Sword of Power (The Black Musketeers Book 2)

by Oliver Pötzsch

  The boys took their places again, and Lukas watched them get a tiny bit better with every blow.

  One more year! he thought. Then we’ll have a properly trained regiment here. But he knew that they wouldn’t have a whole year. Maybe not even a whole month.

  Lukas glanced up toward the castle battlements and saw Elsa sitting on the platform of the keep tower, engrossed in a book. Though her legs dangled a good fifteen paces above the ground, she was clearly unafraid—but then, suddenly, something seemed to unnerve her. She straightened up and stared eastward, toward the Heidelberg road leading up to the castle.

  “What is it?” Lukas called to her. “Did you see something?”

  Elsa nodded. She disappeared down the trapdoor, and a few moments later she joined the others down in the courtyard. “A lone rider!” she panted, out of breath from running. “He’s still pretty far away, but it looked like he was wearing clerical robes.” She hesitated. “Maybe even those of a cardinal. I couldn’t see whether any other riders were following him.”

  “Schönborn!” Lukas gasped. “I knew it! He probably has a whole battalion of papal soldiers with him.” He turned to his friends. “Tell the castle guards and the farm boys to be at the ready! If it is the inquisitor, he won’t find us defenseless.”

  “You bet your ass he won’t. The bastard won’t escape me this time!” Paulus reached for his broad, freshly sharpened saber, which was sitting on the edge of the well. The four friends exchanged grim looks. Lukas, Giovanni, and Jerome all girded their rapiers.

  “To hell!” Lukas called.

  “And beyond!” the others shouted back in chorus, completing the Black Musketeers’ old battle cry.

  Together, they stormed toward the portcullis.

  The rider approached slowly, still alone. From the parapet above the gate they could see that he sat atop an elegant black horse. His attire was similar to clerical robes, but rather than a red cardinal’s cassock, the man wore a strange blue cloak that almost seemed to glow, as though swallowing up the sunlight and then casting it out again.

  Lukas blinked. “I think we can relax,” he said hesitantly. “It isn’t Schönborn. If I could just see his face in the sun, I . . .” He stopped short, realizing who was riding toward them.

  “Senno!” Elsa cried in surprise. “It’s Senno!” She let out a relieved laugh—but then her expression darkened again. “He’s probably here for the Grimorium, but he can forget about that. It’s mine!”

  Senno was General Wallenstein’s court astrologer, a shady reader of the stars. He had helped the friends find the Grimorium during their last adventure. Paulus, Giovanni, and Jerome didn’t trust him, but Lukas treasured his knowledge and his wisdom. Senno was Schönborn’s greatest adversary; he had seen through the inquisitor before anyone else had. Of course, Lukas could not be sure that Senno wasn’t after the Grimorium, just as Schönborn was.

  Lukas stared down at Senno, who had now stopped in front of the castle gate. The astrologer had hardly changed since Lukas had last seen him, six months before. He wore a simple priest’s cap, and his twirled goatee was as neatly groomed as ever. Peering closer, Lukas could make out several strange symbols on the blue cloak. A few of the castle guards and farm boys began murmuring to one another and crossing themselves.

  “Greetings, my young friends!” Senno called up to them. He gestured to the castle. “I see you’ve done quite a bit of work,” he added. “The last time I was here, not a stone was left standing.”

  “What do you want, astro-babbler?” Paulus snapped at him. “If you want to tell the future, you’re better off performing at the Heidelberg fair.”

  “How about you all start by letting your old friend in?” Senno asked in his usual bright, clear voice. “Before your superstitious guards shoot me full of arrows?”

  Lukas opened the gate himself. Senno dismounted and led his horse into the courtyard, where he handed the reins to a servant and came toward Lukas and Elsa with open arms. “The Lohenfels siblings,” he cried. “How wonderful to see you two happily reunited!”

  Lukas bowed, but Elsa held back, seeming to withdraw into herself. Apparently she was still afraid Senno was going to try to steal her Grimorium.

  “It is a great honor for us to welcome General Wallenstein’s court astrologer here to our castle,” Lukas said in a formal tone. “Do make yourself at home.”

  Senno raised an eyebrow. “Oho, he already talks like a real count! Your parents would be proud of you, Lukas.” He glanced around at the farmer boys, who were still eyeing him suspiciously. “I’m sure you’ll make a fine lord to your subjects one day.”

  “Ever the old sweet-talker,” Giovanni whispered to Lukas. “My opinion is the same as ever. I only trust him as far as I can spit.”

  “Well, let’s just see what he wants first,” Lukas replied quietly.

  They all sat down together around the fireplace in the great hall. The narrow windows let in only a little sun, so Senno’s face was masked in shadows. The eerie blue cloak looked almost black in the dim light. The astrologer left the bread and cheese on the table untouched, but he did ask for a large carafe of wine.

  “Mm, that’s a fine red wine you have here,” Senno said after taking a deep swallow from his goblet. He wiped his mouth and nodded with pleasure. “From your own Palatinate vineyards, I assume—for which your esteemed castellan set off just this morning.” He sighed. “Pity that I won’t have a chance to meet him.”

  “Something tells me that you chose this exact moment to visit us here,” Giovanni retorted. “Is that not so?”

  “Let’s say I . . . uh, wanted to speak with you all undisturbed.” Senno looked around. “And are we? Undisturbed here, I mean?”

  “We’ve sent the farm boys home, and the servants are over in the kitchen,” Lukas said. “So talk already! What brings you here?”

  “Let’s not be impatient, young count.” Senno took another deep drink of wine. His expression turned very serious, and Lukas sensed that they were done with polite small talk. “Do you all remember how I told you about Emperor Charlemagne’s sword the last time I visited you?”

  “You said it had disappeared,” Lukas recalled. “Dark forces stole it.”

  “Indeed, dark forces.” The astrologer nodded grimly. “And they succeeded even though the sword is part of the venerated Imperial Regalia.”

  “The imperial . . . what?” Jerome gave him a blank look. “Je ne comprends pas.”

  Giovanni rolled his eyes. “Don’t they teach you anything in France apart from wine, women, and song? The Imperial Regalia are the most sacred objects in the entire German Reich! They need them in order to crown a new German king. What were they again?” Giovanni began counting on his fingers. “The sword, the crown, the scepter, the holy lance, the cross, the orb . . . and a dozen others at least. As far as I know, they’re all safely stored away in Nürnberg.”

  “Well, I guess they’re not anymore, you know-it-all,” Paulus broke in as he poured himself a tankard of beer—a drink he quite enjoyed, unlike Lukas and the others. “If I understand the astro-driveler here correctly, the sword is gone.”

  Senno raised his eyebrows, looking annoyed. “That is correct. Only no one has noticed yet. There is a convincing counterfeit in Nürnberg, and it has been a while since the last coronation. Unfortunately, more Regalia have disappeared without a trace as well.”

  “Disappeared without a trace?” Elsa echoed, giving Senno a skeptical look. “Priceless objects like those don’t vanish into thin air. Weren’t they locked away safely?”

  “Well, the imperial sword was stolen from the Hospital of the Holy Spirit in Nürnberg a long time ago. No one knows how.” Senno furrowed his brow. “The imperial crown went missing while in Vienna. It was there for the Kaiser’s formal ceremony. Now the imperial scepter has been lost as well! The Kaiser himself gave it to his generals, hoping that it would aid them to victory—a foolish idea, if you ask me.” He shook his head. “A certain Leopold von Torg
au, of the Black Musketeers, was charged with looking after the scepter.”

  “Torgau!” Giovanni cried. “Commander Zoltan mentioned him quite a bit. Old comrade of his, I think.”

  Lukas, too, recalled Torgau’s name having come up in conversation with Zoltan. Lukas had always had a particularly close relationship with the commander of the Black Musketeers; Zoltan had known his father well.

  Senno nodded and took another sip of wine. “Leopold von Torgau was one of the Black Musketeers’ best fighters, but even he could not prevent the scepter from being stolen during the battle near Hamelin.”

  “We heard about that battle,” Paulus said. “Does anyone know who stole the scepter?”

  “Unfortunately, dear old Torgau can no longer tell us who the thief was. God rest his soul.” Senno cleared his throat. “But I have suspicions about who was behind it. You all know him.”

  Lukas jumped up from his stool, his heart hammering in his chest. “You mean . . .”

  “Indeed.” Senno nodded. “Everything points to Waldemar von Schönborn. His accursed frozen ones were spotted at the battle near Hamelin. Word has it that there was something unnatural about the other two thefts as well.”

  “But what would Schönborn want with the Imperial Regalia?” Elsa still looked skeptical. “I don’t expect he’s trying to make himself king of Germany?”

  Senno let out his high, crystalline laugh. “Not exactly, no. But having three of the most important parts of the Regalia means he can blackmail the Reich. Emperor Ferdinand is old and feeble now; the next coronation is likely not far off. With the Regalia in Schönborn’s grasp, he can make whatever demands he likes of the German princes.” Senno lowered his voice. “He’s already a cardinal in Rome. If he decides he wants to become confessor to the new emperor as well, the entire Reich will be at the mercy of his black magic. And in such terrible times, too!”

  “A truly tragic story,” Jerome replied, shrugging. “C’est horrible. But what does it have to do with us?”

  “With you four, nothing. But with her . . .” Senno pointed a thin finger at Elsa, who flinched. “If anyone can . . . dispossess Schönborn of the Regalia again, it’s this girl. Elsa is the only one capable of it!”

  No one said anything for a while.

  Finally, Lukas cleared his throat. “Give me one reason why Elsa should leave Lohenfels and put herself in such danger.” He regarded Senno, arms crossed. “Just one.”

  “Perhaps because this is about the fate of the entire German Reich, and Elsa Schönborn is the only one capable of mounting any real resistance?” Senno retorted. “Don’t forget, now that her mother is dead, she’s the last of the white witches.”

  Lukas bit his lip. Senno had been the one who first explained white and black magic to him. Both came from the druids who had lived in remote valleys and impenetrable forests long ago. The Romans had driven them there, and had killed many of them as well. The white-magic druids had devoted themselves to the healing arts and other helpful spells, whereas the black-magic druids pursued revenge and destruction. Sophia von Lohenfels had apparently been the last white witch, and her powers had passed to Elsa.

  “If we want to defeat Schönborn and retrieve the Regalia from him, we need Elsa,” Senno insisted, jolting Lukas out of his brooding. “No one else can do it.”

  “You mean you need the Grimorium,” Jerome remarked, scowling.

  Senno sighed. “Believe me, if I could use the book alone, I wouldn’t need to go begging you for it. I would just come to Lohenfels with a company of soldiers and take it from you. A few farm children could hardly stop me.”

  “You treacherous little . . .” Paulus jumped out of his chair, but Lukas held him back.

  “I’m not going to do that, of course.” Senno smiled. “As the past has unfortunately shown, the Grimorium Nocturnum has already chosen its young owner. Taking it away from Elsa would be suicide.” He leaned forward with interest. “Naturally, I’d love to see it again. Just for a moment.”

  “Forget it!” Elsa spat. “And you can forget about me coming with you, too.” She hesitated. “Where are these Regalia things supposed to be, anyway?”

  Senno ran a finger around the edge of his glass goblet until it began to hum quietly. “They’re in Prague,” he said at last. “The old imperial city in Bohemia. I managed to find out that much—Schönborn has hidden them there somewhere.”

  “Prague! Well, if that’s all it takes . . .” Giovanni said sarcastically, shaking his head. “Prague is hundreds of miles away. It would take you and Elsa weeks to get there—likely even months, with the war going on! What would we tell the castellan? That Elsa has gone off to Heidelberg to purchase herself a few nice dresses? Or that she flew off on a broomstick?”

  Senno winked at them. “The good master castellan would never find out, because we would be back before his return. I doubt we would need longer than a week.”

  “Goddamn nonsense!” Paulus banged his tankard down onto the table, causing the beer to foam up. “Heidelberg to Prague and back within a week? That would take . . .” He stopped short.

  “Magic, yes,” Senno said, nodding in agreement. “The Grimorium could bring us there. Remember, it transported you to another place once before. Why shouldn’t it work again?”

  “That’s madness!” Lukas broke in. “We were extremely lucky that one time. A second time would never—”

  “Yes, it would work,” Elsa said. She spoke softly, but her words were enough to silence the entire hall. “It would,” she repeated. “I’ve studied the spell. I think I could transport myself to Prague. Myself, Senno . . .” She raised her head. “And everyone else here.”

  “Elsa!” Jerome barked at her. “Nobody’s forcing you to go there. Not you, and not us!”

  “Oh, so the rest of you would rather stick-fight with the farm children some more while he takes control over the entire Reich? Is that what you’re saying?” Elsa’s voice was loud and angry. She turned to Lukas. “I’ve thought it over. You said yourself, we can’t hide from Schönborn forever. So let’s beat him to it, before he grows so powerful that we have no hope of defeating him.”

  “Watch what you say, Elsa.” Lukas gave her a pleading look. “I beg you.”

  “If you won’t come with me, then I’ll go alone,” she replied stubbornly. “Waldemar von Schönborn is my father, and I refuse to run from him any longer. In fact, I think I’ve been hiding for far too long already.”

  Something told Lukas that this wasn’t just about her father. Elsa probably also liked the prospect of taking on a truly great sorcerer. She was right, though. They couldn’t evade Schönborn forever. Sooner or later, they would meet again, one way or another.

  Better it happens now, when he’s not suspecting it, Lukas thought.

  “You know we would never let you travel alone,” Giovanni said solemnly, turning to Elsa. “We all consider you our younger sister.” He gestured around at the others. “We swore to Lukas that we would watch out for you. One for all and all for one—it includes you, too.”

  “And I’ll be with you all,” Senno added. “And not just me, either.” He winked. “We won’t be completely unprotected in the city. I’ve asked a few old friends of yours to join us.”

  “Friends we can trust?” Lukas added, eyeing Senno suspiciously.

  “Just wait and see,” Senno replied. “Anyway, with the book in your hands and me at your side, you’ll already be as safe in Prague as you are here at Castle Lohenfels, believe me. If everything goes well, we’ll be back in a few days with the Imperial Regalia.”

  “It’s settled, then.” Elsa rose to her feet with a gleam in her eyes that Lukas didn’t like at all. “I think I’ll retire to the library now and prepare the ritual. When the moon is high above the castle, we’ll set off on this long, yet short, journey.”

  Lukas stared at her, flabbergasted. “Tonight?”

  “Full moon tonight—the night of the witches.” Elsa shrugged. “We won’t find a better nigh
t than this one. Samsara al mantaya!” With those strange words, she left the hall.

  For a while they all stared glumly into the fire, not saying a word.

  “What did she mean with that spell thing?” Paulus asked at last. “Samsara whatever, you know.”

  “It means ‘Let the spell begin.’” Senno smiled and took a last long gulp of wine, licking his lips appreciatively. Then his expression turned thoughtful. “That girl really does have extraordinary powers,” he said quietly. “In every respect. We need to keep a close eye on her.”

  III

  Everyone met in the library when the bell in the castle chapel struck ten.

  The four friends had spent the day getting their weapons into top condition and making final preparations for their trip. Lukas was sure Castellan Eberhart would remain at the small Palatinate vineyard for a few more days, so he told the servants that they would be setting off very early for the cattle market in Heidelberg to look for a breeding bull.

  Besides, Eberhart couldn’t possibly suspect that we’re heading to Prague to search for the most powerful objects in the German Reich, Lukas thought. The Imperial Regalia!

  Lukas still thought using the Grimorium Nocturnum to travel to the proverbial lion’s den was absolutely insane, and he had spent hours wrestling with Elsa’s decision to go along with the plan. In these uncertain times, it would be dangerous to leave the castle in the hands of the servants and a few guards, but Lukas knew that once his sister had gotten an idea in her head, nothing and no one could stop her. Senno had promised they would be back in just a few days, so perhaps everything would be fine.

  The fact that the Imperial Regalia items were hidden in Prague, of all places, helped Lukas feel more comfortable with the idea. His mother had lived in a Prague cloister as a young nun before returning to the Palatinate to marry Lukas’s father, the knight Friedrich von Lohenfels. Their mother had described the old imperial city to him and Elsa many times. In her stories, Prague had been a place where dreams came true, populated by good spirits, water sprites, ancient churches, and crumbling palaces. Lukas had always wanted to visit it.