Sword of Power (The Black Musketeers Book 2)

by Oliver Pötzsch

  He certainly didn’t know.

  Lukas went into the kitchen, where a few embers were still glowing in the oven. After laying on some fresh pieces of wood, he sat down near the reddish glow of the fire and began cautiously flipping through the book. It was the first time he’d looked at the Grimorium closely—Elsa had always kept it from him.

  He was astonished all over again at how inconspicuous the Grimorium was, this infamous Book of the Night. It was bound in plain black leather like a prayer book. As he turned the pages, Lukas came across strange, disturbing images of people in cages with bonfires burning underneath them; other illustrations showed mythical creatures with wings, long misshapen noses, or ears the size of doors. A man with goat horns and the legs of a buck was playing some type of flute, while men, women, and children followed him, dancing.

  In between the pictures, there were sentences in a spidery, rust-red script that reminded Lukas of dried blood. He had no idea what language they were in—they looked sort of like Latin, and yet not. Here and there, he even found words that looked similar to German. Others were more like the ones Gwendolyn occasionally spoke.

  Fulmen ad solictris donnerblitz per justatem . . . nos cysgod . . .

  Lukas knew that the Grimorium Nocturnum was ancient. The bard Taliesin had written it down many, many centuries ago, back in the age of the Druids. It came from up in the North, in a faraway land by the name of Wales—the place Gwendolyn was from. Maybe she could tell him more about some of the words in the book.

  Suddenly Lukas heard whispering in the air. It took him a while to realize that the whispering was coming from out of the book. The Grimorium was speaking to him. Or was it some other dark being?

  The power, Lukas . . . the power . . . It is yours as well . . .

  Lukas straightened up, and his gaze grew hard. The past few days had proved to him that he could do magic, too. Maybe the Grimorium would help him find the last piece of Imperial Regalia, the sword of Charlemagne. And not only that! He could stop wars, change the Reich! He could become Lukas the Great. A young king on the German throne. He could . . .

  The power, Lukas. The power, the power . . .

  Lukas snapped the book shut, and the whispering fell silent. What was wrong with him? What was the Grimorium doing to him? This was probably why his mother had hidden the book instead of continuing to use it.

  The Grimorium changed the people who used it, drew them to the dark side. It made them evil.

  Lukas was filled with an overwhelming desire to throw the book straight into the oven, but he was too afraid of what he might unleash—a furious, invincible power that could destroy him and all his friends. By now he was certain the book was slowly devouring his sister from the inside. He couldn’t let her keep it any longer. But what could he possibly do?

  He glanced around the kitchen, searching. Finally, he stood up and went to one corner, where he saw a stone floor tile protruding slightly. He lifted it up and scratched away the clay underneath until he had a small hollow that was the perfect size for the Grimorium. Carefully, he laid the book inside and pushed the tile over it. He would figure out what to do with it tomorrow. He was too tired tonight, too exhausted.

  Just as he was about to go over into the tavern, the door opened and Zoltan entered. The cut on his right cheek had scabbed over and would probably soon become a scar. “Heard some noise and thought there were thieves afoot,” Zoltan grunted, eyeing the boy suspiciously. “What are you doing in the kitchen so late at night? You look sick and worried. Everything all right?”

  “Yes, I . . . ah, I was hungry,” Lukas said, grasping for an excuse. “I ate a little of yesterday’s bread. That’s all.”

  Zoltan didn’t seem entirely convinced, but eventually he waved the thought away—something else seemed to be on his mind anyway. “That Gwendolyn,” he began. “Perhaps I was mistaken about her after all. She’s brave and has helped us a lot. The same goes for your sister, by the way.” Zoltan tried to smile. “Looks like we men need the girls a little more than we thought.”

  “Do you mean you need Elsa, or you need the Grimorium?” Lukas asked in a gloomy voice.

  Zoltan shrugged. “You know I don’t like that magic any more than you do. Once upon a time on the battlefield, we fought with swords, not with this . . . this dark power. I don’t even want to imagine what our world will be like if wizards like Schönborn come to run it.” He grasped for words. “But I have to admit, without Elsa’s abilities, we probably wouldn’t be in possession of two pieces of Imperial Regalia.”

  “The book is changing her,” Lukas said.

  Zoltan sighed. “Are you sure? She’s a damned clever girl, Lukas. Perhaps she’s simply growing up. Have you ever considered that?”

  “Elsa told me more or less the same thing,” Lukas responded gruffly.

  The commander laughed. “There, you see?” He clapped Lukas on the shoulder. “It’s past time we were in bed. Maybe our mysterious helper will bring us another message soon.”

  Plagued by dark thoughts, Lukas crept upstairs and got back into bed. He was so worn out that he was asleep in seconds.

  XVII

  Lukas startled awake to the sounds of loud voices coming from the tavern. He looked around and realized that he was alone in the chamber. The morning sun shone in through the gap between the closed window shutters.

  He dressed hurriedly and went downstairs, where the others were sitting around a table in animated discussion. They all seemed very anxious. When Zoltan noticed Lukas on the stairs, he waved him over with an imperious motion. “You didn’t look well at all last night,” he said, “so I let you sleep. But it’s good that you’re awake now. It’s one catastrophe after another here.”

  “What happened?” Lukas murmured, still completely worn out.

  “What happened?” Elsa echoed, leaping up from her seat at the head of the table. She was shaking all over, and her eyes glittered feverishly as she ran her hands through her hair. “The Grimorium is gone! That’s what happened, damn it!”

  Instantly, Lukas was wide awake. For a moment, he’d forgotten that he’d hidden the Grimorium the night before. Now it came rushing back to him, along with all his fears and worries about Elsa. He’d been afraid his sister would be very, very angry when she realized the book was no longer there. But this was beyond even his wildest expectations. Elsa was completely beside herself.

  “It’s gone!” she kept repeating, over and over again. “Gone, gone, gone!”

  “Maybe you lost it up in the White Tower,” Lukas broke in. “You were unconscious . . .”

  “Oh, please,” Elsa hissed. “Gwendolyn has it!”

  “Gwendolyn?” Lukas turned to the others at the table, baffled. Only then did he realize that Gwendolyn was not among them.

  “Seems it’s true,” Bernhard replied. “Gwendolyn is gone, and so is the book. Put two and two together.” He sighed. “She’s just a dirty little thief after all.”

  Zoltan shook his head sadly. “And I’d nearly begun to trust her. What a fool I was!”

  “It can’t be,” Lukas cried, taking the last few stairs in one great leap. “I’m sure Gwendolyn doesn’t have the Grimorium!”

  “Lovesick idiot!” Jurek let out a derisive laugh. “How would you know, hm?”

  “Because.” Lukas struggled for words, desperately racking his brain. He could clear up their suspicions by just admitting that he’d hidden the Grimorium himself, but what would the others think of him then? Even worse, Elsa would get the book back. He wanted to prevent that at all costs, at least until he knew what exactly the Grimorium was doing to his sister.

  “What would Gwendolyn do with the book?” he said instead. “She can’t do magic. She probably can’t even read.”

  “She can sell it, though.” Giovanni shrugged. “Lukas, I don’t want to believe it, either, but the evidence is overwhelming. Why would she disappear without a word? And why would the Grimorium suddenly disappear at the same time?”

 
Lukas didn’t have an answer to that. He was disappointed and hurt that Gwendolyn had left without so much as a good-bye. “So, what do you plan to do now?” he asked in a flat voice.

  “What do you think?” Matthias asked. “We’re going to look for her. If she wants to sell the book, she’ll have to go to a dealer, an alchemist, or a scholar of some sort. At any rate, she won’t remain invisible.” He reached for his crossbow and began setting his oiled bolts in the box above the groove. “And when I lay eyes on her, even that little bow of hers won’t help her.”

  Zoltan nodded grimly. “We’ll hunt her down, and by God, we’ll find her. Her and the Grimorium!”

  “But . . .” Lukas began, but then realized there was no use. The others were already discussing how they would divide up their search for Gwendolyn.

  Elsa, meanwhile, kept slamming her fist down on the table, as though trying to conjure up Gwendolyn’s speedy return. “I’ll kill her!” she snarled. “When I get my hands on that harlot, I’ll kill her!”

  Lukas shuddered. He hated to think what his sister would do to Gwendolyn if she did get the magic book back.

  He was mostly silent during the discussion and planning that followed. Eventually, he and Giovanni were assigned to ask around the marketplace for Gwendolyn. Elsa would join Paulus and Jerome, who would look for her near Prague Castle. Lukas was glad that he and his sister were going to be separated. He hardly knew Elsa anymore, plus he was afraid she might see through him.

  After they had finished checking the marketplace without success, Lukas and Giovanni strolled across the stone bridge toward Wallenstein’s palace, knowing that plenty of wealthy merchants lived in the area. But none of them had ever heard of Gwendolyn, either. Finally, around midafternoon, they started back for the tavern.

  “You like Gwendolyn a lot, don’t you?” Giovanni asked after a while.

  Lukas furrowed his brow, blushing. “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m not a fool, Lukas. The way you act when she’s around, the way you talk, the way you look at her . . .” Giovanni laughed. “You’re in love, admit it. In love with a thief!”

  “What if I were?” Lukas snapped. “What business would it be of yours?”

  Giovanni halted in his tracks and gripped Lukas’s arm. “I’m your friend, remember? I just don’t want you to end up on the road to disaster. Pretty girls have been the ruin of many men.”

  “Oh, leave me alone with your clever sayings,” Lukas retorted, jerking his arm free. “We should be worrying about Elsa, not Gwendolyn. Did you see how she was acting at the table earlier? That book has completely taken over her mind! Now that it’s gone, she’s losing control of herself.”

  Giovanni nodded solemnly. “You’re right. Elsa’s changing—it’s unnerving. That book is truly a curse.” He sighed. “Maybe it’s for the best that Gwendolyn has run off with it. At least now the Grimorium can’t do any more harm.”

  “God in heaven, how many times do I have to tell you? Gwendolyn hasn’t run off with the book! She . . .” Lukas broke off midsentence when he saw Paulus and Jerome approaching, waving them over excitedly. They were now less than a stone’s throw from the Black Boar.

  “Zoltan’s caught Gwendolyn!” Jerome called to them. “He tracked her down in the new part of town, at a peddler’s! She fought him tooth and nail, and now she’s back down in the beer cellar, ranting and raving.”

  “And the book?” Giovanni asked.

  Paulus wiped the sweat from his brow. “She didn’t have it,” he wheezed, still out of breath from running. “Stubborn little beast isn’t talking, but the commander says he’ll beat it out of her.” He knitted his brow. “This time old Zoltan genuinely means it, I’m afraid.”

  Lukas froze in horror. If Zoltan was convinced that Gwendolyn knew where the book was, there was no doubt that he’d hurt her terribly. The commander of the Black Musketeers was a good man deep down, but he was also a soldier. He’d made it fairly clear that they needed the Grimorium to continue their search. Zoltan might well send one-eyed Jurek and his knives down to torture her.

  Lukas wrestled with himself. What should he do? If he admitted the theft, Elsa would never forgive him, plus the Grimorium would continue to change her. On the other hand, he would save Gwendolyn. Beautiful, red-haired Gwendolyn—who hadn’t actually stolen the book.

  Elsa or Gwendolyn . . .

  “I have to tell you all something,” he said after a while.

  “What, that you’re in love with Gwendolyn?” Jerome giggled. “We’ve all known that for a while.”

  “No, that’s not it.” Lukas shook his head. “It’s about the book. Gwendolyn doesn’t have it.”

  “How would you know?” Paulus asked.

  “Because I have it. So let’s go put an end to this circus, once and for all.” Lukas left his dumbfounded friends standing there and walked toward the Black Boar with a grim expression on his face.

  “Why would you do such a thing, Lukas? Why?” Zoltan was staring at the boy, shaking his head repeatedly. They were all sitting around the table in the tavern again, except this time Lukas was standing before them like a defendant in court. Elsa was huddled like a spider at the farthest end of the table, clutching the Grimorium tightly. Lukas had retrieved the book from its hiding place in the kitchen and returned it to Elsa. Since then, his sister had neither spoken to nor looked at him.

  “Again, why did you do it?” Zoltan repeated. “You know we need the Grimorium!”

  “Because I wanted to protect Elsa,” Lukas replied quietly. “The book is turning her evil. I know it.” He turned to Zoltan. “You said yourself that you don’t like witchcraft. Just look at what it’s turned her into.”

  “Liar!” Elsa hissed, still avoiding his gaze. “You wanted the book for yourself! Now you’ve realized that you have magic powers, too, so you want to take it away from me!”

  “Is that true, Lukas?” Zoltan asked. “Did you want the book for yourself?”

  Lukas shook his head but remained silent. He had the feeling that he was saying all the wrong things.

  Finally, Zoltan leaned back and crossed his arms. “If you say so, boy.” He was silent for a while before continuing. “You’re right, I don’t like this witchcraft nonsense. But from the looks of it, it’s our only hope of preventing something even worse. And you, Lukas, you betrayed everything the Black Musketeers stand for: honesty and loyalty! God in heaven, I need to be able to trust my people!” He sighed deeply. “I suppose we all need a break from one another. Especially you and your little sister. And because Elsa and the Grimorium are essential to our mission, you’ll stay behind on our next foray. That will be best for everyone.”

  “Isn’t that a bit harsh?” Matthias put in. “The boy didn’t mean any harm by it. If he promises that—”

  “Quiet, now!” Zoltan barked, cutting him off. “That’s my final word. We’ve wasted enough time as it is. Now, let’s go retrieve that blasted imperial sword, so we can return to our regiment already.”

  “We’d have to know where it was first,” Bernhard said.

  Zoltan whipped a letter out from beneath his doublet. It was written on the same fine handmade paper as the first two. “I just found another message outside, in front of the door,” the commander explained. “Our wonderful stranger has finally told us where to find the third piece of Regalia.”

  Excited murmuring broke out around the table.

  “So, where is the sword?” Matthias asked. “Tell us, Commander!”

  “I’ll tell you as soon as we’ve brought this young man down to join his beloved in the cellar.”

  “You’re really going to leave me here?” Lukas was thunderstruck. “But . . .”

  “You stole that book, Lukas,” Zoltan replied. “Behavior unworthy of a Black Musketeer, even if your intentions were supposedly noble. It’s better if you stay here and calm down.”

  “But what about Gwendolyn?” Lukas asked. “She had nothing to do with the theft, so there’s no r
eason to keep her here!”

  “She still hasn’t explained why she ran off so suddenly. Stubborn little beast won’t say a word.” Zoltan shook his head. “I can’t trust her, so she’s staying here, same as you.”

  “If Lukas has to stay behind, then so will we,” Giovanni said in a firm voice. He turned to look at Paulus and Jerome, who nodded resolutely as well. “We’re his friends. All for one, one for all. We swore an oath to one another.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Zoltan grunted. “That doesn’t help anybody. I need every single one of you. Especially now, when we search for the imperial sword.”

  “One for all and all for one, c’est vrai,” Jerome repeated solemnly.

  “It’s all right, Jerome.” Lukas squeezed his hand. “Go ahead and go.”

  “But—” Paulus began.

  “Zoltan is right,” Lukas interrupted, straightening up and glancing around at his friends. “It doesn’t help anyone if you stay here with me. If we ever want to be done with this madness, we need the third piece of Imperial Regalia.” Dropping his voice to a whisper, he added, “Do it for Elsa. She needs your protection.”

  Giovanni hesitated, but then nodded. “Well, if that’s what you think, all right. But only because you asked us to, you bullheaded fool.”

  Zoltan signaled to Bernhard and the one-eyed Jurek. “Bring the boy down to the cellar,” he ordered. “I don’t want him to get any foolish ideas.”

  “I promise you that we’ll look after Elsa,” Matthias whispered to Lukas, before the other two led him down into the cellar.

  This time, Gwendolyn didn’t pounce on Lukas like a feral cat. She was leaning against one of the barrels in the back, facing away from him. Her red tresses shone in the faint evening light that fell in through the small window. The door slammed shut behind Lukas, and Bernhard’s and Jurek’s footfalls echoed in the stairwell. Then all was silent.

  After standing there for some time with no reaction from Gwendolyn, Lukas cleared his throat. “Looks like we’ll have to tolerate each other’s company for a while,” he said in a quiet voice. “I told them that you didn’t take the book.”