Come Twilight (Saint-Germain #13)

Come Twilight (Saint-Germain #13) Page 32

Lailie regarded Germanno through narrowed eyes. "You brought me a long way to desert me," she said in a voice as cold as the summer evening was warm.

"I am not deserting you," Germanno said, knowing how futile it sounded. "The King has ordered me on a mission, and it would be unwise to disappoint him."

"So you say." She looked up at the window in the ceiling of the study. "You have to obey the King."

"If I want to remain in any of the Christian countries, yes, I do." He chose a high stool near his unfinished athanor. "I would not do this if it were not necessary."

"Would you not?" she challenged, taking two hasty steps toward him, then turning back.

"No," he said in a tone that was entirely convincing. "I would not."

She thought about this as she made a circuit of the large, open chamber. "Do you think they will let me study with them?"

Oblique as the question was, he understood it, and answered, "We should have ben Mazo's answer tomorrow or the next day. Then you will know. Until then, I see no point to constant guessing."

"I surprised them, did I not?" She smiled a bit at the memory.

"Yes, you did." His face softened a little. "You did very well."

"They thought I would have only rudimentary knowledge." Her chuckle was tinged with justifiable pride. "I read those Greek texts with ease, and that shocked them. I wish you had more time to teach me Latin."

"And I," he said.

For a short while there was silence between them, then she said, "I thank you for providing a dowry for me."

"It is my honor to do it," he responded with an elusive courtesy that was at once flattering and maddening.

"And you have done it only because you hold me in high regard," she said sharply.

"I have done it because you would find it difficult to live here-or anywhere-without a husband." He thought briefly of Olivia's long parade of fictitious husbands to make her widowhood acceptable, and added, "Think carefully, before you marry; find an ally, if you can."

"You say this because of your wives?" she asked, and put her hand to her mouth in dismay. "I did not mean...I spoke..."

"It is because I have no wife that I can tell you this." He waited until she managed to recover herself. "Consider what you seek, and find a husband who will seek the same thing for you. Otherwise, marriage will be as much a prison as a protection, and you will not thrive."

"You have decided on the man?" She stared at him, as if trying to determine if he meant what he said.

"Of course not; you are the best judge of what will suit you," he said. "I will not select the man. That is for you to do. If I were your father or your brother, I would still want you to choose-it is you who must live with the man, not I."

"Very generous," she said sarcastically.

He did not answer her for a moment, and when he did, his voice was low and gentle. "Why do you want to fight with me?"

She made a gesture of exasperation. "You are going away. You are my only protection in Toledom. Anything might happen."

"And you think it will be less frightening if you are angry," he finished for her.

"No. Not less frightening. Less...strange." She swung her arm to take in the whole study. "This is a wonderful place. Not as grand as Al Catraz, but more engaging. There is so much to do, so many things to learn. If you go, how can I know I will not have to leave?"

"For one thing, I have provided for you. For another, since the matchmaker is looking for a husband for you, you will have the protection of the Jewish quarter as well as the word of Idelfonzuz that you will not be required to leave this place." He did his best to smile, and for a brief moment achieved one. "I did not anticipate the King's orders, or I would have arranged matters differently. But there is no reason for you to fear. You have Ruthor to guard you and this house to live in; there is money enough to keep you, and the household, and to satisfy the tax collector, when he comes."

She shook her head. "But you will not be here."

"That is unfortunately true." He met her eyes, his compelling gaze holding hers as surely as if he clasped her hands. "If I were to refuse Idelfonzuz, then you would be in danger because of me. If I obey, you are safe."

"Does that matter to you?" she asked.

"Yes, it does," he answered.

She considered his reply. "Why?"

"Because you are a most remarkable young woman, and life has not treated you well." He rose from the stool. "But no, you cannot use my affection for you to keep me here."

"You are as bad as my father," she said, determined to hurt him for what he was about to do.

He accepted this condemnation without argument. "I hope I will not always seem so," he said as he went toward the door.

"Sometimes," she called after him, attempting to halt him, "sometimes I dream about you."

Germanno reached the door and turned back. "If they are pleasant dreams, what can I be but flattered."

"They are the best dreams I've ever had," she said, at once pleading and boasting.

"Then let them comfort you while I am gone," said Germanno, and left her alone in the study.

Ruthor was waiting in Germanno's apartments, putting together the last of the traveling gear in two large leather satchels; one contained clothes, the other had weapons and a small casket of medicaments. Catching sight of Germanno's face, he wisely remained silent until Germanno went to change to his short barbaresque riding cote of black leather. "I have put your native earth in all your soles, and in the lining of these cases; you may not be able to keep the chest of it with you."

Germanno gave him a knowing glance. "You are an excellent fellow, old friend."

"She does not want you to leave," Ruthor observed.

"Can you blame her? She has been abandoned by her father and uprooted from the only home she has ever known. Her future is uncertain, no matter what I hope to achieve for her; I would be unkind if I did not understand how much she has been forced to change, and the role I have played in it. Now I am going away to a place where there is fighting." He pulled on his estivaux, tapping the soles as he did. "Thank you for this."

"It was mine to be done. You will have to be careful with the supplies you have, for it will not last more than six months," Ruthor said.

"A pity I can no longer use my cache near Mont Calcius," he said, using the oldest name he knew for the village.

"If you could find Mont Calcius at all," said Ruthor. "There have been many landslides in that area, where the trees were taken." He put a massive roll of linen into the satchel with Germanno's clothes. "You may need this."

"So I might," Germanno agreed as he laced up his other estivaux. "I could wish it were cooler."

"It is July; it is heat or storms," said Ruthor, shrugging at the choice.

"The staff?" Germanno asked, referring to his courier's staff that was intended to give him safe passage through the fighting lines.

"I put it in a sheath on your saddle. You will not have to search for it." Ruthor began to buckle the satchel closed.

"You are not pleased that I am going, either, are you?" Germanno gave Ruthor time to answer.

"No, I am not. I cannot forget the years it took to find you at Leosan Fortress." He put the first satchel on the floor and began to buckle the second closed.

"This is hardly a similar case," Germanno pointed out. "I am not going on a sea voyage but a mission for the King."

"To the region of Holy Blood," Ruthor reminded him. "It is as dangerous as the ocean, in its way."

"Yes." Germanno frowned at his feet. "However, time has gone by. Who knows what I shall find there now."

"More vampires, if Chimena has had her way," said Ruthor bluntly.

"Perhaps," said Germanno as he picked up one of the satchels and started toward the door. "Will you see me off, or would you rather not."

Ruthor picked up the other satchel. "I should never have asked you to help me find my family, all those years ago. I should have left well enough alone."

Germanno stopped in the doorway. "By all the forgotten gods, Ruthor, you do not still hold yourself accountable for what happened then, do you?"

"It set things in motion-" he began, but would not go on.

"So did the Goths, so did the Moors, so did the Franks. You are not responsible for any of it," Germanno assured him.

"You would not have known Csimenae." He used the archaic form of her name deliberately.

"Very likely not," Germanno said at once. "But it was my decision to give her my blood to drink, not yours. And you did not tell her to bring others to this life; she came to that against our advice, as I recall."

"True enough," Ruthor allowed as he began to lead the way along the smaller gallery toward the stable yard. "I have selected the blue roans for you, and the two spotted jack-mules." He walked a little faster.

"Very well, we will not discuss it any longer," said Germanno, increasing his stride to match Ruthor's. "The blue roans, you say?" It was a much safer topic.

"Yes; the mare and the gelding. Same sire, different dam; the sire is that stallion Olivia provided when we came here. We have half a dozen of his get still in the stable, and another three more in foal to him. Of the two you will ride, the mare is the older by a year or two." Ruthor went on a short way, then added, "I'll say this for Spain: the horses are wonderful."

"That they are," Germanno agreed. "If not for the horses of Lusitania and Andalusia, the Romans would not have been as eager as they were to keep control of the central part of the peninsula; they would have contented themselves with the coasts and left the interior alone. But the horses were too good to ignore."

"Their shoes are new. You will not have to worry about that for another six to seven weeks." Ruthor opened the door for his master and together they walked out into the warm dusk.

"I am sure I shall find a smithy somewhere," said Germanno, and glanced toward the stable. "The spotted jack-mules: how old are they?"

"Six and seven, I believe," said Ruthor as they went into the stable, into the long broad aisle between the box-stalls. "They are all in the exercise arena."

"A good place for them," said Germanno, sounding a bit remote.

"They should be ready for you." He paused. "A few of the stable-hands have asked why you are leaving at night."

"Raises their suspicions, does it?" Germanno considered, then said, "The King has given me urgent orders-"

"That he has," Ruthor agreed.

"And I am eager to discharge them. Also, there are fewer eyes to see my leaving if I go at night, which serves the King's purpose, too." Germanno smiled. "Tell them that. It should be enough."

They had reached the exercise arena at the rear of the stable, and found, as Ruthor had promised, two blue roans, one saddled, the other haltered with a lead, and two spotted jack-mules, both their pack-saddles moderately laden. Grooms held the animals, and one of them said to Ruthor, for it was unacceptable for him to address Germanno directly, "They are ready. They have eaten and been watered. They are fresh and should go well into the night before they have to rest."

"You have done well," said Ruthor with a glance at Germanno. "These two satchels are to be secured to the master's saddle. Then you may have extra bacon with your evening bread and cheese."

The grooms all looked pleased and a bit embarrassed by so lavish a reward; one of them brought a stool for Germanno to use to get into the saddle; no simple task, for both the pommel and cantel were as high as his waist once he settled into it. Then they secured the satchels to the rings fixed in the back of the cantel and stepped back, saying to Ruthor, "All is ready."

"Then I am away," said Germanno, taking the leads of the mules and the horse, and starting them toward the door in the outer wall.

One of the stable-hands was there to open the door, and did so promptly, closing and barring it after Germanno had passed through.

The streets of Toledom were nearly empty; a few beggars and some monks were still about, and, as he neared the eastern gate in the city walls, Germanno encountered two small bands of roving soldiers, clearly out for adventure and mischief; only their recognition of Germanno's obvious position caused them to hesitate approaching him. The guards at the gate were surly, but did not argue with Germanno's courier's staff.

"God save King Idelfonzuz," said the guard as he opened the gate sufficiently to permit Germanno to leave.

"Amen," said Germanno, hearing the gate thud closed behind him. He started off into the night without looking back. He had elected to travel without lanthorns to light his way, for night did not trouble his eyes, and the mules did not need the extra illumination to find their way. It seemed to him that having lanthorns would only serve to mark his passage and alert those who might be his enemies to his location. So he went without any lamps, enjoying the anonymity this afforded him: he was a shape, a shadow passing, a sound among other sounds. Occasionally he looked up at the stars, scattered bits and clouds of light against the darkness. One day, he promised himself, he would take time to study the stars, not for omens, as so many others did, but to discern their nature. "Who better than a vampire to study the night sky?" he remarked to his horse as they went along the broad, dusty road that led to Zaraguza. By the time he stopped for the day, in an old Moorish way-station, now half-charred and deserted, he was more than seven leagues from Toledom, and a small, square fortress lay half a league ahead of him.

Late in the afternoon, he resumed his travels, passing the fortress before sunset so that no one would seek to halt him for the night. The road was in good repair as it rose toward the broad plateau that would take him east. There were signs of fighting in many places, from the absence of trees to the ruined houses and empty farms, many of which were black from fire. Even at night the air was hot, and when the wind blew it did not offer relief, as if to remind him that the calm of night was illusory at best.

On the third evening he come upon a group of wounded men, more than a dozen of them walking slowly in a group for protection and assistance; they were making their way toward the monastery to the north in the hope of finding a haven there, and monks to treat their injuries without holding them for ransom. Germanno paused long enough to give them some food and water, to find out where their battle had been, and to receive news of the Moors.

"You will have to bear northward a way if you want to avoid them completely," said the man who had clearly become their leader; he had a bandaged arm that smelled of infection and a cut on his face that would leave a bad scar.

"How far to the north?" Germanno asked.

"Two leagues should be enough. They are sending only raiding parties for now. Our forces have held the greater part of their soldiers at bay. They remember the Cid and they retreat." The man indicated the men with him. "We have lost three men since we started walking. There was nothing to be done but bury them."

"Was the battle very hard?" Germanno asked.

"It was fiercer than it was hard," said the leader. "The Moors fight like madmen. I was sure they would have a second force behind them, the way they came hurtling at us, lances and spears filling the air. But they were alone, without reserves. It took most of the morning, but we beat them back. We captured their captain and had his hands struck off so he could never again lift a weapon against a Christian."

Germanno said nothing: he was no stranger to these appalling acts, but he had lost his indifference to them more than two thousand years before. "The King will rejoice," he said at last, knowing it was true.

"That he will, as will all Christians." The leader motioned to the men behind him. "I hope the monks will not have so many wounded that they cannot take us."

"I have some medicaments," Germanno offered, ready to dismount and treat the most severely injured.

"No, no. You are a courier; your staff says so. You have far more important tasks to perform than tend to a handful of wounded men." He waved Germanno on.

"It would not take me long," Germanno said, hoping the man would accept his offer.

"Go. Idelfonzuz has entrusted you with his orders. You must not be distracted from your work. You may lose hundreds because you stopped to help fifteen." He walked a little faster, showing he was determined to have his little company on its way again. "Thank you for the water and the food. That was charity enough."

Germanno watched them go, thinking they would be lucky if half their number made it to the monastery alive. When he continued east, he bore to the north, in case the warning had been correct, and the fighting had spread again. The roads were narrower and less well-kept, but he made steady progress traveling by night and resting by day, and when he finally saw Zaraguza in the distance, he sighed with relief and allowed himself a night of hunting before entering the city, which he did shortly before sunset the following day. The city was larger than Germanno remembered it, and better fortified. It had spires built by Moors, and gardens; here and there some of the old Roman brickwork was still visible, but most of it had been lost in the last five hundred years. The markets had changed, being laid out on Moorish lines, and ancient churches, once in disrepair, now showed the start of fine new fronts to the people who flocked to them.

The Guard at the gate directed Germanno to the great house of Radulphuz of Sant Palampito, saying, "He commands here, no matter what anyone tells you."

"Of course," Germanno said, and handed the Guard a copper Ship for his trouble; he found the house readily enough, brought his horses and mules into the courtyard, and told the startled groom that he was here on the King's business.

"I will bring the maior domuz to speak to you," said the groom with properly averted eyes. He did not help the Comide to dismount, but hurried off, seeking a servant with more authority than he possessed.

By the time the maior domuz arrived, Germanno was out of the saddle, his courier's staff in hand, and his expression so neutral that no one could accuse him of rudeness. He raised his staff as the maior domuz approached, saying, "I trust you know what this means."

The maior domuz looked startled and put his hand to his forehead and then his heart in respect, a gesture borrowed from the Moors. "I know, and I revere it," he said to Germanno. "My master is at supper and ordinarily he would not allow an interruption, but he will receive you as his guest."

"That is not necessary; I have taken nourishment," said Germanno, waiting while the groom returned. "See they have grain and are rubbed down," he ordered. "The jenny is mouthy, so be careful around her."

"I will strike her nose-" the groom said, only to be stopped.

"You will not do anything to my animals but what I tell you to," Germanno said, his voice kindly and soft; the groom stood in terror. "You will use caution around my jenny. If you strike her, I will strike you."

The maior domuz looked shocked. "If you do not beat them, they will not submit to you," he said.

"Nonetheless, if anyone is to...beat my animals, it will be me. They have labored hard and have earned their keep handsomely, as any servant would." He gave the groom a long, hard stare. "Keep in mind what I say and you will be rewarded. Forget, and you will be punished."

The groom shook his head, and reached for the leads and reins to take the horse and mules away. He did not dare to speak again.

"If you will come with me," said the maior domuz, indicating a colonnaded gallery that led to the front of the house. "My master has brought his lieutenants here tonight, and dines with these men."

"May God bless them all," said Germanno, aware that every word he spoke would be heard and noted.

"May God bless them," echoed the maior domuz. "As your animals will have tribute for their efforts, so my master is thanking his subordinates. They have been holding the Moors in the hills beyond the river, and my master is moved to reward them."

"As a good commander will do," Germanno agreed, curious where this might be leading. He noticed four barred doors leading off of the gallery and asked himself what this might indicate.

"He entertains them, and praises them," said the maior domuz.

"Which is to his credit," said Germanno.

"Woe betide him who says otherwise," the maior domuz declared.

Germanno was still digesting this obscure warning when the maior domuz threw open the door to the main hall, revealing twenty or so men, all of them drunk, most of them naked, roistering amid the ruins of a banquet. Dogs and cats vied with one another to glean the fallen meats that littered the floor; half-a-dozen servants carried trays of cooked meats and new fruits to those still eating, and two musicians, at the far end of the hall, did their best to be heard against the general uproar.

From his place at the high table, Radulphuz of Sant Palampito watched his guests with bored, lascivious eyes; he was dawdling over his meal, keeping a handsome young page by his side to serve him. A man of middle years-perhaps as old as thirty-five-Radulphuz had the grizzled hair and scarred features of a field commander; his left hand lacked three fingers and there was a cicatrix along his shoulder where a Moorish scimitar had missed his neck by less than a hands-breadth. His surcote was of berry-colored velvet and he wore no cote beneath, allowing it to hang open from his neck to his knees. He looked up as the maior domuz escorted Germanno into the hall. Lazily he motioned the two to approach.

Germanno did as he was required to do: he made a deep reverence to Radulphuz, holding his courier's staff out to him. "In the name of Idelfonzuz of Aragon and Navarre, and guardian of Castile and Leon, I am Germanno, Comide Ragoczy."

The foreign name caught Radulphuz's attention. "A mercenary?" he asked in surprise.

"An exile," Germanno corrected courteously.

"I suppose there is a difference," said Radulphuz, whooping and pointing as two of his men began competitive masturbation; a few of the others stopped their various amusements to watch. Radulphuz waited a moment before looking back at Germanno. "And what am I to do for Idelfonzuz?"

"You are to provide me with all your latest information on the territory to the east of you currently in dispute," Germanno said.

"Ah," Radulphuz said, pulling his lower lip between his remaining thumb and finger. "So you are the one he is sending into that godfor-saken region."

"I am the one," said Germanno, a hint of wry humor in his voice.

"I do not envy you that mission; I would not authorize any of my men to undertake it. I cannot afford to lose any of them," said Radulphuz as he reached for his goblet and drank, signaling his page to refill it.

"It will be less hazardous if you will provide me with the information I will need when I am there," Germanno suggested firmly.

"Naturally," said Radulphuz. "I have no doubt that you are correct."

"Then you are minded to give me what I need?" Germanno asked, ignoring the howls and cries below him.

Radulphuz was staring at his men; he ran his tongue over his lips. Wholly preoccupied with what he was watching he said, "Yes. Yes. Come to me in the morning and I will provide you with all the information I can. I have a letter that you should see. If you cannot read, my clerk will read it for you."

Germanno was not surprised at this order. "I can read," he said. "Where will I find you in the morning?"

"My maior domuz will know," said Radulphuz, his gaze devouring the debauchery that was increasing; the naked men had begun plundering one another's bodies in a variety of ways, most of which would have got them burned at the stake if any Churchman had seen them.

"I will seek him out," said Germanno, preparing to rise and leave.

Abruptly Radulphuz turned and stared at him. "You are taking a great chance, going into those mountains."

"The Moors have many soldiers there, I know," said Germanno as if he were aware of no other danger.

"Moors are nothing. They say the Viexa Armoza lives there, with all her brood." He smiled unpleasantly. "Rather a hundred Moors than Ximene."

"Ximene?" Germanno said, fully alert now. He could not convince himself that the name was coincidental.

"They say the Viexa Armoza is called Ximene. Whatever her name, she is very dangerous," Radulphuz said, and glanced back at his men. "If one is to believe peasants, she, and her children, are vampires. The Moors call them night-demons." He laughed, but whether at the antics of his men or the notion of vampires or the Moors' name for them was impossible to discern.

Germanno considered his next question carefully. "How many of them are there: do you know?"

"Vampires?" Radulphuz shrugged, irritated at having to listen to Germanno any longer. "If the peasants are to be believed, there are hundreds of them." Saying that, he waved Germanno away and went back to staring at the orgy he had created.

Text of a letter from Gildoz, Knight of Usxa to Radulphuz of Sant Palampito at Zaraguza.

To the most excellent Radulphuz of Sant Palampito, commander of troops in Zaraguza and champion of Christians throughout Spain, the most respectful and devoted greetings of Gildaz, Knight of Usxa, with the heartfelt prayer that you may heed my words for the sake of our King and the Christ Who has bought our Salvation with His Blood.

In my years in this city, I have fought the Moors with the singularity of purpose that only faith can provide, and although I have sought neither riches nor advancement for my dedication, I have hoped that I might, at some point, provide crucial support to one such as you, who has given so much hope to those of us who have fought so long in our shared cause.

To that end, I have gathered such intelligence as may aid you in your battles. I send it to you in the care of the monk, Fre Benedictuz, who will vouch for its accuracy and truth, for he, too, has seen many things that will make your work here more true to our goal than if you came here fully unprepared. Fre Benedictuz is known as a pious man, and one who may be relied upon not to lead you or your forces astray, as so many others might, for the good of their own community, but the disadvantage of the King.

It is his report that the Moors have been burning the forests again. They say it is to rid the region of night-demons who are reputed to inhabit the area, but there are those who are not convinced that this is their only motive, for wherever there is burning, soldiers are exposed to a terrible death, and they lose the protection the forest affords them. Whether or not the charred bodies found afterward are Moors or Christians or night-demons, no one can say, although the Moors contend only their enemies are hurt in these exercises. I cannot be as sanguine as the Moors claim to be, for I know that each death brings damnation and perpetual fire to those who have not embraced their Salvation, and have died without the blessing of Christ's Church to protect them. Thus far the burnings have not been carried out in summer, for the heat of the day and the aridness of the mountains could well cause the fires to burn beyond the limits the Moors have set. It is hard enough when summer lightning sets the mountains ablaze, as has happened many times before. However, the Moors are increasingly desperate and therefore are not willing to show any caution for fear it will lead to greater losses among their numbers.

It is my own belief that the Moors would embrace any excuse to harm Christians, including martyring them with fire. I am certain that if they can claim fear of night-demons they will do so and they will scorch the earth from the Eberoz to the heart of Aragon, for the chance to rid themselves of any centers of resistance that might have escaped their vengeance until now. I am fearful that there may be losses of an intolerable nature if the Moors are allowed to do as they wish. In Usxa we see every day the extent of the Moors' determination not to release their hold on this region. I pray that they will not be so adamant in their efforts that all any of us will have in the end is burned forests and barren hills, but in spite of hours on my knees, I find all my hope is fading with every day that passes without the warriors of Christ driving back the Moors.

Nor is destroying the forests the end of their perfidy. In this city, we see young men taken as slaves every day; their fate is in the hands of our enemies, and all of us know that these young men will not return here. For this alone I ask that you bring your soldiers soon, so that these young men are not lost to Christ through the cruelty of His enemies. As I yearn for Christ, I beg you to come soon, while there is a city to rescue and lands to hold for more than a graveyard.

In the fullness of devotion, and with an esteem for you that is offered for no man on earth, save King Idelfonzuz, and with my continuing prayers for succor, I sign myself.

Gildaz, Knight of Usxa

Son of Bauthizta, cousin of Adelfonzuz of Leon and Castile

By the hand of Fre Patrizoz

At Usxa on the 1st day of July in the 1117th of Grace. Amen.