The Warlock Heretical (10 page)

"Even as thou dost say."

"Mama is closest," Cordelia noted.

Rod had just hit his critical level for pomposity. The deadly self-seriousness of the Abbot, and the somberness of

Tuan's reaction, overloaded his capacity for sympathy and flipped him into a healthy state of detached amusement. He realized he'd hit threshold when he found himself thinking that Catharine was the only one

involved who wasn't overreacting.

Which included himself, of course. With a sardonic chuckle he slipped through the branches of the last trees on

the slope and stepped up to the bald top of the low mountain. "You don't really need to be clear of the underbrush, you know, Fess."

"True, Rod," his horse replied, "but I diagnosed your condition as being critical, and believed you should step

aside from human company for a minute."

"Damn straight I'm critical! There isn't a one of them that's being even halfway reasonable about all this!

Even

Catharine gets angry every time she thinks of being crossed."

Page 69

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Tuan is maintaining his composure," Fess contradicted. "Though I do detect a tendency toward melancholy

which is wholly unlike him."

Rod shrugged. "What do you expect? Anybody can burn out—and if Tuan isn't in a high-stress job, I don't know

who is."

"He has never before shown signs of weakening."

"Yeah, but he wasn't finding the basic assumptions of his spiritual worldview being questioned. I'd say our good

King is approaching the first genuine spiritual crisis of his life—and he might come out the better for it."

"He could also do grave damage while he's in its throes. We must watch him closely, Rod."

"A good point." Rod pursed his lips. "I'll tip Brom to have Puck keep an eye on him."

"How will that aid? . . . Oh."

"Right." Rod nodded. "The hobgoblin has a certain healthy skepticism about all religions; he thinks they're

humorous. If he can't help Tuan keep his perspective, nobody can."

"I would say Catharine is more in need of such distancing, Rod."

"Why, because she doesn't think she can second-guess the Abbot any more?" Rod shrugged. "Common sense

reaction, I'd say."

"Odd, for her."

"She's growing up—there's something about having kids that does mat to a girl. Of course, she doesn't know why

His Grace changed his mind on the verge of that battle years ago; all she knows is that the monk who was with

me ran over and talked to him."

"True—and, of course, she had no way of knowing that Father Al was from Terra."

"With a letter from the Pope enjoining all clergy to do what he said. No, she didn't know that, and I'm not about

Page 70

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

to tell her. It would shake her self-confidence too badly."

"Not to mention the doubts it would create about your sanity." Fess emitted the burst of static that passed for a

robotic sigh. "Nonetheless, the Abbot had absolutely no difficulty accepting Father Al's letter as genuine."

"And accordingly obeyed the Pope's emissary, and made peace quickly. But apparently he found it very humiliating, and has been just aching for an excuse to ignore Rome and get back to trying to take over Gramarye."

"It would seem so. Therefore, our problem is discerning who gave him that excuse."

"An excellent question. Not that's he's dim-witted or anything, but his intelligence doesn't really take a theological bent. No, some futurian agent fed him his rationalization— whereupon, with great delight, he rejected

Rome. But the Cathodeans here don't have hyper-radio, so he couldn't let Rome know about it."

"An oversight which you, no doubt, will generously rectify for him," Fess murmured.

"I always did like to help the clergy in little ways. Got the whole story encoded, Fess?"

"Ready to transmit, Rod. Do you wish to add a personal message?"

"Yeah. Tell Father Al that I said the Pope had better find some way to kick the wolf out of his fold before it leads

his sheep to the slaughter."

Fess's head swiveled to gaze directly into Rod's eyes. "Just send it," Rod urged.

"You could at least mix your metaphors clearly," Fess sighed. "Very well, Rod." He didn't move; he didn't have to. The section of his metal body that faced toward Terra suddenly became an

antenna for the warp transmitter buried inside him, shooting an elongated beep at the sky. "Transmission completed."

Rod nodded, satisfied. " 'Fraid we can't wait around for Brother Al's answer, though. It'll take them a few hours

to locate him, and of course he'll need to confer with His Holiness. Wonder what they'll do about it?"
Page 71

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"I trust they will let us know."

* * *

"Why, how is this?" Brother Alfonso's voice sizzled with anger. "How canst thou have failed! There were two of

thee for every one of them! Thou hadst but to fall upon them, knock them senseless, and bear them home!" He

fell silent, eyes narrowed, glaring at Father Thorn. Then, just as the monk started to answer, Brother Alfonso

snapped, "Thy bravery failed thee."

Father Thorn's jaw firmed. "Say, rather, that we were loathe to strike at brothers."

"They are brothers no longer, but traitors! Aye, yet traitors who spoke thee fair and welcomed thee with open

arms and laden tables, did they not?"

"They greeted us with joy," Father Thorn acknowledged, "and we did break bread with them. Yet when we

sought to convince them of the error of their ways, they were obdurate."

"Then couldst thou not have fallen upon them?"

"We did, to our shame." Father Thorn lowered his head, shoulders hunching. "For look you, we are men of faith,

not of arms!"

"Yet I bade thee bring them back by fair means or foul! Thou assured me thou wouldst, for all in this land would

fare better if clergy ruled! Thou wert two to their one, and thou hadst set upon them! Couldst thou not defeat

them?"

"Nay, for they bore arms, even as we did, and had learned the use of them betimes."

"Thou knowest their use also! Could each of them fight as well as two of thee?"

"For a short space," Father Thorn admitted. "Ere we could prevail, a bailiff burst upon us with a band of soldiers."

Page 72

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"So!" Brother Alfonso's eyes widened. "How chanced they to be nearby?"

"I have no knowledge," Father Thorn answered, and the other would-be bandits muttered to one another behind

him, suddenly apprehensive.

"There are several ways to it," Brother Alfonso snapped, "yet they all come to this: that the King hath knowledge

of our actions!" He scanned the appalled monks with a gimlet glare. "How could that chance? Why, in that one or

more of thee have failed to ward thy thoughts from reading!"

"Or ..." Father Thorn swallowed, unable to form the words. Brother Alfonso nodded, stony-faced. "Or that one of our

number is a spy. What, brothers! Tis bad enough that the King might know our actions—yet what will chance if

our good Abbot learns of them?"

The monks exchanged appalled glances. " 'Twould be hard fasting and long prayers alone, at the least," one

whispered.

"Or that, and a scourging and defrocking," Brother Alfonso snarled. The monks fell silent, staring, appalled at the thought of being cast out of the monastery, and out of the Order.

Brother Alfonso nodded, narrow-eyed, looking at each of them in turn. "That, or worse. Therefore, brothers, be

certain to speak of this fool's errand to no one—and to watch one another closely, to be sure no other doth." His

voice fell ominously. "And be certain to obey mine orders henceforth." They stared at him, shocked. Then Father Thorn summoned up nerve to scowl and say, "Thou canst not afright us

thus! Thou canst not say what we have done without casting blame on thyself also!"

"Be not so sure," Brother Alfonso ground out.

Page 73

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Father Thorn blanched, but went on with determination. "What thou hast said would hap to us, would hap also to

thee."

"Aye," Brother Alfonso snapped, "and therein lies my concern. Be sure, brothers—whosoe'er shall bear the

blame for this night's work, I am determined 'twill not be myself! Ward each other well, and heed my commands!"

Rod had made his way home after sending his message. So he was sitting by as though he were waiting, when

the children crashed through the door as though it were a purely theoretical construct. "Papa! Papa!"

"Mama!

Mama!" "Pama! Mapa!"

"Hold it!" Rod called, regretfully shelving some remarkably scurrilous plans he'd been entertaining. Silence bloomed.

"Now." Rod exhaled sharply. "What's the crisis?"

" 'Tis a nasty sneak!"

" 'Tis a loathsome spy!"

" 'Tis a renegade 'gainst all the witches!"

That caught Rod's attention. "Hold it! Let's have a little sense, here." He pointed at Magnus. "What happened?"

"Cordelia felt the faintest touch of a thought-hearer listening and hoping none would remark him, Papa."

Fury lit, and Rod opened his mouth for an outburst, almost beside himself, but Gwen was beside himself, too,

and managed to speak before he could get started. "How couldst thou know that, Cordelia?"

"We were playing, Mama, and of a sudden I felt the faintest hint of a presence, like the gossamer of abandoned

spider webs, breeze—tossed. I stilled, and hearkened, and could just be certain 'twas still there—not thinking, nor

Page 74

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

giving out of any thoughts, but hearkening even as I hearkened." Gwen nodded. " 'Twas one who listened, then. But thou knowest this could have been naught but the phantasm of

thine own mind." Cordelia was just beginning to hit the unstable age.

"Yet we all heard it, Mama!" Geoff stated.

Cordelia nodded. "I told them what I heard, and they did hearken also." Magnus nodded too. " Twas even as she saith. Was't not, mite?" Gregory nodded, wide-eyed. "The very image."

"You seem to be recognizing this." Rod had managed to calm down a bit.

"Having my mind probed by a thought-hearer?" Magnus smiled, amused. "How could I not know the feel of it, in

this house?"

"True, true." Rod nodded. "I suppose every esper child gets used to it, if he has esper siblings." He turned to

Gwen, frowning. "How'd the Abbot manage this one?"

Gwen looked up, startled. "My lord! Thou dost not think—"

"That this eavesdropping 'witch' is working for the Abbot?" Rod shrugged. "Who else would be wanting spies

right now? And doesn't already have them, of course. Tuan and Catharine have the Royal Coven, if they're

unethical enough to use it."

"Only when war hath already been declared," Geoff said quickly. Rod nodded. "But the Abbot, not being a professional, might not be so scrupulous. No, I think it's a safe bet that

the two are related—and from where I sit, that means His Grace has managed to persuade some witch-folk to

work for him." He frowned. "Wonder how he convinced them?"

"Dost thou not guess too rashly, Papa?" Gregory asked.

Page 75

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"There could be many others who grow restive, or even one

who hath—"

"A common cause. Yeah, I know." Privately, Rod gave his youngest points for insight. "But that would be too

much of a coincidence, for the Abbot to start stirring up trouble again exactly when somebody else happens to

take up mind-spying. I'll try to keep my mind open for the possibility, son, but from where I sit, this looks like

the safest bet. You're right, though—we need to know more about our mental spy."

"Or spies," Geoff noted.

Rod nodded. "Amended." He turned to Gwen. "Mind asking Toby over? He was still running the Royal Coven,

last I

knew."

"Goody!" Gregory cried, and Cordelia clapped her hands.

"He is ever welcome." Owen's smiled warmed. "And aye, husband, he is best for bidding the Crown's witch-folk

be alert and hearken for listeners."

"Without letting Their Majesties know, of course." Rod nodded. "Tuan might decide it's being too sneaky too

soon."

"The Queen might, also, Papa!" Cordelia maintained, chin

jutting a little.

Rod shook his head. "Not a chance. Catharine's the practical sort. You know—suspicious."

8

"Has the messenger been given refreshment?"

"Aye, Your Grace." Brother Alfonso closed the door of the Abbot's solar. "He dines in the kitchen, and will rest

Page 76

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

in the guest house. He is not so very wearied."

"Ayes 'tis but a day's ride, from Medici." The Abbot looked down at the letter he was holding with a smile.

Brother Alfonso's eyes glowed. "The news is good, then?"

"Most excellent. See! His Grace the Duke di Medici doth declare his support for the Church of Gramarye, and

his adherence to our cause." He spread the letter on his desk. Brother Alfonso moved quickly to his side, gazing down at the letter. "Praise be!" He scanned it quickly and

smiled, amused. "Ah! His words do sear the page! '. . . protection 'gainst the overweening arrogance of the