But Jagiellon needed to send him back. Whatever it was about Corfu that hampered his own magics was powerful, intensely so. Jagiellon could not afford to let it fall into Emeric's hands. He knew that Emeric was a cat's- paw for someone whose interest in mere geographical possessions was limited: the sorceress across the Carpathians.
Soon, therefore, the shaman must go back. The power of Corfu would be centered on a specific place. The shaman must be the first into that place. The slave was useless now. His wounding had been physical and dire, and Jagiellon was not sure if he was going to bother to repair him.
Chapter 87
'So I was thinking,' said Marco, 'maybe I could try to contact Benito.'
Sister Evangelina shook her head. 'Even our most powerful mages cannot contact Eneko Lopez. Corfu seems to have become an island in a magical sense also. Besides, Eneko Lopez advised you not to try scrying out of the confines of the Venetian lagoon, did he not?'
Brother Mascoli smiled gently. 'According to my researches, Corfu has always been a magical island.'
Marco looked stubborn. 'Look. The danger with my scrying was that the focus of my vision was too wide, that evil can enter and attack me. I can defend myself now. I've been practicing, as you know. With Kat, whom I know and love, I can narrow that down. Eneko didn't say 'never,' he said only in a case of dire need. I think there is now need.'
Mascoli nodded. 'And blood connections are always stronger. There is a magical resonance between them. But still, Marco, even if you could narrow your search and only reach Benito, and protect yourself, Corfu cannot be reached.'
'I grant there is need,' said Evangelina, 'but is it dire?'
'I believe so,' said Marco quietly. 'I believe Benito needs me.'
* * *
'Is there anything that can be done for him?'
'God willing, yes.' Eneko Lopez scowled. 'Although here on Corfu . . . But we will do our best.'
Manfred let one of his meaty hands rest on Erik's forehead—a surprisingly gentle gesture for so big and powerful a man. 'I owe you a debt I can't ever repay, Benito. May God forgive me for letting him go. Or I should have gone with him.'
He shook his head. 'What a mess, Benito. I always thought . . . other people died in combat. Since this siege started, I'm beginning to realize that 'other people' can be your closest friends.'
'If Eneko succeeds then he's going to need close friends, Manfred. She's dead. Caesare's men, or at least their horses, killed her. I didn't know Erik like you did. But . . . before this happened he was very much in love. He— they—were about as happy as a couple can be. When he got there, she was dying already. He went berserker. He killed half the Hungarians himself. Then Caesare nearly killed him with this magical blow.'
'And what happened to Caesare Aldanto? I swear this world isn't big enough for both of us to live in.' It was said with a calm assurance that was no less terrifying for its calmness. All the more so, coming from a prince of the Holy Roman Empire.
'I shot him. I think he's dead. Some monstrous eel thing took him down into the water.'
'Chernobog's minion!' exclaimed Brother Francis. 'The hagfish.'
Manfred put a big arm around Benito. 'You shot him? Well done! Are you sure you hit him?'
'Certain. I wasn't more than three yards off. I shot him in the gut. Liver and spine would have been hit too.'
'How did you get so close? Melee?'
'I did what he taught me. Distracted him. Convinced him I was going to fence with him. And then I shot him when he thought I was dead meat.'
'Well done!' repeated Manfred. 'He never taught you anything better in his life. Now, you look exhausted.' He managed a grin. 'These jack-in-the-box visits to the Citadel are all very well, but they're not good for you. Go and rest. I'll sit with Erik.'
'I'll just go to see Maria . . . 'bout Caesare.'
'You're swaying on your feet. She'll have the news by now or I know nothing about women. And I'll send Von Gherens down to tell her you're fine, but that you're in bed. Your own, alone, asleep.'
Benito chuckled. 'Not that she cares. But I suppose it will keep.'
* * *
Benito slept a full twenty hours. He hadn't realized just how exhausted he was. Now up, washed—in salt water, as fresh water in the Citadel was under severe rationing—and dressed, he carefully checked, unloaded and reloaded Maria's wheel-lock pistol. Then he set off to see her.
'It's the bad penny again, Umberto,' said Maria.
'And it is good to see him. If we had ten bad pennies like this youngster, Emeric wouldn't have a siege!' Umberto waved to a chair. 'Have you come to see my daughter again?' he asked, with an attempt at a stern look. 'I tell you I want a respectable
'Where is she?'
'Mrs. Grisini and her maid have taken her out for a walk. The old lady is a little crazy too. I've sat with her a few times when Anastasia has been sick. She . . . sees things. But she's harmless. And she adores 'Lessi. I don't
