by Dave Duncan
"No, Jacques, do not kneel," said the spirit. "You are no less worthy than any of these men. Tobias, make your choice."
Desperately fighting for time to think, Toby shouted, "No! I don't understand."
"You do understand, but we will spell it out for you. We can exorcize the sprite, the hob, but much of you will come with it."
"That? You will turn me into that?"
"Something like him."
"He was possessed by a hob too?"
"An elemental. Dejamiento does not always work. Jacques was a very fine man in his way, but he lacked the patience and self-denial needed to become a true alumbrado. He succumbed to carnal temptations and the spirit ran amok, just as your hob did at Mezquiriz. When it was exorcized, much of Jacques was lost. The same will happen in your case, although perhaps not as severely, for he had been invested since childhood. You may not be as badly damaged as he is, but you will certainly lose something. You will do no more harm to others. You will be happy as he is happy and remain here, being well cared for, but you will not be the person you are now."
"You would turn him into a rabbit?" Hamish shouted. "This is barbaric!"
"Possession is worse," said the spirit. "Choose, Tobias."
In his vision of cutting off Hamish's head, he had been free of the hob. And he had been a slobbering moron. A demon had enforced his obedience to the baron, but the demon had not made him into that cringing idiot, that butt of the court's humor, that bumbling sycophant who would shamelessly take women to bed at his master's orders or cut off his friends' heads without a care.
To become a moron or be tortured to death? A long life of useless idiocy or a short one of unspeakable agony? It would not seem short. He wanted to ask Hamish to advise him, but that would be grossly unkind, for no man should be expected to make such a decision—not for himself nor for anyone else.
No, he could not subject his flesh to the inquisitors' torments again. And if he accepted what Montserrat ordered, he would at least be cheating Oreste of his triumph.
Hoarsely, he said, "If you will grant me asylum, then I accept the exorcism. Holiness."
"On that condition we grant you sanctuary for the remainder of your days."
"Wait!" Captain Diaz had been watching in grim silence. "If we cannot have the man, then I must still claim a certain purple gemstone he possesses, Sergeant Gomez!"
"The amethyst is mine!" Toby roared.
"What is this gem?" Father Vespianaso demanded angrily. "An immured demon?"
"No, it does not contain a demon," said the tutelary. "Give it up, Tobias. You have no further use for it."
"It has great sentimental value for me. My foster mother gave it to me, her last gift. It is my property. Will you tolerate armed robbery in your realm, Montserrat?"
Diaz stepped forward with another soldier at his heels. "You have admitted to being a demonic husk, so you have no rights in law. Give me the stone."
It was another failure, but a man should know when he is beaten. Toby fumbled at his collar to pull the thong over his head; he opened the locket and rolled out the amethyst onto Diaz's waiting palm.
Surrender.
The captain walked over to the closest torch and inspected the purple crystal. "Thank you." He came and took the locket from Toby, replaced the stone in the little bag and turned to his companion, who held out an ivory casket. The locket went in the box, and then the box into a satchel, which Diaz slung over his shoulder.
"I wish I could say that you were welcome," Toby said ruefully. "Do you know why the baron wants it so badly?"
"I do not want to know." Diaz turned to the incarnation. "And the other man. Holiness? My warrant also names Hamish Campbell."
Toby had forgotten that. He stared in horror at Hamish's pale face.
"He is not possessed! He is not guilty of any crime!" He was guilty of knowing the truth about King Nevil, though. Oreste would see him dead for that.
"He has been your accomplice for three years," Father Vespianaso retorted. "It was his duty to aid the authorities in apprehending you."
"The man Campbell belongs to us!" bellowed a new voice.
They had all been too engrossed to pay attention to the newcomers whose clattering and splashing Toby had heard earlier. Heads turned to peer in the downhill direction, where a second troop of soldiers stood in the darkness, a considerably larger force than Captain Diaz had brought. After everything that had happened already, it was not surprising that they were landsknechte.
The tutelary would never be surprised by anything. "Approach and state your claim, Leopold."
In marched the mercenary captain, a solid, powerful-looking young man whose russet beard failed to conceal a monstrous scar deforming his mouth. His doublet was splendid, his ermine-trimmed cloak hung open to display a wealth of gold chains adorning his chest. He saluted the incarnation respectfully, but he merely sneered at Diaz.
"The man slew our comrades!" His Castilian was almost incomprehensible under a harsh Germanic accent. "He to us belongs!"
Captain Diaz cocked one eyebrow. "I have a warrant from the viceroy."
"It is a matter of honor!"
"It is a matter of law. Your presence here violates your contract, Hauptmann von Münster. Why are you absent from your post at Lerida?"
"For honor, Captain. Perhaps a Catalan cannot appreciate honor?"
"My warrant names both men," Diaz said stonily, turning to the incarnation, "as your Holiness is well aware. His Excellency would be highly displeased if —"
"Are you threatening us?"
"Not at all. Holiness. I merely quote my orders."
Lightning on a dark night, claw marks in the sand—of course it was a threat! Toby should have seen the truth much sooner. The Fiend's army was supposedly excluded from Montserrat by treaty, but Diaz and Vespianaso had been waiting up at the monastery. Nevil's viceroy would never let a mere treaty stand between him and the hated Longdirk. And although Montserrat's wisdom and power were legendary, and its mountain realms immune to almost any mundane attack, it would not be able to withstand the baron's demonic legions. Oreste had sent Diaz with an ultimatum, and the spirit had yielded. The tutelary had sold out to the hexer and the Inquisition.
Von Münster was scowling at Toby with hatred and disgust. "About the creature nothing we can do, but the man is ours for justice."
"It is nice to feel wanted," Hamish remarked airily. "Shall we start the bidding at ten ducats?"
Toby shot him an admiring smile. "The fault was not his. Let him go, Hauptmann. Promise me a quick death, and you can take me instead."
"Fools you think us, demon? You stay here. We a witness have." The mercenary turned and barked orders in German.
Two men strutted forward as if they had been waiting for the command, hustling a woman along between them, and of course it was Eulalia, which explained how the landsknechte had tracked Toby into Montserrat so easily. But they must have been close on his heels even before they caught her.
"Tell the friar what you to us told!"
Although she was bedraggled and looked half frozen, her eyes flashed triumph at the sight of the prisoners. "The big one burned up the men with thunderbolts." She tossed her head defiantly and smiled as she pointed to Hamish. "I saw Jaume killing one of the foreigners with a sword."
Father Vespianaso massaged his bony fingers. "This may be more serious than we thought. Did you see evidence that he was possessed, child? Did he behave strangely, talk aloud when there was no one there, fall into trances? Did he use unnatural powers—to take advantage of you in some way, perhaps?"
Eulalia accepted the threads offered and began to embroider. "Oh yes, Father! Oh, yes! He summoned me to his bed by night, and I was unable to resist. I didn't want to go, but he had some terrible power he used that made me helpless to refuse his demands. He violated me many times, and he was supernaturally strong, strong beyond all mortal men, never tiring, never satisfied. And he would mutter strange things I couldn't understand, about
foreign places and secret books and —"
"That will do for now, my daughter."
Hell hath no fury ...
Oh, Eulalia! Her spite really should be directed at Toby, because Hamish would certainly have forgiven her by bedtime, but she must have heard enough to know that Toby was beyond her reach now. Oh, Hamish, Hamish! See what I have brought you to in return for your loyalty and friendship?
He wanted to scream. He wanted to blast the spirit of Montserrat and its famous monastery to ashes. And the Inquisition. And Oreste, who had won at last. And Nevil the Fiend, demon Rhym, the ultimate cause of all this evil. But he could do none of those things. He had lost everything.
"One hundred ducats?" Hamish said. "Do I hear two hundred? I am flattered, but unfortunately she is lying. Isn't she, Holiness?"
"She was telling the truth about the sword," the spirit said. "Everything else was exaggeration and wishful thinking. Campbell is not possessed."
"Then I take him!" snapped Diaz.
"How far do you think you will get?" the landsknecht sneered. "Spare your men's lives and your own and give him to us."
"What an unseemly squabble!" Hamish remarked, shaking his head. "Why not just agree to let me go?"
Then it was Father Vespianaso's turn again. "We must of course accept the holy spirit's declaration that the accused is not possessed. But he has undoubtedly known for many years that his companion is, and he has done nothing about it. He bears much guilt as an accomplice and must be questioned at length. If the facts are as I have just stated, then justice will be done."
"Under torture questioned?" von Münster demanded.
"Possibly."
"Only possibly?"
"Very probably. We must make quite certain that he is telling the whole truth, you understand."
"And what his penalty will be?"
The friar shrugged as if such details were unimportant. "Assuming he is found guilty, I would expect him to be sentenced to a series of public floggings followed by some years in the galleys. At least ten years. It will depend on the evidence."
Even Hamish could not smile at that.
"One of my comrades he to slay was seen!"
"Of course, there is that, too," the friar agreed. "Then, Leopold, my son, I can assure you that the man Campbell will ultimately be handed over to the civil authorities for execution—to be hanged for murder or burned at the stake for consorting with demons. Do you agree with my opinion, Antonio?"
"I am no lawyer, Father." Captain Diaz was much too wily to get caught in that mill. "My orders were to arrest these two men, take them to Barcelona, and deliver them to you for examination. His Excellency reserved only the right to ask them a few questions if he so wishes. Before you ask any, that is." His emphasis implied that after the Inquisition began its interrogation would be too late to obtain useful answers. "Longdirk has been granted asylum here, but I shall take Campbell and deliver him to the Inquisition. Does that satisfy you, von Münster? Have I your word that you will return your troop at once to Lerida and make no attempt to interfere with the transportation of these prisoners?"
The mercenary displayed his gargoyle smile again. "I so promise."
Father Vespianaso rubbed his hands in undisguised pleasure. "You will also take the witness into custody, Captain. And these other witnesses also."
Senora Collel wailed like a trampled cat.
"No!" Hamish snapped. "I confess to the killing. There is no need to arrest anyone else, Captain."
Toby moaned. Hamish was headed to torture and death, and he was to live on, growing old pottering contentedly around the monastery herb garden? It was intolerable. Everyone else here was bargaining madly—couldn't he? He was the one Oreste and Vespianaso really wanted. Could he buy back Hamish's life with his own?
"Your confession is recorded," the inquisitor said with a macabre smile. "But there is another matter that must be investigated. The massacre here tonight—was that also the demon's doing? Or do we have another demon to hunt down?" He peered at Josep, Senora Collel, and Gracia. "I still think we need to interrogate these witnesses."
Gracia uttered a shrill cry of alarm.
And Senora Collel opened her mouth... .
"Yes!" Toby yelled. "The brigands' deaths were my doing also! My demon slew them and I gloried in it. If I change my mind and refuse the exorcism, will you release all these others, including Campbell, and swear not to molest them in future?"
Would the tutelary expose his lie? Or had it planned this to fulfil its agreement with Diaz?
Father Vespianaso considered his confession with sly calculation. "Whom are you protecting? Only Campbell?"
"We accept those terms for the others," Diaz said. "But not Campbell. The two of you come and the rest can go."
Toby's mouth was incredibly dry in marked contrast to the rest of him. He knew what was in store, and strappado would be the least of it. But he could not let the inquisitors get their claws in Gracia. And he could not betray Josep, either. Hamish was beyond saving, thanks to Eulalia.
"And what happens then?" demanded von Münster. "A sword through the monster's heart? It is too good for him."
Father Vespianaso continued chafing his fingers. "He will be taken to Barcelona for examination."
"Examination?" barked the mercenary. "What is this examination? Has he not confessed? What need is there of examination? He slew our friends, and justice we seek."
The friar shook his head regretfully. "It is revenge you seek, my son, and we cannot countenance that. The Holy Office is guided by mercy and does not put men to death. It seeks only to drive out their demons. As the accused is refusing exorcism, it will be necessary to use harsher means."
"You mean you will torture him until the demon he expels?"
"Regrettably, we will have no choice. But we are moved by compassion, not a craving for vengeance."
"So he will suffer, suffer a long time?"
"He is a strong man and apparently a very determined one."
"That means yes?"
"I fear this may well be so." The friar blew on his hands again.
The scar made Hauptmann von Münster's smile particularly horrible. "Then I am satisfied. Will it be possible to view the body?"
"No. It would be too distressing for those who do not understand the need for —"
"That is enough!" said the spirit. "Antonio will take the two men named in the warrant. Leopold and his men will return peaceably to their post. And Vespianaso renounces any further proceedings against the rest. Is this your decision, Tobias?"
Unable to speak, he nodded, not looking at Gracia or Josep. He wouldn't mind taking Senora Collel and Eulalia by the scruff of their necks and banging their heads together, but that was not possible. The Inquisition would have him.
"So be it," said Montserrat.
The audience was over. When the golden shimmer vanished, the abandoned incarnation staggered. Her companions steadied her, whispering inquiries. She nodded reassuringly, and they all walked away with their heads down. One of the torchbearers went with them to light their path. Josep and the three women were hustled after them by more monks before anyone could think of suitable farewells.
Failure, despair, cold, exhaustion ...
"Sorry, friend," Toby said. "This looks like the end."
"Ah, you're as daft as I am." Despite his pallor, Hamish managed to produce a faint smile. "We never died before, did we?" He widened the smile into a reasonable facsimile of his favorite grin. "I hate ships, anyway! I didn't really want to go home. Life around you is never dull."
"You may wish it was before long."
"Trust the hob!"
Too late. Toby would be damned if the hob intervened and damned if it did not, but he must not let Hamish outdo him in courage. "Of course. We must be as strong as the rocks in the hills."
"Strong as a billy goat's third horn," said Hamish.
Horses clattered and snorted. Men were hurrying around: Captain Diaz taking over the torches
from the departing monks, von Münster mounting up and preparing to move out. The wagon Toby had heard earlier had been waiting in the background and now began squeaking forward. He was not at all surprised to see that it carried a bear cage.
"Longdirk!"
Toby looked down. "What can I do for you, Captain Diaz?"
The soldier studied the prisoner for a moment. "You're a cool one."
"I'm a very cold one at the moment. We're also hungry."
"I'll see what I can do. You are going to come quietly?"
Father Vespianaso and three other friars were standing guard around them, all four holding jeweled crucifixes. A circle of a dozen armed men backed them up. The cage would certainly be warded. It was almost flattering to inspire such precautions.
Toby managed a hollow laugh. "I know when I'm beaten."
The captain nodded. "Hands in front of him, sergeant." The last remark was addressed to a man standing beside him holding chains, and it was a welcome concession, a surprising one. It produced a frown of disapproval from Father Vespianaso.
Toby held out his wrists for the manacles.
EIGHT
Barcelona
1
Anyone but the Inquisition would have classed that journey as torture in itself. Even Hamish could not stand erect in the cage, while to sit down was to be bounced unmercifully as the wagon racketted over the rough trail. Just as it began to move out, Captain Diaz appeared with some stale bread and peppery sausage for the captives. They ate it greedily after their long day, but he had either overlooked drinking water or had none to give, so they soon found themselves racked by thirst while rain bucketed down on them. Chained hand and foot, they spent the night crouching or squatting, clinging to the bars for support and trying not to batter into each other as they were thrown about.
Dawn found them on the plain, although the road was hardly less rough and the weather little better. Other traffic appeared: peasants heading for the fields or driving animals to market, traders with wagons, a few fellow travelers hastening by on horseback. They stared apprehensively at the sight of two caged men being conducted by Dominicans, knowing them to be possessed. Fear might easily have turned to rage, but Diaz and his troopers were able to deter violence.
