Fortune favored her, this time. They weren't in their rooms, but they were at prayer in the chapel along with the nun whose gardens were a byword in the town.
Not knowing how to disturb them, she waited. One, the tall dark one, noticed her. 'Can we help you, signorina?'
Eneko Lopez's heavy line of dark brow drew together as he looked at her. He nodded. 'Maria Verrier. The friend and maid of honor to Katerina Montescue. Are you looking for us?'
Maria nodded. 'Father. Uh, yes. You are an expert on witchcraft, I think?'
Lopez smiled wryly. The others chuckled. 'I have had to deal with various forms of pagan magic. Whether that qualifies me as an expert, I don't know. But how may I help you?'
She opened her basket and, to everyone's surprise, took out the very recognizable pot and pointed into it. 'I interrupted someone leaving this in my house.'
Looking up and seeing the bemusement on the faces of the monks, she realized the possible confusion. 'Uh. I just used this pot to carry it in. I didn't want to touch it. I think it is a curse.'
The priests came up and peered into the pot. 'Come. Put it in front of the altar. Let us exorcize it anyway,' said Eneko Lopez, taking it from her. 'And this other thing in here?'
'It's a glove. The woman who was putting it in my house lost it in the struggle. She was using gloves to carry the thing.'
Eneko's line of eyebrow raised. He went and placed the pot in front of the altar. He and the others arranged four candles very precisely around it, and then began to sprinkle salt, and then water, and burn incense as they chanted a psalm while walking around the pot.
Maria tried very earnestly to pray. Not for herself, so much, but for Alessia. Children were very vulnerable to disease. She wasn't sure, but she thought they might be especially vulnerable to black magic also.
When they'd finished, one of the priests went and fetched a pair of fine tongs—simple black iron things, but surprisingly delicate. They blessed the tongs and asked for protection on them, and then they began examining the bunch of plants and other fragments carefully. After a few minutes Eneko came over to where Maria still knelt.
'Maria.' He spoke gently, and in a way she'd not expected from such a man. With understanding. 'I know this is very frightening, but I have some good news for you. That revolting thing is as magical as a brick. It was someone playing a very unpleasant and particularly nasty trick. It's a complete fraud.'
One of the other priests had come up too. 'A fraud by a person who knew more than is good for them about black magic and its symbols, but a fraud nonetheless. The words on the strip that bind the bunch together are indeed some demon names. But two of them are misspelled and there are no words of summoning. And one of those is the demon associated with senile dementia and the others are of little relevance, either.'
'But the smell . . .'
The other monks had come up by this time. 'I think you put it in the right place,' said one of them. 'It has been dipped in night soil. Unpleasant and smelly, certainly, but quite unmagical. Of that we are certain.'
'A pity,' said the other. 'I really thought, Diego, that at last we had a lead on these devil-worshipers.'
The short dark saturnine one shook his head. 'I'm afraid not.'
Eneko patted Maria, reassuringly. 'Although you're disappointed, I don't think Maria is.'
Maria shuddered. 'No. Not at all. But . . . are you sure it is harmless?'
'Absolutely certain. There is not even a trace of magic about this thing.'
'The woman I interrupted didn't think so. She fought me like a mad thing. She obviously believed in it.'
Eneko walked back to the pot. 'You say this was her glove? A wealthy enemy, this one of yours.'
Maria had come over to it, too. She looked at the glove. It was made of the finest blemish-free kid with small pearl studs. Yes. Someone wealthy beyond Maria's dreams of avarice. Someone who could afford to spend on a pair of gloves the kind of money that Maria didn't spend on clothes in a year.
She shook her head. 'But who? I don't really have any enemies—not that hate me that much, surely? And I know hardly any wealthy people. Here on Corfu, at least.'
'Hmm. Do you want this pot back right away? We might try divining on it if we fail in this project we're currently busy with,' said Eneko. 'It may not lead us any closer to the devil-worshipers we seek, but it may be a good idea to root out whatever fraud is preying on people and letting their worst natures lead them into this.'
Maria looked at the pot and shuddered again. 'I certainly don't want it back. Ever.'
Chapter 67
Emeric smiled rapaciously, looking at the assembled cavalry. When the details of the planned sorties had reached him, he'd been unable to believe the naivete of them. But Fianelli assured him that the information was absolutely rock solid. It came from the best of sources. Emeric had told Count Dragorvich, his siegemaster. The Count had simply stared at him and then begun laughing.
'Why not just give us the keys to the gate, Your Majesty? We're finishing the south first, so they'll face the south. Well, Sire, you wanted to use the heavy cavalry. If this is really their battle plan, here is the opportunity.'
Emeric nodded. 'Light skirmishers and a testudo-covered ram on foot, as the sacrificial troops. Not too many. Use some of those Slovenes. And when the gates are full of arquebusiers—a two-prong charge. And tell the gunners not to aim for the gate any more. We want it to be able to open nicely and easily.'
* * *
The moles had been basically complete since the previous day. Emeric made no effort to push troops across them yet, but kept the men working on them, widening and improving them; even clearing the sheltering mole
