The Book of Earth (44 page)

He bent to dig snow out of his boot. “Perhaps he should reconsider his prohibition against eating human flesh. Like right now.”

The mule squealed and lashed out, striking the sword from one of the soldier’s hands. The man swore in pain and hugged his wrist.

Hal straightened, suddenly smiling and helpful. “Oh, he’s a real killer, that one. My boy here can’t even handle him. I don’t know why I keep him. Here, I’ll do what I can.” He went toward the mule, dragging Erde with him. He made a lengthy show of being unable to calm the spooked and violent animal while Erde stood in the snow silently pleading with the dragon to listen, to respond, to give her just one sign that he was alive and well and aware of what was happening.

But the lordling soon lost patience. “Quiet him down or he’s a dead animal, never mind the baron’s order!” He signaled his men. “Get those doors open!”

The mule allowed himself to be driven off to one side, but would let no one touch him. The soldiers hauled open the heavy doors and rushed inside. Erde heard them thrashing about, slamming bin lids and rustling through the straw. She heard no exclamations of horror or surprise. She exchanged a quick glance with Hal and as soon as both could casually do so, they peered around the edge of the doorway. The soldiers stood at a loss in the middle of an apparently deserted barn. One of them was searching the mule packs. All he came up with that interested him was a second sword wrapped in linen. He tore off the bindings, examined it possessively, then set it aside. Alla’s little carved box he opened and tossed back in the pack when he found it contained only a strip of paper. Erde was glad she wore the dragon brooch pinned to the inside of her shirt. She sent praise to Earth, even though he never responded when he was being invisible. At least he’d found the strength to do that.

The lordling rode his horse into the barn and looked around. “You’ve hidden her well, sir knight.”

“I’ve hidden no one,” Hal replied truthfully.

“Perhaps she’s hidden herself. A vanishing spell. A witch can do such things.”

Erde shuddered to think how close to reality he’d stumbled.

Hal rolled his eyes as if the young man were raving. “So I’m told. But then, why would she hide out in a barn? She could simply vanish and walk right out of town.”

The lordling drew himself up in his saddle. “She wouldn’t get past. The holy brother has an acolyte at every gate to sniff out any unholy witchcraft.”

“Is that so?” replied Hal, as one might to soothe a lunatic.

“Besides, you are her loyal minion who saved her from the stake. She will come back for you, and we will be waiting. You there! Bind his hands!”

One man scurried for rope. Another yanked Hal’s arms around his back and held them ready as his companion tied them tightly.

Hal looked up at the man on the horse. “Are you sure you’re ready to face the Powers of Darkness all by yourself?” When the young man blanched, he returned an avuncular chuckle. “Really, lad, there is no ‘she.’ I’ve got no woman hidden. I’m hungry, you’re probably thirsty, we’re all of us freezing our asses off, and what you should really do is take me to Baron Köthen right away. I’m sure his hospitality will prove superior to this drafty old barn.”

“Superior, no doubt, and a lot more secure,” said a dry voice behind them.

The lordling slid quickly off his horse.

“Ah. At last.” Hal turned easily. “Still so light on your feet, Dolph.”

Baron Köthen stood in the doorway, snow melting on his bared blond head. His arms folded and his stance hip-slung, he looked both edgy and satisfied. “Well . . . I learned from the best.”

“Just searching about town on your own, eh?”

“Oh, please, I came as soon as I heard. How many King’s Knights are there left running about loose, after all?” Behind him, a large party of soldiers swooped into the yard amidst the multiple clinkings of harness and armor. Köthen moved in from the doorway, casually but in full enjoyment of his authority. His clothing was plain but well-cut, with just the right amount of swagger. His beard was neatly trimmed. His eyes, Erde noted, were dark, belying his
lighter coloring. He spotted Hal’s peculiarly stiff posture, bent to glance behind him, then turned on the lordling in a rage. “What? You’ve bound him? Fool, where are your manners? Release him immediately!”

The lordling himself jumped to untie the ropes. Hal rubbed his wrists ceremonially. “So. You come to me, Dolph? I’m honored.”

“With all the respect possible, my knight, under the circumstances.”

Something like pain shadowed Hal’s eyes momentarily. The two men stared at each other, then Köthen took a step forward and held out his hand. Hal moved at the same instant to meet him. They clasped hands eagerly, with visible affection. The lordling stood by, astonished.

“You’re looking well, Dolph.”

“And you, considering. What brings you to Erfurt?”

Hal regarded the younger man steadily. “I came to visit a friend, but I gather he’s left town.”

Köthen laughed softly. The smile turned his rugged face briefly boyish. He reached out to pinch the red leather of Hal’s jerkin between two fingers. “I hope you’ll tell me, my knight, that you wear this still because the impoverished circumstances of your life deny you the luxury of a new wardrobe.”

Hal looked down, spreading his arms to survey himself better. “What? You don’t like the cut? Or perhaps it’s the color. Yes, the color, no doubt. But I rather think it flatters me. I always hoped you’d grow to favor it yourself.”

“There are more fashionable colors now in Erfurt.”

“Ah, yes.” Hal sucked his teeth noisily. “The blue and yellow, perhaps? But you know me better, Dolph. Never one to change my color at the whim of fashion.”

When Köthen made as if to turn away, Hal grasped his wrist and pulled him nearer. Swords rattled all around the barn but Köthen held up a hand and waved them away. “Give us some privacy here, for Christ’s sake!”

The soldiers backed out of the barn. The lordling remained in the doorway, feeling suddenly irrelevant.

“So, Dolph. What is this you’re up to?” Hal demanded quietly. “Conniving with your fellow peers is one thing. It’s what a baron does. But to take up your sword against His Majesty? Didn’t I teach you better than
treason?
”

Köthen’s head dipped. Erde saw his eyes squeeze shut briefly. He took a breath and when he spoke, she could barely hear him. “You taught me everything I know that’s worth anything, but your most vivid lesson was one you never intended, and that was about the futility of devoting your life and loyalty to a weakling monarch.” He looked up at Hal intently. “We live in woeful times, Heinrich, listen to me. I will be a better master to our people. I will keep them safe. I will hold the barons in control. I will make the kingdom prosper again.”

“You could do all that, Dolph—and I don’t doubt you could—and still do it in the service of your king. Come wear the Red with me. Make it honorable again. Are you so hungry for a crown?”

Köthen shook him off with a snort of anguish. “You’ll force me to make an enemy of you.”

“Your deeds here have done that for you already. Though it doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

Köthen’s laugh was harsh this time. “Well, I’d rather you hated me!”

“If I were to hate you, I’d have to give up hope of changing your mind.”

“Hate me, then. Show me some human foible, Heinrich! Cut yourself down to life size in my eyes, so I can bear the pain of disappointing you.”

“Ah, Dolph, I’m a foolish old man still unfashionably loyal to his king. Is that not disappointing enough?”

“You’re not that old, and you’re certainly not foolish.” Köthen stared at him resignedly. “Which means you’re still dangerous, and my unwilling guest no matter what.” He turned away to walk farther into the barn, stretching. The fine dark links of his mail jingled musically along his arms. “Well, I’ll try to keep you alive as long as I can, though with this mad priest, there’s no telling . . .” He searched about vaguely as if at a loss for further conversation, then rounded again on the lordling. “Here! A seat for Baron Weisstrasse! For me, too, if you can find more than one.” He noticed Erde finally and seized on her as possibly neutral subject matter. “So, is this your latest? Starting them awfully young now, Heinrich. Looks hardly old enough to lift a blade.”

“As old as you were, when you came to me.”

Köthen’s shoulders hunched, then he shook off the memory. “What’s your name, boy? Speak up! What household are you from?”

“He can’t, Dolph, and he’s not from any household. What lord would give their sons to me to train nowadays? He’s a mute orphan lad I saved from starvation, and he serves me well enough.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s a worthy lad and I’ll try to keep him alive as well. Though you don’t make it easy for me, my knight.”

Hal eyed him satirically. “If I gave up my principles at my age, what would I have left?”

Köthen turned back to grip Hal with both hands and shake him gently. “A comfortable rest of your life in my service, as my most valued counselor. Heinrich, I beg you, listen to reason.”

“What is comfort without honor?” returned Hal recklessly, but his eyes over his grin were serious.

“What is honor without power?” Köthen replied.

“Ha. I should know never to debate the fine points with you. My sword was superior, but you were always the better politician.”

“As events have proven.”

“Perhaps. Though we haven’t seen the end of this yet. What of the prince? Have you left him alive?”

Köthen flushed. “Of course! Did you think . . . ?”

“I think you won’t actually claim a throne while it has a living heir.”

“Carl is safe!” Köthen returned hotly. “Fool that he is.”

Hal looked glum. “I won’t disagree with you there.”

“I’ll rule as regent.”

“The king still reigns.”

“Where? You tell me where!” Köthen jabbed a finger at Hal like an angry schoolmaster. “You find me one corner of this land still loyal to that weak old man and I’ll go there and clean it out with my own hands! My own bare hands, Heinrich. I swear! This kingdom is dying and it needs a leader, a
real
leader, to make it whole again!”

Into the chill silence that fell between them then came new sounds, from out on the street. Men’s deep voices booming out a liturgical chant. Listening a moment longer, Erde knew her worst fears had been realized.

“Damn!” Köthen muttered, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“My lord baron,” began the lordling from the door. “It’s . . .”

“I know who it is, idiot! Why now? Maybe it’s coincidence. Maybe he’ll just pass by.”

Fighting a panic so visceral that it nearly froze her to the spot, Erde glanced wildly around the barn for some sign of where the dragon was hiding himself. She found nothing, and began to doubt if he was there at all. She clutched at the dragon brooch inside her shirt for comfort. It provided her none. The smooth stone was icy to her touch, as frigid as the wind outside, as chilled as her doubting heart. What if Earth had gone off without them? What if the she-goat had provided just enough strength to take him to Deep Moor, and he’d gone back to feed? He’d have no way of knowing he’d be leaving her to the grotesque mercies of the white-robed priest. The chanting grew louder as it neared.

“They’re singing an exorcism,” noted Hal. Erde watched suspicion bloom across his face.

“Are they really,” Köthen replied without a shred of interest. “Only you would know such a thing.”

The singers rounded the corner and passed under the arch into the brickyard. Erde pulled her hood up and her cap down, and edged backward toward the darkest recesses of the barn. She knew it was hopeless. If the priest came in, he would sniff her out somehow. He had that gift.

Köthen sighed and started for the door. “If only he’d keep his mind on his own business!”

Hastily, Hal put himself in the way. “Dolph, don’t let him in here. Keep him away from me.”

“I’d as soon keep him away from all of us.”

Hal lowered his voice. “No joke, Dolph. I mean it. You don’t know what you’re into here. Keep him out. You won’t like what will come of it, even you.”

“
Even
me. Ha. Spare me your contempt, Heinrich.”

“Dolph, I’m warning you. He’ll have me on the stake.”

Erde knew who the knight was really worried about, and she was grateful. But she doubted that his offering himself up as a distraction would fool the priest for very long.

Köthen of course could not understand as she did. He laughed. “Is that old reputation still dogging you? Come
now, my knight. What is this unmanly terror of a mere cleric?”

“You already know better than that.”

“Well, all right, yes, I do. It doesn’t take very long, it’s true. But relax, he only burns witches and warlocks.”

Hal nodded. “Precisely.”

Köthen paused, eyes narrowing. “Heinrich, no one who knows you takes any of that old sorcery stuff seriously. You may die on the block, like a man, but at the stake? Not while I’m in charge.”

“If you let him in here, you may not have the choice.”

“I see.” Köthen eased back onto his heels, studying him. “You tell me, then, my knight: just what am I into that I don’t know about?”

As Hal quickly weighed how much was safe to tell him, too soon there was someone at the door. The lordling stood aside with a bow. Erde shrank further into the shadows, burrowing into the straw and screaming in her mind for the dragon to come and save her. But the man who entered was not Brother Guillemo. It was Josef von Alte. Köthen stiffened, then moved a long step away from Hal. Von Alte blinked, his eyes adjusting to the relative darkness of the barn. His silver hair brought in an icy glint from outside. He saw Köthen, then Hal. He squinted, then frowned.

“Weisstrasse? Is that you? What the hell are you doing here?”

Hal bowed deeply. “Your servant as always, my lord of Alte.”

Köthen snickered. “Don’t pick on him, Heinrich. He’s had a hard day, too. No, come to think of it, pick on him all you like. Save me the trouble.”

Erde wished that, like the dragon, she could become invisible. But for the moment, these three rival barons were too busy jockeying for position to notice a mere prentice boy. She watched her father covertly, breathless at being thrust into his presence like this, without warning. From the rooftop, he’d looked all right. She remembered how he used to fill doorways. She thought his slimmer shape suited him. But close up, his eyes were pouchy and his skin sallow. It wasn’t just age. Hal was probably twenty years older and looked far more fit. She saw her father was ill at ease. At Tor Alte, she’d thought him a model of the worldly, modern
courtier, even when she didn’t agree with him. But here, shown up against the likes of Köthen and Hal Engle, he seemed provincial, a bit pretentious, and painfully aware of it. It wasn’t his clothing or his accent, but his lack of confidence, as if somewhere in the journey between Tor Alte and Erfurt, his will had been shattered. (How ironic, that during the very same journey, her own had been forged.) Only cunning and bravado kept Baron Josef from complete collapse. Erde blamed it on the priest and his promises of glory. If her father had stayed at home to mind his own lands, like his mother the baroness had insisted on doing, Erde thought he could have learned to rule properly. Now he was working very hard to be bully and likable, which was not really in his nature, especially when faced with Köthen’s unconcealed disdain. There was also the disadvantage of not understanding why these two men before him now, who ought to have been blood enemies, met him with an unidentifiable solidarity and identical expressions. A sharp rise in the volume of the chanting saved him from having to respond to Köthen’s gibe.