a seat yet. A few had wine. Others seemed to be debating whether or not they should indulge before the bishop arrived.

  "There is such a feeling of power about these churchmen," Carillia whispered.

  "I would guess that they have all been selected by Bishop Egbert for their abilities," Silvas whispered back. He patted the hand that Carillia had on his arm. "The bishop himself appears quite formidable."

  "I would expect that," Carillia replied. Silvas nodded and they walked across the room, not quite toward their places at the head table, but not directly toward either group of guests.

  Sir Eustace made a half turn, not completely turning his back on his host but coming close. Fitz-Matthew kept his eyes on his master, giving Silvas only one quick, nervous glance. The churchmen were quite attentive, though. Silvas saw open curiosity in some of them, a more genteel veil of politeness in others.

  "The bishop will be with us quite soon," one of the older monks said, taking a couple of steps toward Silvas and Carillia before he spoke.

  "I hope you find the wine satisfactory," Carillia said, gesturing at the goblet the monk was holding.

  "This is my lady, Carillia," Silvas said.

  "Honored, my lady," the monk said. "I am Brother Andrew. And, yes, the wine is excellent." As if to prove the point, he raised his goblet in toast and took a long drink. "Quite excellent."

  Bishop Egbert came in then, with Brother Paul and the twelfth monk from St. Ives. Silvas went to greet the bishop and to introduce him to Carillia. Then he led the way to the table. Sir Eustace and Fitz-Matthew came away from the ale keg as soon as the bishop entered.

  For this occasion the tables remaining in the great hall had been brought together and arranged in a common T formation, although the "lower" table wasn't physically lower. Breaking from usual custom, Carillia sat at Silvas's left, giving the place of honor at the right to the bishop. Sir Eustace was at Carillia's other side. Brother Paul and Henry Fitz-Matthew had the first places at the long "lower" table, and the monks from St. Ives filled the rest of the places.

  As soon as everyone started to sit, servants came in with the first courses of hot food.

  "If you would offer the blessing, Your Excellency?" Silvas asked the bishop as the servants left to get more trays. Silvas wondered if the request would surprise the prelate-as it obviously did Brother Paul and a few of the monks from St. Ives.

  "With great pleasure," Egbert said. His grin was warm, knowing. And his blessing was blessedly short. He made the sign of the cross, which was echoed by everyone at the table, save for Silvas and Carillia. Most of the guests took note of that, and Silvas saw a clear cross section of attitudes. Only the bishop and the vicar seemed to show no reaction at all.

  The only guests who showed any discomfort at dining in the magical castle of a wizard who disdained the forms of the Church were the two men from the castle of Mecq. The knight wore his customary anger, little modified in front of the bishop. Fitz-Matthew's face was a study in barely suppressed fear. He had reacted to Silvas with fear since first coming inside the Seven Towers.

  The meal itself might have taken place at almost any major castle-except that the food tasted better, the table service was that of a king or emperor, and the room was much cleaner, free of the common smells of animals and moldy straw. If Sir Eustace or his steward took any comparisons to their own home, they were not apparent. But even those two men did not slight the food. Though they started slowly, they were soon eating as heartily as any of the monks, whose appetites seemed to belie their gaunt looks.

  Bishop Egbert guided the conversation. He and his monks were all talkative enough, given to passing along the gossip that had come their way. News of the outside world was rare in Mecq. Even Sir Eustace managed to occasionally repress his anger long enough to ask a civil question. No mention was made of the Blue Rose or of Mecq's problems-not during the meal.

  "A splendid repast," the bishop said when everyone appeared to be sated. His grin had grown wider through the meal. "My brothers and I all offer our deepest thanks." He allowed the grin to dissolve. "May God grant that it see us through the trials that lie ahead of us."

  "I don't know which I wish more," Silvas said. "I dread the arrival of this great battle, but at the same time I wish to have it behind me, however it may end."

  "An understandable dilemma," the bishop assured him. "You are quite certain that the Blue Rose is behind the troubles here?"

  "Positive. Their signature on some of the illnesses I treated was unmistakable. And we have had later confirmation of that." He hesitated, glanced quickly at Sir Eustace and then back to the bishop.

  Bishop Egbert nodded. "There is time enough for that later. About immediate measures?"

  "There have been two direct assaults," Silvas said. Sir Eustace raised an eyebrow at that. Brother Paul focused his attention more closely on the wizard. "The first was strictly on the Seven Towers. It was the second that included Mecq. And as the second was stronger, more determined, than the first, so I believe that the third will be stronger and more determined than the second. The next battle, when it comes, may well decide the issue." He paused before he added,
"For Mecq, perhaps for everyone."

  "Have you any idea what form this attack may take?" Sir Eustace asked.

  Silvas shrugged. "It's impossible to be certain yet. There may be a more mundane element, a human army, in addition to the weapons that were evidenced before."

  "I have too few men to deal with an army," Eustace said quickly. "If I arm everyone in my castle who can handle a weapon, I could hardly turn back the merest outriders of an army."

  "You have the advantage of height, and there will be no time for a siege," Silvas said. "The issue will be decided in a day or a night."

  "And you do not stand alone," Bishop Egbert said.

  "I will defend my land and people to the last," the knight said after a long silence. He stared directly at Silvas.

  "There was never any doubt of that," Silvas replied quietly. It was not the time to willfully antagonize the thane further.

  Eustace nodded curtly, then pushed back from the table. "It's time I return to my family," he said. "Night is fast upon us and I have work yet to do." Fitz-Matthew quickly got to his feet as well. Silvas and the others rose more slowly.

  "Remember, Sir Eustace," Egbert said, "if our Unseen Lord sees us safely through this night, I will celebrate Mass at dawn in the church here."

  Eustace nodded, then bowed more formally to the prelate and left, with his steward at his heels. After they were gone, Bishop Egbert sighed as he sat again.

  "Sir Eustace is a difficult man," Silvas said. This time Brother Paul didn't feel compelled to offer any defense. Nor did the bishop say anything on the subject.

  "If your brothers would care to continue here, the rest of us might retire to a cozier room to continue our talk," Silvas said. "Some things are best said between close walls."

  Silvas, Carillia, Bishop Egbert, and Brother Paul left together. Silvas lead the way to a more intimate room just off the great hall. Koshka came in with a tray of goblets and two bottles of the spicy Alpine wine that Silvas had grown so fond of.