Teo met Ana’s eyes, and they burst into laughter as the sailboat left the calank under the warm Mediterranean sun.
The Bay of Marsay was a disaster. Wrecked ships were strewn everywhere, upended, rolled on their sides, or partially submerged. Debris bobbed in the water and washed up on shore. The worst was near the entrance to the harbor. The jumble there was so bad, Teo couldn’t tell where one ship ended and the next began.
“What happened?” Ana wondered.
“I guess they got tangled while making a run from the storm. I doubt many people survived.” He glanced at Ana, who bit her lip. Teo grimaced and said nothing.
The little sailboat was able to slip past the deadly tangle through water too shallow for an oceangoing ship. Teo lowered the sail as he neared the dock, and Ana looped a hemp mooring line around a bollard. Stevedores and sailors gawked at the strange pair clambering onto the pier.
“I don’t see the Midnight Glider,” Ana said disconsolately.
Teo was reminding himself not to offer her any cheap assurances when a familiar voice hailed him. “So the sea threw you back, eh, amico?”
A wide smile spread on Teo’s face as he turned and saw Marco and Vanita approaching down the wharf. Ana uttered a cry of relief and ran to greet her friend. Vanita was equally relieved to see Ana alive.
“Quite a day yesterday!” Teo said as he shook hands with Marco and clapped him on the back. “Looks like you made it in safe though.”
Marco dropped his head, and Vanita quickly intervened. “Our friend made a grievous sacrifice for a noble cause. He gave up his ship in order to destroy the Clan.”
The foursome was quiet for a moment, until Marco finally broke the awkward silence with a laugh. “What can I say? I was looking for a new direction in life. This was my best chance to find it.”
“He’s a hero,” Vanita said, entwining her arm in his.
“Well done,” Teo agreed.
Although he wanted to head straight to Castle d’If, Teo realized his first priority had to be medical care for his leg. The arrow had entered his calf just below the knee, but fortunately it had angled out instead of penetrating deep into the muscle. Marco’s ship doctor irrigated the wound with a syringe, then applied an ointment of honey and garlic before affixing clean bandages. A bitter concoction of willow bark helped with the pain. The wound had already started closing, and Teo found he could lean on a stick and limp around enough to get by.
An afternoon ferryboat took the two couples from the harbor to the island in the bay. Marco explained that Sol and Brother Thomas had been awaiting news of Teo and Ana before deciding how to proceed. “Now that you’ve shown up,” Marco said, “they’re going to want to confront Odo head-on.”
The stocky friar was standing next to Sol on the dock when the ferryboat arrived. “I thought that was you on the boat! Praise Deus, you’re alive!”
“Je suis difficile de tuer,” Teo said in Brother Thomas’s native tongue. The remark made the knight break into laughter.
“Fêtons ta survie avec un cadeau,” he replied, then brought his hands from behind his back.
“My weapons! You saved them! Thank you, my friend!”
Brother Thomas leaned close and spoke in Teo’s ear as he handed over the sword and ax. “I got the Secunda too,” he said, “but I thought I’d better bring the weapons now. Belt them on. You might find you’ll be needing them.”
The six friends turned to walk—or hobble—uphill to the castle. The island was busy. Militiamen skirmished and drilled on the parade grounds or navigated the obstacle course. Teo could detect a heightened sense of urgency around Castle d’If.
A young page met the visitors at the castle gate and escorted them upstairs to Odo’s chambers. Teo took Ana’s elbow and drew her aside. “This guy doesn’t allow women in his immediate presence,” he whispered. “Maybe you and Vanita should wait in the guest rooms.”
“Okay. I’m not really dressed for a meeting like this anyway.”
“We’ll go find the castle steward,” Vanita agreed. The two women moved off down the hall.
The page opened the door to Odo’s private chambers. Luxurious tapestries draped the walls, and a thick Likurian carpet lay spread on the floor. Odo emerged from his bedroom as his visitors entered, wearing an impeccable military uniform with chevrons on the shoulders. His demeanor was cordial. “My, my, Teofil! It seems you have quite a knack for trouble! I heard you were thrown overboard in the storm. It is good to see you alive.”
“It’s nice to see you as well, Commander Odo,” Teo replied diplomatically.
“Please, take a seat.” Odo gestured to some chairs, then snapped his fingers at the page, who pushed a wine cart forward and began to fill the glasses.
At that moment the bedroom door creaked open, and a long-haired young woman peeked out. Her makeup was as heavy as her clothing was scanty. Odo’s face flushed. He frowned at the girl and shooed her away with the back of his hand. She hurried to the door and dashed out.
Odo turned back to his visitors as if he had done no more than brush lint from his sleeve. “Now then, gentlemen, perhaps one of you can tell me why I have the pleasure of your company today.”
“Commander, it’s time to marshal your forces for war,” Teo said.
“To defend Jineve,” Brother Thomas added. “There is no time to waste.”
Odo sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Haven’t we been down this road before?”
“We have,” said Brother Thomas. “You advised us to obtain the counsel of the Holy Father.”
“Indeed I did. I fear it is most unwise for the knights to move without his advice. Unfortunately, our great leader is far from us.”
Teo nodded toward Sol, who drew a leather wallet from his tunic and removed the parchment inside. “Not as far as you might think,” Teo said.
Odo snatched the parchment from Sol. His brow furrowed, and his cheeks grew red as he scanned the papal bull ordering the Knights of Marsay to march to Jineve’s defense. He rose from his chair, his face livid. “It’s a forgery!” he cried.
Sol shook his head. “It has the Holy Father’s seal impressed into the wax.”
“This is insane! Why should we interfere in the affairs of that foreign kingdom?”
Teo finally snapped. He rose to face Odo, though Marco’s hand on his arm restrained him from taking a step forward. “You want to know why?” Teo barked. “I’ll tell you why! Because the Iron Shield is on his way to Chiveis with a cargo of deadly chemicals! If the High Priestess gets ahold of it, she’ll turn it into a weapon that will cover the whole earth in evil!”
Odo gave Teo an icy stare. “I am well aware of that man’s movements, Teofil. He sailed into the Rone delta just before the storm hit. My toll inspectors collected a hefty tax from him.”
“Toll inspectors!” Teo couldn’t believe his ears. “You let him pass?”
“Of course I let him pass. He has committed no crime that I know of. And the money we obtained can be used for holy purposes.”
Teo darted forward and grabbed a handful of Odo’s shirt. “Like what? More courtesans?”
“Get your hands off me!” Odo shrieked.
The commander spun hard out of Teo’s grasp, but as he whirled, his foot snagged on the wine cart and he stumbled toward the fireplace. Though he caught himself on the hearth, the slip of parchment in his hand was hurled into the flames. In a matter of seconds the papal bull went up in smoke. Everyone stared at it, dumbfounded.
Odo was the first to speak. “Well, gentlemen,” he said with forced composure, “so much for the will of the Holy Father.”
Before anyone could reply, the page reappeared at the door, ringing a little bell. “Commander Odo, I have urgent news. A ship has just arrived.”
“Where from?” Odo snapped.
“From Roma.”
C H A P T E R
12
The great eagle gazed across the jagged peaks, its wings folded, its visage impassive. For more t
han four centuries the hulking sculpture had been guarding the mountain pass, a stern-faced sentinel carved from blocks of stone. Though the Ancients had erected the monument to mark their Simplon Pass, the place was now called Eagle Pass in honor of its long-time resident.
Count Federco Borromo stood beneath the eagle statue as he stared toward the far northern horizon. Everything behind him belonged to the Kingdom of Ulmbartia, while everything that lay ahead was untamed wilderness.
The count had been skirmishing with the Rovers on the civilized side of the pass for the last two months. Ever since the great victory at the avalanche, things had been going his way. The kidnapped prisoners had been rescued, and the Ulmbartian hinterland had been cleared of the Rovers’ presence. Now Federco intended to station a garrison on the pass until the winter snows closed it next fall. No longer would the vicious barbarians be able to raid the shepherds and villagers trying to eke out a living on their hardscrabble farms. That was a fine accomplishment, but Count Federco had his eyes on more.
The young lieutenant who served as the expedition’s second-in- command approached Federco from behind. “The mule train has arrived with the tents,” he said. “Where would you like us to set them up?”
The count pointed to the remains of a hospice building along the road. “The Ancients picked a good spot. Erect the tents in the lee of that old ruin.”
“Very good, sir.”
The lieutenant turned to go, but Federco stopped him with another command. “And send me the tracker right away,” he added.
It wasn’t long before the fair-haired pathfinder came to Federco’s side. He saluted crisply. “You asked for me, Commander?”
“I did. You’re one of the few men who’s been down the far side of this pass. What’s out there?”
“A wide river valley runs through the mountains. It’s flat and fertile in places. Grapevines will grow on the south-facing slopes. Not a bad land, actually. The Ancients had many settlements there.”
“But it’s all returned to forest now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the river flows westward, if I’m not mistaken?”
“That’s right. You follow it downstream about eighty-five leagues, then turn south to reach the pass discovered by Teofil of Chiveis.”
Federco glanced at his chief tracker. The slender man had an effeminate way about him, yet his intuitive knowledge of wilderness paths was uncanny. “What’s upstream?”
The tracker looked startled. “I don’t know, sir. We’ve never explored that direction. There are some animal trails that follow the river up to a high glacier. I don’t know whether there’s a way through the mountains or not. There might be another pass, or it might be a dead end.”
Count Federco pointed toward the ancient roadbed that descended from Eagle Pass into the unknown. “Well, Bard, don’t you think it’s time we found out?”
Teo limped out the front gate of Castle d’If and looked at the island’s dock. His heart leaped when he saw the ship that had just arrived, for he recognized its make as Roman. It was an archaic type of vessel propelled by oars in addition to sails. Such galleys had been used by the Exterminati, who enslaved people with physical deformities to work as rowers. When these “defectives” rebelled against their masters and threw off their yoke of oppression, they sailed to Roma and helped turn the tide of the battle at the basilica. In recognition of their contribution, the Papa had renamed them the Beloved. He had even appointed some of them to row his personal ship, a well-paying job with honor and prestige.
The galley maneuvered close to the dock and lowered a gangplank. Men and women in the brown robes of the Universal Communion started coming ashore. Teo watched until he saw what he hoped for: one of the visitors was dressed in white. Even from a distance, Teo recognized the aristocratic bearing and aquiline features of the Papa. Though he wasn’t tall or imposing, his demeanor was naturally authoritative. The Papa was in his midforties, a trim, energetic man with close-cropped dark hair. An aura of godliness surrounded him, an intangible quality that came from his habit of constant prayer.
Things are about to change at Castle d’If, Teo thought.
“Out of my way,” Odo grumped as he brushed past. “I must greet my esteemed guest.”
The commander of the Order of the Cross met the Papa a short distance from the dock. Teo winced as he watched the obsequious Odo put on a pretense of civility, leading the Papa toward the castle with a stiff grin plastered on his face. Around the island, the knights and Marsayan militiamen set down their practice weapons and began to edge toward the keep. The distinguished visitor had created quite a stir, and everyone wanted to hear what he would have to say.
Soon a large crowd had gathered in the dim light of Castle d’If’s courtyard. Torches burned in wall sconces, their smoke seeping past the awning above. Although the spectators were packed shoulder to shoulder, more kept pressing in. Teo spotted Marco across the way, and he also noticed the arrival of Liber, whose physical strength made him an obvious choice to be one of the Papa’s rowers. Brother Thomas was there too, but Teo saw no sign of Ana or Vanita.
“Quiet, everyone,” Odo said from the walkway that encircled the courtyard like a balcony. “As you can see, we have a visitor from afar. I am pleased to introduce the Papa of our religion, who has come all the way from Roma. He wishes to address a matter of supreme urgency.” Odo glanced at the Papa, then looked back to the upturned faces. “Let us pray all his words will be in accord with the holy scriptures of Deus.”
A hush settled on the crowd as the Papa climbed the stairs to the gallery. For years the Holy Father of the Universal Communion had been little more than a symbol, a distant figurehead who might not even exist. But now here he was, in the flesh and ready to speak. His words would be nothing short of momentous.
“I bring you greetings, brothers and sisters, in the name of Almighty Deus and his son Iesus Christus!” A translator relayed the Papa’s salutation from Talyano into Fransais, and the people nodded their approval. “As you well know,” he continued, “times have been hard at Roma for the past four decades. Evildoers have prevented me from contacting you. But things have begun to change! Deus has done a mighty work, defeating our most hostile opponent. I now have the freedom to travel for the first time in many years. Long has my heart desired to establish a friendship with the Christiani of Marsay, and today I do so! I welcome you with open arms as fellow believers in Deus.” The Papa paused, his face growing troubled. “Unfortunately, my meeting with you is bittersweet, for it comes with bad news.”
At this last statement the crowd let out a collective groan. No one knew what the bad news would be, but coming from such an august visitor it must be grievous indeed. Everyone leaned forward to hear the dreaded announcement.
Resting his hands on the gallery’s wrought-iron railing, the Papa pressed his point. “My friends, the forces of wickedness are stirring in the world. No longer will the nations isolate themselves from one another. War is coming—war that is undergirded by dark powers of the demonic realm. But do not fear! It is for times like this that you have prepared yourselves. This is why you have trained so diligently under the knights’ watchful eyes. Now it is time to act! The kingdom of Jineve lies a few days’ journey up the Rone River. That land stands in great peril, for a pagan priestess from another kingdom seeks to invade it. If she achieves this goal, empowered by unclean spirits, she will spread a blight not only upon Marsay but all the known world. Therefore I call upon you now, men of valor! I call upon you to stand firm against this atrocity and turn back the tide of evil.”
For a long moment, absolute silence hung over the courtyard as everyone grappled with the Papa’s bold challenge. Then, before anyone else could speak, a single voice broke the stillness.
“Heresy!” Odo cried. “The Holy Father speaks heresy!”
Teo’s head snapped around. He bristled at Odo’s outrageous allegation. Angered, he began to force his way through the crowd toward the stairs
.
“Heresy!” Odo accused again as he approached the Papa with a book in his hand. The onlookers shrank back as the ominous word echoed around the courtyard. Opening his leather-bound volume, Odo stabbed a page with his forefinger and read aloud: “Hear the book of Departure, chapter 16, verse 29: ‘Let each man remain in his place, and let no one depart from his place.’ ” Flipping the pages with a triumphant expression, Odo found another passage. “Now listen to the words of the Maxims, chapter 20, verse 3: ‘It is an honor for a man to abstain from quarrels, but every fool indulges in passion.’ ” Odo lowered his book and pointed a finger at the Papa. “This man is filled with turbulent passions! That is why he tells you to act contrary to the will of Almighty Deus! He urges you into fights and quarrels, when the holy writings tell us to remain in our place.”
“I agree!” called a voice from the crowd. “The Holy Father is a heretic!” Teo recognized the speaker as one of Odo’s ever-present toadies.
The Papa had been meditating with his head bowed during the outburst, but now he looked up at Odo. His eyes blazed, and his jaw was set firm. “Stand aside, Commander,” he said. “Your interpretation of scripture is poor, and your motives are even worse. You shall not prevail today. Again I say to you: stand aside or be judged.”
“What? You want me to stand aside? You’re the heretic here!”
Odo nodded toward several of his guards, who began to climb the stairs to the gallery. When the leader drew his sword, Teo burst into action as well. Dashing up the steps behind the men, he ran the opposite way around the gallery and arrived at the Papa’s side just as the knights reached Odo. Pain throbbed in Teo’s calf, but that was irrelevant. He drew the sword of Armand and stepped in front of the Papa, creating a stalemate on the narrow walkway.
“Now what are you going to do?” Teo challenged.
The Papa intervened. Gently touching Teo’s wrist, he said, “Teofil of Chiveis, please put away your weapon.”
Teo glanced at the Papa for clarification and received a confirming nod. Reluctantly he sheathed his sword, though he kept his hand on the hilt.
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