blood and brains and entrails of the servants. Then, when that was done, he ordered that wing of the palace burnt to the ground.
The bonfire produced a memorable stench. The flames, despite the feverish efforts of the soldiers, singed some other portions of the palace also. But Jagiellon was indifferent. A few charred timbers here and there were a small price to pay for power. He need no longer fear that Mindaug might have left some magical links behind.
Jagiellon's fury had ebbed by then, in any event. There was always this to look forward to: The skin of the beautiful Hungarian sorceress would make a memorable meal, someday in the future, with Mindaug's as the appetizer.
* * *
The triumphal fleet sailed into the anchorage off the Citadel of Corfu, led by three light galleys and a number of fishing vessels. It was a small gesture, but a significant one.
Amid the cheering, Marco was one of the first ashore, looking for Benito among the emaciated defenders. He found him, with a baby on his knee.
'Ah. Godfather,' said Benito with a tired smile. 'The man I need. Here. Have her.'
'Er.'
'Stella here will help you with practical details like feeding and cleaning,' said Benito, putting a hand on her shoulder. 'As for entertainment, Brother, you're on your own. She sleeps a lot, luckily for you. And she likes to dance. Even my dancing. Although she probably won't by the time I get back.'
'But . . . where are you going? What happened to Maria, Benito?'
'I'm going to try and bring her back from the Kingdom of the Dead.'
Marco grabbed Benito as he began to turn. 'Maria was my friend too, 'Nito. Now tell me exactly what you're planning to do and what has happened.'
Marco was unprepared for the tears streaming down Benito's face.
Chapter 102
'I'm going to Hades,' said Benito grimly.
'Hades?'
'Apparently where this cult sent Maria to.'
'You mean Hell?'
'They say it isn't the same at all. Just the Kingdom of the Dead. Except that she is alive in it. I want to bring her home.'
'Are they telling you the truth?' Manfred asked doubtfully.
Benito shrugged. 'It's a chance I'll take. I'll try anything. The nymphs seem quite earnest about it. The entry is on the Greek mainland. The Byzantines are nominally at least in control, but I can get a fishing boat to take me across without causing any upset, I reckon.'
'I will accompany you,' Erik said firmly. 'For two reasons, Benito. One is that you've come with me, and been my spear carrier, and borne me away on my shield when I needed that. The other is that I also lost someone precious. I would give anything to see her again. Anything at all.'
Benito took a deep breath. 'I don't know, Erik. I don't know if they'll allow it. And even if you do find Svanhild . . . she is dead, my friend. Maria is somehow alive down there. They tricked her into this. I'm going to get her back if I can.'
Erik smiled sadly and put a hand on Benito's shoulder. 'I know this. But you must understand. Even if the chances are tiny, we must take them. Even if I can only speak to her, I will accept that. The loser must accept what terms he can get. And Svan . . . there were so many things I still wanted to say.'
Manfred lumbered to his feet. 'Well, I have to tell you this. This time, you're not—either of you—going off on this without me.'
'I cannot permit it. It is too risky,' said Erik, automatically.
Manfred squeezed his shoulder. 'Erik, you are my bodyguard and my friend. But the dangers of the halls of the dead don't relate to the body. The dead don't touch the body. They can't. What they can damage and destroy is the mind and the heart. To be honest with you: Your mind and heart are a lot more fragile than mine.'
'You don't have a mind to damage, above your belt,' said Erik grumpily, a spark of his old self asserting itself. 'But I cannot take that chance.'
'I'm not actually giving you the choice, Erik,' said Manfred with simple finality.
Benito realized, then, just what power rested in the House of Hohenstaffen. The Emperor ruled millions in the Holy Roman Empire . . . but it wasn't just because of being in line to the throne that Manfred could speak so. Erik had always seemed to order Manfred around. For his own safety and good, of course. But when he wanted to exercise it, ultimate authority rested with Manfred. It always would.
'We'll have to do this quietly,' said Manfred. 'Or I'll have to go through this pointless argument with everyone. Organize it, Benito.'
* * *
'The Acheron? You want the
