by Dave Duncan
“High treason, my lady,” Eadig said. “I think he’s trying to murder the king. He knew about Sir Courtney writing to the king, and more or less said he ordered Odell to kill the old man, too. He guessed that the king would send someone to investigate, and he used magic to see that there were five of us on our way here, to Lincoln. Only four of us showed up at the castle, so he knows Sage Durwin is in the town.”
“But how does he hope to murder the king?”
Of course a fine lady like her would know nothing about magic. Having had a very long night to think it out, Eadig had no trouble in spelling it out.
“He knew that the king would send someone he trusts to investigate hints of treason, and when Sir Neil returns to France, wherever the king is, the king will want to hear his report in person. And then Neil will kill him, because he’s been enchanted to do that by black magic.”
Nicholaa looked helplessly to Elvire.
“It sounds very farfetched, my lady,” the older woman said, “but if there’s any truth at all in it, then you must do something, as quickly as possible.”
“You don’t believe me?” Eadig said. “Just go to the sanctum and you’ll find two men in chains and one dead or badly hurt.”
“Eadig, the problem is that I don’t know who I can trust. You say they’ve even got Odell. Odell a killer? He used to carry me on his shoulders when I was a child. ‘Gentle giant’ they called him. And Father? You think his stroke was really caused by a curse?”
It was very flattering to be consulted by such a lady. And she was clever, because he hadn’t thought that Lord Richard might have been cursed. “Did it happen after Quentin got here?”
She nodded miserably. “The new sheriff arrived, and Father approved of him, told me he was going to be a very good sheriff. Then Quentin came. And—”
“Did he arrive with Sheriff Alured?”
“No. He just turned up as a traveling enchanter, so of course Sage Bjarni invited him to stay for a while. Father had his first stroke while he was still here. He got very angry with Bjarni because he couldn’t heal him, so he sent Bjarni away and appointed Quentin castle sage in his place. That could have been another enchantment, couldn’t it?”
“Oh yes, ma’am. But it would be black magic, an’ I don’t know much about that.”
“And soon he had another stroke and Quentin’s done him no more good than Bjarni did.”
“Some maladies can’t be cured, my lady. But Durwin is a wonderful healer. He’d know what’s wrong with your father.”
“Black magic, right here in our castle!” Nicholaa said. “I promised Father I’d take care of things until he got better. And now that monster is working black magic? He demanded the old jail as his sanctum because he said the Bjarni’s room was too small. I didn’t object because we never used that building. I had no idea that he was going to turn it into his personal dungeon and torture chamber.”
“Course,” Eadig said, “I don’ want to bring Durwin into the castle for Quentin and Corneille to enchant, but he ought to be warned, because now they’ve got his name, they can summon him, or curse him.”
“You don’t know where he is?”
“No, ma’am. He was going to look for enchanters in the town.”
“Most of them are Quentin’s men,” Elvire said. “Walter, Henri, and Tancred. All the old enchanters either left or died.”
“We should have been suspicious about that,” Lady Nicholaa said. “A new enchanter every month? Who’s the other one, the one who hasn’t left?”
“Harald Larson.”
“Right. I think we should consult him. He’s been here as long as I can remember.”
“Maybe Durwin’s found him?” Eadig suggested. He wasn’t sure what spell would do that, but if there was one, Durwin would know it. And perhaps the Min Færeld blessing they had chanted to bless their journey would have led him to the right person. It hadn’t done much for Eadig son of Edwin, though.
Nicholaa turned to him. “And we have to get you out of the castle. You’re not safe here.”
He wouldn’t be safe anywhere if Corneille learned his real name, as he had learned Durwin’s. And of course Durwin wasn’t safe either, and must be warned of that, if there was still time.
“They’ll be looking for me at the gates,” he said.
Nicholaa nodded. “Yes, the word went out. There’s some men still loyal to me, and I was asked if I approved of those orders. That’s why I sent Basile and the others to try and find you first. What do you think, Elvire? Could we smuggle Master Eadig out of the castle?”
Elvire looked appraisingly at Eadig. “Oh, yes, my lady. No problem at all. He isn’t going to like it, though.”
chapter 15
i could not imagine what lady would be asking after me in Lincoln, but I stood up and said, “Then pray admit her.” Lars and Lovise rose also, looking as puzzled as I felt.
At least a dozen patients were waiting to see Harald, but they had naturally given precedence to a woman dressed as a lady, so she was right out there in the hallway, and Harald had only to step aside and in she came, followed by her maid. She was tall, middle-aged, imperious, and not a true noblewoman, for her gown and bonnet indicated either a prosperous merchant’s wife or a very senior servant.
I bowed. “Sage Durwin of Helmdon at your service, ma’am.” She curtseyed. “I am Elvire, mistress of robes to Lady Nicholaa, daughter of the lord constable and currently his deputy.” Hallelujah! “Then you are indeed welcome, mistress.” I presented the Larson siblings and bade her be seated.
Only then did I glance at her maid, wondering if I should evict her from the coming conference. She could not matter. The only reason for her to be there at all would be that no woman who had aspirations to be regarded as a lady would venture into town without a servant companion. The girl in question was young, blonde, simply dressed, and flushing furiously redder than a setting sun. I felt a second, enormous, breathtaking surge of relief.
“I find your bosom exciting, miss. What are you using to pad it out like that?” My question no doubt horrifying Lovise and Lars, because the “maid” was very convincing.
“Dead rats, mostly,” Eadig said, and proceeded to strip off his disguise while I introduced him. I was so glad to see him that I wanted to hug him. He would likely have reacted with violence.
I thought Lars would explode, but he managed to keep his merriment hidden well enough that Eadig could pretend not to notice it. So four of us sat down while Lovise began preparations for dinner. For the next hour or so, Eadig related his news as I have already recorded it, up to the point where he had walked unchallenged out of the castle in attendance on Elvire. For him I outlined my adventures in releasing Harald from a spell and being saved from another by Lars and Lovise.
Then everyone was waiting for me to lead them out of this vale of horrors.
“Right!” I said, although obviously almost nothing was right. “Now we all know where we stand. From what Eadig witnessed, the Satanists’ leader is this Corneille, a sage posing as an adept. He was the last to appear on stage, right, Elvire? When was that, do you remember?”
“Three or four weeks ago.”
“About the time the late Sir Courtney wrote or did not write the letter that brought us here! Corneille completed the five they need to perform pentacle magic. Tonight he will summon his three town accomplices into the castle to work whatever obscenities he is planning. Black magic should be performed during the hours of darkness, of course, preferably around midnight. Can the town healers get into the castle after curfew, Elvire?”
“Not legally, but I wouldn’t count on them being kept out in this case.”
“Why, if Lady Nicholaa is currently in charge of the castle, can’t she just order a squad of men-at-arms to break into the sanctum and release Sir Neil and Squire Piers?”
Elvire nailed me with a killer glance for doubting her mistress’s loyalty or competence.
“Because she does not know who can be
trusted. Most of the garrison are no doubt loyal, but if Sage Quentin has enslaved Sergeant-at-arms Odell to obey obviously illegal orders, then anybody could be in his power. I know that some of the garrison are terrified of him.”
“Odell,” Eadig said, “is a real giant!”
Of course Lady Nicholaa herself must be justifiably frightened by what was going on. If her father had been immobilized by a curse, she could be stricken in the same way if she ever tried to oppose the conspirators.
I had another question. “Tell me about the visitors this summer.”
Elvire looked blank. “Which visitors were those, Sage?”
“Sir Courtney’s letter—which I have not seen—reportedly included a list of noble persons who had visited the castle this summer but had no known business to come anywhere near it.”
“There were no such visitors,” she said flatly. “Lord Richard has been indisposed, and Sir Alured has been much too busy with his duties as the new sheriff. Ever since her mother died, Nicholaa has been her father’s hostess, so I would certainly know if she had been dressing to meet any guests of quality.” Case closed.
Clever, clever! Now I saw the plot more clearly. “Then Sir Courtney’s letter was not written by Sir Courtney. It was a carefully designed forgery, indicting a list of men whose loyalty the king might suspect, and it mentioned enchantment. Either accusation on its own might not prompt his direct response, but the two together were doubly potent. He sent a confidant to investigate, one of his familiares, instead of just forwarding the letter to the justiciar.”
No one argued. I realized then also, although I did not mention it, that the list of accused traitors could have served another purpose. The king would almost certainly have handed the letter to his enchanter general for a credibility test, and de Fours would have discovered that there were both facts and lies in it, although his magic would not have distinguished which was which. Had the false accusations not been included, the letter would have registered as truth, and the king would have sent the justiciar with an army. Whoever had planned this, whether Quentin or Corneille, was devilishly cunning—in this case literally so.
“Eadig, I want you to ride back to Nottingham and tell Sir Vernon Cheadle what has happened. He must sent word to Earl Robert of Leicester, the justiciar. Whatever these Satanists are up to must be stopped, and I don’t think you and I can do that by ourselves.”
Eadig did not want to ride back to Nottingham and miss all the fun. “Bon Appétit’s in the castle paddock. Can’t get him.” Smirk.
I was equally determined that he was not going back into the castle and the peril of death or torture. “Lars, could he borrow your horse?”
Lars laughed. “Methuselah’s older than I am. He might be able to carry Eadig halfway, if Eadig will carry him the rest.”
Eadig’s grin grew wider.
I considered sending Lars on Ruffian, but Ruffian would not carry a stranger without a tremendous battle, and Vernon would not trust a letter delivered by someone he did not know.
“It looks like you’re going to be riding Ruffian.”
Eadig grimaced. “Should be a quicker death than Corneille would give me.”
“He knows you.”
“So does Corneille.”
I wiped the smile off his face with one deadly look. “No arguments, Adept. The fate of England may depend on you. I’ll write a letter for you to take. Now, mistress Elvire, I suppose it is possible that Lord Richard’s indisposition was caused by enchantment. Describe how he was smitten.”
She did so, but the symptoms of dementia are so easily imitated by curses that I could reach no conclusion. I thanked her and said, “Then I think my first act should be to visit him and see if I can restore him as I restored Healer Larson. It’s a long shot, because if it was a curse, or a series of curses, then it began months ago. Reversing an enchantment after so long will be extremely difficult, probably impossible.”
“You’ll need a cantor!” Eadig said quickly.
“I can chant!” Lars said.
Big as he was, I was sure that he was younger than Eadig, and I didn’t intend to hazard any more children in this war. Harald himself would probably want to attend the constable, but his last visit to the castle had ended in disaster, and he was known there. No other healer in the town was available, because Quentin had substituted his own men for all of them. The man had planned his treason with great cunning.
“I’ll come with you,” Lovise said.
I opened my mouth to refuse and then realized that she was the logical one to take. A woman entering the castle would attract less suspicion than another man would, and be less likely to be questioned while she was in there.
“If your father agrees, I’d be very grateful for your help,” I said.
“Let’s not tell him until after we’ve gone.”
“Brilliant!” I said and caught Lars and Eadig exchanging amused looks. Heavens, was I that transparent?
Harald joined us for dinner, and the six of us reviewed the situation over and over while we ate, although the seniors spoke more and the youngsters mostly did the eating. I think it was Mistress Elvire’s testimony that persuaded Harald to believe in the extent of the conspiracy, which he called a coven. It had already caused an appalling death toll: likely Francois, probably Bjarni, Sir Courtney, Nerian, and Peter. Two of the king’s men had been imprisoned and tortured. Harald himself and probably Constable Richard had been incapacitated.
“But why?” Lovise asked. “What under Heaven can he hope to achieve with all this evil?”
I agreed with Eadig’s suggestion that it was all an involved, very sly plot to enslave Neil and his brother to perform some hellish evil. I did not put it into words because it would sound so farfetched, even to me. All the enchanters involved bore French names. That did not prove that they had not been born in England, but they could as easily be natives of France, and King Louis was Henry’s sworn enemy, who never missed a chance to do him harm.
“Whatever it is, it will happen tonight, at midnight. He will collect his accomplices to join him on the pentacle and the five of them will summon the denizens of Hell.”
Eadig was less reticent. “And Neil and Piers will be the victims.”
After a few moments’ silence, Harald said, “Enthralled, you think?”
“That seems likely,” I agreed. “And deluded into thinking nothing is wrong; freed to go back to feed false reports to the king.”
“Or kill the king!” Eadig said.
I shuddered. Why had I not seen that? “Or kill the king,” I agreed.
Surprisingly, it was Harald who proposed the logical next step. “I have a Maledicto in my grimoire.”
“Two voice?” I asked.
“Three, I think. I have never used it.”
“Let’s take a vote on that, because we’ll be treading very close to performing black magic ourselves. We six alone know what is going to happen. What Healer Harald is proposing is that we strike at these traitors by cursing each of them. I’m sure that any chants we have available cannot be near as deadly as whatever they are using and are going to use, but if we can even give them all belly aches, that could gain us some time. This battle will be dangerous, because they will surely strike back at us. Lars, I think you are the youngest—speak.”
Lars glanced disbelievingly at Eadig but then said, “Hit ’em!”
Eadig nodded. Lovise nodded.
Elvire and Harald and I all nodded at the same time.
“The Ayes have it,” I said. “Harald, if you will find your malediction, I will find the one I brought so we can compare them. Lars, can you saddle Ruffian? Lovise, do you have a piece of parchment that I can use to write to Sir Vernon in Nottingham?”
To Vernon Gheable, Kt., at Nottingham Castle, from Sage Durwin of Helmdon, at the house of Healer Larson, in Lincoln, written on the day after the Feast of the Birth of the Blessed Virgin, in the Year of Our Lord 1166, being the 12th Year of the reign of King Henry the
Second:
Greeting.
The bearer of this letter, being known to you, will relate a true story of most dastardly treason and black magic being perpetrated in His Grace’s Castle of Lincoln by Satanist Corneille Boterel. Sir Neil d’Airelle and his squire have been imprisoned and tortured, and their servant Francois has been injured, perhaps to his undoing. Sir Courtney of Blanche, whom they sought to greet, is dead, most like murdered. I beseech you to send word of these crimes to His Grace’s regent and justiciar, the noble earl of Leicester, and also to warn the Lord King in France, for I fear even worse crimes are imminent.
Farewell.
I had considerable doubt that my advice would be taken. Sir Vernon Cheadle was much more likely to put his head down and charge like a bull, straight at the gates of Lincoln Castle. He would certainly never quit the field himself by going in search of the justiciar, although he might dispatch a latter to him. He might not even consult Baron Everard, the sheriff. I had not dared mention the likelihood that Sir Neil and his brother would be turned from loyal servitors into potential accomplices by black magic, because I was certain that Vernon would reject that idea out of hand.
I gave Eadig the letter and advised him that, once he had delivered it, he should ride back to Helmdon and tell the faculty what was happening, although I couldn’t imagine what they could do.
Eadig son of Edwin never lacked courage, and he proved it by vaulting up on Ruffian’s back in that cramped little courtyard. Lars and I were hanging on to the big fellow’s cheek straps; he roared his disapproval and lifted us both off the ground. Then he staved in the water butt with his hind hooves. This terrified the old gelding, Methuselah, who backed into the privy, knocking it over. That exposed a gaping pit, in which either horse could easily break a leg. Lars roared back at Ruffian and punched his nose. Ruffian very nearly bit Lars’s ear off. At the second buck, Eadig shot straight up in the air. He came down on Lars’s side; Lars caught him and lifted him out of harm’s way.
