So all he said was: 'I am yours to command, Abbot.'
The abbot blinked. He looked as though he hadn't expected it to be so simple. For a moment, Sachs seem to fumble for words. Then:
'Well, the mission we have for you is not simple or easy. This city is full of corruption and evil. We need to root it out. I, personally, would like to put half of these ungodly ones to the question.'
I'll bet you would, thought Erik wearily. Personally. And by the time you'd finished with them they'd confess to anything you pleased.
But he held his tongue, and simply concentrated on not sneezing.
Sachs plainly expected a reply or a comment. 'Well?'
'I am yours to command, Abbot,' repeated Erik woodenly.
The abbot looked intently at him. Then, laced his fingers. 'Very well. I shall command you. Tonight, just before midnight, you will proceed to the Calle Largo di Lorenzo. You will be unarmored, and without your sword, but wearing your surcoat showing yourself to be one of the Knights of the Holy Trinity. Get one of the boatmen to take you, as you'll never find it on your own. You will have wine on your breath, and you will be seen to be unsteady on your feet. Do you have that clearly? You will be seen to be unsteady. You will turn into the third alleyway and proceed down it. Perhaps you should sing. You will go to the last house on the left-hand side and demand entry.'
Erik swallowed. Was this some kind of trap? Why in the seven hells was the abbot sending him to visit one of Venice's most notorious brothels? He didn't need a boatman to show him the way. He knew perfectly well where it was, down to which door. He'd hauled Manfred out of there not two nights ago. The Madame was not going to be pleased to see him again.
'Why?' he rasped.
At last, Sachs looked genuinely pleased. 'Because I have commanded you.'
'Yes, Abbot.' And then Erik could contain it no longer. He sneezed. Then he sneezed again.
Sachs had obviously not expected this answer, because he did explain. 'It is an ambush. One of our agents has brought us information that a large group of the ungodly pagans will be conducting their evil rites there. When you have gained entry, you will create a disturbance. You will continue to do so for as long as possible, while the Knights force entry at the water-door.'
'Haaachoo! Yes, Abbot. Ndow will you excuse me? By dose is streaming.'
* * *
The bed groaned as Manfred did his customary flop onto it. As usual, he gave his attention to the bedpost caryatides before turning to Erik. 'What's up? Why are you pacing about, rubbing a thoughtful hand on that pious, sharpcut chin of yours?'
Erik took a deep breath. 'I've got to go brothel-creeping!'
Manfred leapt to his feet in a single movement, like a crossbow snapping straight. It was at moments like this that the big knight revealed his true strength and agility. He rubbed his hands gleefully and grinned, revealing those blocky teeth.
'Oh, me too. Me too! But this time just to watch! What's suddenly come over you, my pure Icelandic friend? Besides the need for female company, that is?'
Erik scowled. 'I've got orders from Abbot Sachs to go to the House of the Red Cat. You will be staying here. Even if I have to lock you up, you will be staying here. And it's not funny,' he snarled, seeing the young knight- squire's expression.
Manfred put his hand in front of his grin, trying to hide it. His shoulders began to shake. Then he gave up. He laughed. He guffawed. Eventually he collapsed onto the bed again, still fighting off paroxysms of chuckles while Erik stared at him in icy irritation.
Eventually he stopped long enough for Erik to start speaking. 'It's a direct order!'
This provoked a snort of derision from Manfred. 'I'll bet. Tell me another one. Unless Sachs is learning more from Sister Ursula than we realize.'
'I'm supposed to be a decoy for a raid, you young fathead! I should take you out into the practice yard and teach you some decorum,' snapped Erik.
