DemonWars Saga Volume 1 (206 page)

"What nonsense do you spout?" Crump retorted.

"Does not true meaning come from that which is holy?" De'Unnero asked.

The guard from the courtyard rushed in then, and ran right by De'Unnero and his entourage, up to his master, whispering —the identity of the intruder, the Bishop knew.

"My lord," Crump said a moment later, offering a bow. "You should have warned me of your visit, that I might have properly —"

"Hidden your gemstones?" De'Unnero finished.

Aloysius Crump nearly choked on that choice of words. He was a strong man, a fighter who had forged his business in the toughest regions of the Timberlands and the Wilderlands. Once he had been a trapper, but then he learned how much more money he could make as a middleman for the other trappers and the markets in Palmaris and the more civilized lands.

"I have already answered the questions of your Church," Crump insisted.

"Words," De'Unnero said quietly, waving his arm. "What useful tools these words be. Words for meaning, words for lies."

Crump's face screwed up at this confusing response. He was not the most articulate man, but it was clear to him that he was being mocked. His huge fists balled up at his sides.

But then, without warning, De'Unnero closed the five feet between them in the blink of an eye and drove the point of his index finger under the man's jaw. "I was here last night, fool Crump," he snarled into the man's face.

Crump reached up and grabbed De'Unnero's wrist, but found that moving the stabbing finger was no easy task.

"Words," the Bishop said again. " 'Prithee know that these stones, fallen to the ground of sacred Pimaninicuit, be the gifts of the one true God for those of his chosen flock.' Do you know those words, merchant Crump?" He gave a shove with his finger, and Crump staggered back a couple of steps.

"They are from the Book of Abelle, the Psalm of Gems," De'Unnero explained. " 'And God thus did give knowledge to his chosen, that the stones be used to advantage, and all the world rejoiced, for they saw that this was good.' " The Bishop paused long enough to take note that the man's fists were now unclenched.

"Do you know those words? " he asked Crump.

The man shook his head.

"Brother Jollenue?" De'Unnero asked.

"The Book of Deeds," the young monk said, "penned by Brother Yensis in the fifth year of the Church."

"Words!" De'Unnero yelled into Crump's hairy face. "The words of the Church ... of
your
Church! Yet you believe that you understand them better than those who administer the word of God."

Crump was shaking his head now, obviously confused and intimidated.

"My edict was clear," De'Unnero explained. "No, not mine, but in fact the words of Father Abbot Markwart himself. Ownership of the enchanted gemstones by anyone outside the Church is forbidden by Church doctrine."

"Even if it was the Church who sold —"

"Forbidden!" De'Unnero roared. "Without exception. You were told this, Master Crump, and yet you did not turn over those stones you possess."

"I have no —"

"Those stones you possess," De'Unnero cut back in with that feral growl behind every word. "I was here last night," he said. "I felt the magic in use. Your denial means nothing to me, because I saw the magic."

For a long moment, the two teetered on the edge of disaster; no one there could decide if Crump would attack the Bishop. The big, proud man didn't blink, but neither did De'Unnero, his steely gaze inviting a fight.

"I could burn your house to the ground and sift through the ashes," De'Unnero promised.

Aloysius Crump licked his lips.

"If you do not cooperate, you will be branded a heretic," De'Unnero promised.

"You have no right to come into my house," the man said deliberately. "I was a personal friend of Baron Rochefort Bildeborough."

"Who is dead," De'Unnero said with a chuckle —one not appreciated by the soldiers standing behind him.

Again the two stood staring hard at each other. Then the tension broke, as Crump turned and nodded to his personal guard. The man looked at him skeptically.

"Go!" Crump yelled, and the man ran off.

"A wise choice, Master Crump," Brother Jollenue started to say, but the Bishop silenced him with a stern glare.

The guard returned a few moments later, bearing a small silk purse. He handed it to Crump, who tossed it at De'Unnero. The Bishop's hand snapped up to pull it from the air, and without taking his stare from Crump, he handed it to Jollenue. "I trust that you would not be so foolish as to make me or one of my emissaries take a third trip out here," he said.

Crump glared at him.

"Do tell me, good merchant," De'Unnero went on, his entire demeanor changing abruptly, "what stone did you use last night? "

The man shrugged impatiently. "No stone," he said gruffly. "I do not know."

"Ah, but it seems as if you found a bit of fighting last night," De'Unnero remarked, pointing to the man's scab.

"I find fighting many nights," Crump replied, trying hard to keep his voice level as De'Unnero reached back and motioned for the purse. "Keeps me strong for the journeys north."

De'Unnero opened the purse and emptied the gems —an amber, a diamond, a cat's-eye agate, and a pair of tiny celestites—into his hand. He looked at them curiously for a moment, then looked again, suspiciously, at Crump's neck. "If there are any others, your life is forfeit," he stated clearly, drawing a gasp from the soldiers behind him and from Crump's guard, as well.

"You asked for my gemstones —stones I bought fairly—and so I gave them to you," Crump replied. "Do you imply that I am not an honorable man?"

"I imply nothing," the Bishop answered without hesitation. "I call you a liar openly."

Predictably, Crump came forward in a rush, but De'Unnero spun around and kicked the man, sending him staggering backward into the arms of his surprised guard.

De'Unnero stuffed the purse and gems into a pocket of his robe, then turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, his men following closely. They got to the street, but there the Bishop stopped suddenly.

"Have we more business in this district this day?" Brother Jollenue dared to ask after several long minutes slipped by.

"Do you not understand?" De'Unnero replied. "Master Crump has lied to us."

"And are we to search his house?" asked one soldier.

"The ruins of it," De'Unnero retorted, and every one of them knew he was not joking. "But perhaps it will not come to that." De'Unnero honestly believed that statement, for the perceptive man had learned much more than Aloysius Crump had intended to tell him. The man had been in a fight that previous night —that much was obvious from the wound on his neck. And it was equally obvious to De'Unnero that the wound had been treated with either powerful herbs or with magic. A soul stone would have left no sign of a wound, for it would not have taken much magical energy to heal such a minor cut as that.

So perhaps it was an herbal concoction. Perhaps.

"Follow," De'Unnero instructed, starting back for the house and producing a garnet from another pocket in his robe. "And learn." The Bishop stopped in front of the gate —which a servant had closed once more—pausing just long enough to concentrate on the garnet and to let a smile spread across his face. Before his companions had even caught up to him, De'Unnero was over the wall, and this time, he did not bother to throw open the gate behind him.

He sprinted across the courtyard, ignoring the cries from the guard, who was back outside. Right up to the doors and through them went the Bishop, and there, in the foyer, stood a very surprised Aloysius Crump, flanked by several female house servants, all fretting over the wound De'Unnero had given him —a wound already on the mend, the Bishop noted.

De'Unnero stood perfectly still and took a deep draft of air. No scent, no indication of any herbs. The Bishop did not need to go back to his garnet to figure out his riddle, for he was no novice to the games merchants often played with the sacred stones.

"Remove your boots," he ordered Crump.

The man furrowed his brow. "In the company of ladies?" he asked sarcastically. He raised one eyebrow slightly as he glanced over De'Unnero's shoulder.

Few would have caught the clue, but for De'Unnero, it sounded as clearly as one of St. Precious' massive bells. He spun around, registering the movement of the approaching guard's extended sword, and slashed his arm against the side of the blade. The edge cut the sleeve of his robe and drew a line of blood on De'Unnero's forearm. Now he had the guard off guard. De'Unnero's hand snapped out, wrapping the guard's sword hand. The Bishop jerked his arm back, then drove his shoulder into the man's chest.

He could have rained blows upon the guard's face and chest then, but De'Unnero's focus remained on that sword hand. He grabbed the guard by the wrist with his other hand, then bent the guard's hand, overextending his wrist. De'Unnero felt the man's grip weaken and timed his release perfectly so that he caught the weapon by the hilt. A deft twist of his wrist, a step away, then a lunge, drove the guard's sword deep into his belly.

A shove sent the dying man sprawling to the floor, and the Bishop let go of the sword hilt and turned back to face Crump, who had barely moved.

De'Unnero was laughing now. He heard his companions bumble into the foyer behind him, but he held up his hand to keep them at bay.

"But, my lord," Brother Jollenue protested. More than one of the soldiers gasped at the sight of the groaning man on the floor, his blood pooling out around him.

"This lesson is mine to teach!" De'Unnero growled, his tone, as cold as death, silencing the younger monk.

"I will ask you again," De'Unnero said to Crump, "in deference to your position. Remove your boots."

"Murdering dog!" the merchant replied, rushing to the wall behind him and pulling free an old boar spear mounted there. " 'Tis your own boots they'll be pulling from your stinking feet, so as not to waste so fine a pair on a worthless corpse!"

"Bishop De'Unnero," one of the city guardsmen said.

"Hold your ground!" De'Unnero shouted at his companions. "I am the teacher, and Crump the student."

"Go and take back his sword," Crump offered, pointing his spear —a nasty, black metal affair with a second hooked blade just below the head to prevent an impaled animal from sliding down the shaft. "Never let it be said that Aloysius Crump killed an unarmed man."

De'Unnero laughed. "Unarmed?" he echoed. "It would seem that your soldier made the same mistake."

Crump lowered the spear and came forward a cautious step, showing the dangerous bishop due respect. He waved the spear slowly back and forth, showing complete control of its movements, as if to prove that the Bishop could not slip by its deadly point as he had the guard's sword.

De'Unnero started forward suddenly, then retreated quickly two steps as Crump let out a howl and stabbed hard. His spear fell short, and the angry merchant charged ahead, stabbing again for De'Unnero's head.

Down squatted the Bishop, turning and rolling to get far from the blade. Thinking the advantage his, Crump pursued, thrusting again.

De'Unnero twisted fast to the side, slapping his forearm against the spear, half deflecting the blow. Crump was fast, though, and strong enough to reverse the momentum in the blink of an astonished eye. He let the spear fly out.

De'Unnero hardly seemed to move from the waist up; his legs bent under him so efficiently that the swishing blade passed beneath his feet before Crump or any of the onlookers realized that he had dodged. When he finally did understand his obvious vulnerability, Crump gave a yell and backpedaled desperately. To the merchant's surprise, the Bishop did not leap inside the reach of his weapon but rather stood gingerly on one leg, wincing as if he had injured himself.

Another yell, this one of victory and not of fear, and Crump skidded to a stop and leaped ahead once more, his spear driving fast for the apparently vulnerable Bishop.

De'Unnero doubled over as the spear came in; behind him, Brother Jollenue screamed, thinking him impaled.

But the tip never dug in. De'Unnero somersaulted right over the thrusting weapon. He drove his hand down, pushing the spear lower and clasping the haft. Then he used Crump's forward momentum, kicking both feet out, one of his heels smashing the merchant in the face, the other hammering into Crump's chest.

Crump simply stopped cold, and his arms fell to his sides. The spear would have fallen to the floor, except that De'Unnero now held it fast. Agile and acrobatic, the Bishop came off Crump as cleanly as if he had leaped against a wall, turning and twisting to land gracefully on his feet at the same time that the dazed Crump crashed to his knees.

De'Unnero tossed the spear aside. He grabbed Crump's hair, jerking his head back, exposing his neck, stiffened fingers of his other hand ready to strike. He could have put his fingers right through that neck, but his better judgment made him merely leave Crump gasping for air but very much alive.

De'Unnero looked around at the spectators, savoring the victory. Then he placed his foot on Crump's shoulder and unceremoniously kicked the man to the floor. He went and knelt over the man.

"I told you not to make me return," he said to the still-gasping merchant. "What clearer warning might I have given? Ah yes, but they are just
words."

De'Unnero moved down and reached for Crump's boot, but the ever-stubborn merchant kicked at him. Up went the Bishop to his feet, slamming his foot right into the merchant's groin.

Crump howled and doubled up in agony.

"If you kick at me again, I will castrate you, here and now," De'Unnero calmly promised. Crump offered no resistance as the Bishop pulled off his boots. There, on the second toe of Crump's left foot, was the item the Bishop had suspected, a gold ring set with a small hematite.