Night Blooming (45 page)

“The Bellatore Notrold is likely to try to force his authority, and take the place of the leader, a fellow named Einshere, who keeps to himself, or tries not to argue with Notrold; I don’t know which,” said Rorthger “Einshere is probably trustworthy, but he isn’t of an emphatic disposition. Notrold has the inclinations of a tyrant, and though Einshere is the leader, he isn’t inclined to stop him. The men are not much minded to oppose him, though they may be pushed too far by Notrold’s despotism. Einshere isn’t apt to insist on, any change in behavior.”

“I shall keep that in mind.” Rakoczy took a small leather bag and counted fourteen gems into it. “The rest will stay here with you,” he said to Rorthger. “Keep them where Waifar cannot find them, in case he returns for another harvest.”

“Do you suppose he will?” Rorthger asked. “I would have thought he would flee.”

“Perhaps,” said Rakoczy. “But if he has kinsmen here, he may prefer to remain with them than to forge his way alone.”

“It’s possible,” said Rorthger dubiously.

“If I am wrong, where is the harm in being prepared? Nothing will be wasted, no matter what Waifar may do, wouldn’t you concur?” Rakoczy asked gently. “Think, old friend. I will be gone for many months, and that may lead-some to believe that this place is undefended, which you and I know is not the case, but those who have lived here for generations may not comprehend. It is fitting that you should be prepared to deal with any number of impositions.”

“All right. I’ll put the jewels in an unlikely place for safekeeping.” He scooped them up and dropped them into his wallet. “For the time being, I’ll keep them here.”

“Very good. Make sure, if you must sell them, to offer them to the King first, and then to the local Bishop Karl-lo-Magne may not want them, but he would want to have the opportunity to purchase them ahead of all others.” He touched the tips of his fingers together. “With his coronation coming, he may want to array himself for the occasion. Sheepskin is all very well for hunting bison, but it will hardly do for a celebration at Sant’ Pier’s.”

“Truly,” said Rorthger, and patted the wallet. “I will tell the mansionarii to refuse Waifar access to the villa.”

“Do so,” Rakoczy said, “but remember that we are the foreigners here and we need not be obeyed as those who have been here for generation upon generation.”

“Do you mean you think someone may let Waifar into the villa against specific orders? That is a very dangerous thing to do. A servant’s betrayal of a master is punishable by execution.” Rorthger nodded before Rakoczy spoke. “Of course that could happen in spite of the possible consequences, if there are familial reasons. You’re right, my master. I will keep that upper-most in my thoughts.”

Rakoczy looked around his upper room, at the various vessels and measuring devices, at gleaming basins of gold and beakers of glass, at his athanor. “I don’t like having to leave,” he admitted.

“You could tell the King you are unable to travel. Say you were warned in a dream not to go beyond your fiscs until autumn.” Rorthger wasn’t entirely serious, but there was a suggestion of sincere purpose in what he said. “Great Karl puts much stock in dreams.”

“Yes, he does,” Rakoczy agreed. “But if I refuse him this, he may not trust me again, and that would be far more perilous than going to Roma. Karl-lo-Magne is a loyal friend—when he believes he has the fealty of his ally. When he suspects, or imagines, falseness, he is quick to requite the wrong. If I were his kin, he might allow me some leeway, but as I am not even a Frank…” Shrugging, he reached for a silver pectoral chain studded with rubies and clasped by an ornament in the shape of his eclipse device; he put this into a silken bag and put it into the saddle-pack that lay on the floor at his feet. “I will send your word along the way, so that you needn’t be left to wonder what has become of me.”

“How will you get your messages back to me? You dare not give them to the missi dominici; Great Karl would not approve of it,” said Rorthger.

“No, he would not,” said Rakoczy. “But I can engage Fratri who are going to shrines and monasteries, to carry a letter for me. If I make a donation to the monastery, and give the Fratre a small token to aid him in his travels, you will receive my letters safely enough.”

“If that is acceptable to you, I will receive every monk who comes this way,” said Rorthger, a trace of amusement in his tone. “The Abbott at Sant’ Cyricus may not approve.”

“Why would he not?” Rakoczy asked, puzzled.

“He is a man who knows his own importance,” said Rorthger. “Abbott Hroccolf will feel slighted if I do not send some of the peregrines to him. He may even hold it against the fiscs, which I will have to address somehow. I may provide him with more bread; that should lessen his affront.”

Rakoczy nodded once. “Yes. You’re right.” He set two pair of Persian boots aside. “These will go in with my clothing in the saddle-pack.”

“Do you suppose your goods will be gone through?” Rorthger asked.

“It’s possible. It may be also that we will be robbed or our goods seized.” Rakoczy gave Rorthger a long, steady look. “You know that as well as I.”

“But it seems you don’t trust your escort, either,” said Rorthger.

“No I don’t,” said Rakoczy.

Rorthger shook his head in exasperation. “Allright I won’t question you any more, but you mustn’t reprehend me for having misgivings about this whole venture.”

“I would not do that, old friend,” said Rakoczy with an elusive smile.

“Will you send for me if you decide not to return to Franksland when your stay in Roma is over?” He asked in the language of western China, afraid they might be overheard.

Rakoczy answered in the same tongue. “Of course. I don’t want you to have to search half of Europe to find me.” He finished loading his saddle-pack. “This is ready, and my sack of medicaments. They should go on my saddle. The rest should be carried by the mules; four for pack and one to draw the Pale Woman’s wagon. I’ll want eight changes of horses—one for each of us—so that we’ll not be stranded if something happens to any of our mounts. Get the long leads, so the remounts can be ponied.”

“Of course,” said Rorthger. “And I’ll supervise the loading of food and drink on the second mule.”

“Very good,” Rakoczy said, and prepared to leave his upper room. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“As much as your house in Spain?” Rorthger said.

“They aren’t comparable,” said Rakoczy. “The Spanish house is lost to me for now and I may never see it again; this villa is still mine, or as much mine as the King will allow.” He went to a chest near the stairs and retrieved two swords and a dagger. “I wish I had one of those little throwing axes the Franks use: the francisca. Perhaps when I return I’ll make a few of them.”

“What will Great Karl think?” Rorthger was doing his best to make light of the matter.

“If I approach him properly, he may well be flattered,” Rakoczy said seriously. “Remember that Chian Dju?”

Rorthger nodded, his visage more austere than ever. “He wanted to kill you for using his weapons.”

“It may be that Karl-lo-Magne is very like Chian Dju, afraid that a weapon will change its loyalty if used by another.” Rakoczy picked up his saddle-packs and handed them to Rorthger. “If you will tend to these?”

Rorthger took the two packs. “Do you want to carry your medicaments yourself?”

“It might be wiser that I do it,” said Rakoczy, slinging the strap over his shoulder. “It’s prudent to let the soldiers see this and know what it is.”

Rorthger held open the door so Rakoczy could leave the upper room. “Shall I lock this room, my master?”

“No, it would only inspire the mansionarii to try to get into it. Close it, and be sure to check it once a day,” Rakoczy said as he stepped onto the stairs. “Have the soldiers gone to rest? I would rather not encounter them until after comestus,” said Rakoczy, descending the narrow flight two steps ahead of Rorthger.

“Do you think they’ll find that odd?” Rorthger asked.

“They may; but I want them to get used to the notion that I won’t eat with them. If I keep away during their meals here, they won’t be too surprised when I … dine in private while we’re traveling.” He reached the floor below. “Are they in the cubicula along the gallery?”

“Yes, they are.” Rorthger came down beside him. “I’m going to the stable. Where will you be?”

“In my study; I plan to keep a record of our travels for Karl-lo-Magne’s itineraries. They have descriptions of the roads into Roma, but if I can show them very accurate accounts of what they know, they may be more willing to accept my representations of places they don’t know.” Rakoczy glanced toward the gallery. “I don’t expect that any of the soldiers will want to see my study.”

“Very likely not,” said Rorthger, and moved toward the second flight of stairs that led down to the ground floor. “I will tell the soldiers you are still busy if they ask where you are at comestus.”

“Thank you.” When he reached his study, Rakoczy slipped inside and shut the door behind him. He did not bother to strike flint-and-steel to light the oil-lamps; he saw well enough in the gloom. Going to his chest of books, he opened a drawer in the bottom of the cabinet and pulled out eight sheets of parchment; he rolled these tightly, then went to get an ink-cake, which he put into a small sandalwood box. These he put in the sack with his medicaments, reminding himself quills could be found on his travels, and water. Then he took down a book from the shelves and opened it; the text was in Latinized Greek, a compendium from the time of Nerva of wild plants of the Italian peninsula and their virtues. Finding his leather-upholstered Moorish chair, he dropped into it and began to read. Only when he heard the bell for the end of Vespers at Sant’ Cyricus did he close the volume once again and return it to its place on the shelf before leaving his study for the dining hall and his first meeting with the soldiers who would escort him to Roma.

T
EXT OF A LETTER FROM
B
ISHOP
B
ERAHTRAM TO
A
RCHBISHOP
R
EGINHALT OF
V
IENNE, CARRIED BY
C
HURCH MESSENGER AND DELIVERED FIVE WEEKS AFTER BEING DISPATCHED.

To the most exalted Archbishop of Vienne, Reginhalt, son of the late Bishop Childeric of Osnabruk, the greetings and prayerful devotion of Bishop Berahtram on the eve of his departure for Sant’ Yrieix and its related See, on the Feast of the Martyr, Sabas the Goth in the Pope’s year 800.

Primore, I make bold to send this to you in the hope it will lead you to be willing to hear me when I am in need of council and blessing in my new post. I have been a Fratre for twelve yars, and I know that ever since his Holiness, Pope Leo III, elevated me to my new position, I have wondered if I am deserving of such an advancement, and I have prayed for guidance, that I may serve God and the Church in the capacity I have been given in a manner that would add to the prestige of the Saints.

If you will consider being willing to instruct and guide me, I will enter my duties with far more certitude than I have found within myself thus far. You have had many years of experience and you know the region to which I am sent far better than I do. If only you are willing to impart your wisdom, I know I shall be able to perform as the Pope bade me.

I am also moved to tell you of a certain rumor that has reached my ears and caused me much dismay: it is said that the healing I have been allowed by God to impart to Bellatori and religious alike was not a sign of Heavenly Favor, but the result of unguents and other medicaments provided me by the foreigner Rakoczy. There are those who claim that this foreigner has knowledge of medicinals that none of our physicians—Christian or Jew—can claim, and that it is those medicaments that have brought healing to the wounded. I am loath to call any man liar, but we will all answer before God for our lives, and this troubles me more than I can say. I have no wish to attack the reputation of this foreigner, for he has Great Karlus’ confidence, and it would not be a Christian deed to cause trouble for the King. Yet I am appalled that many people believe it. Fratre Lothar, whose hand was shattered when he was still a Bellatore, will testify to my work among the injured, but I fear to ask him to do so, in that it could lead to the kind of animosity that could lead to bloodshed, a result that would smirch my reputation.

You are more experienced in these matters; I know you can recommend how I might best conduct myself in this situation, not only for the honor of the Church, but to preserve my own. I have no desire to detract from another man’s virtues, so long as they are his to own. But I cannot remain silent while there are lies and boasts made that take Glory from God, Who has done the work of saving these men through His Mercy imparted through my undeserving hands. You will know the repercussion I may expect if I should dispute this calumny, and what may result from my silence. I will most gratefully accept any advice you can give me, and I promise you, I will praise you for your sapience to the world, or as much of it as I am able to reach.

Great Primore, you know, far better than I, that the Church is always in danger from without and within. I have sworn to advance our faith, and I will do my utmost to fulfill my oath, but I also know it is not for all men to champion God; I must find my way, and I ask you to be willing to shepherd me to the true path of Christ if I should wander from it As we both are servants before God, I implore your aid in shouldering the burden the Pope has put upon me in the Name of Christ, Who has borne the sins of the world, and Who is Glorious and Merciful to all men.

Amen

Bishop Berahtram

of Sant’ Yrieix, Sant’ Damasus, Sant’ Ianuarius,

Cometou Gudi, and Lacosasse

Chapter Three

R
AIN WISPED DOWN FROM TATTERED CLOUDS
, cloaking all the town clustered around the walls of the Royal Residence of Attigny in a moist embrace. The day was cool, but windless, so there was no edge in the chill, and the party that left through the main gate wore leather capae with hoods up, not the heavier mantella reserved for penetrating cold. There was little activity in the town, most of the people remaining indoors; only a gang of Wendish slaves were working on restoring a roof of a weavery, and they paid no attention as the eight mounted men, eight horses on leads, four laden pack-mules, also on leads, and the mule-drawn plausterum clattered by in the slate-paved street below them.