Demon Knight

remembered Lucrezia. Was it possible? Did she have enough power to balk him? So quickly? Wishing he had Hamish around to advise him, he looked to the one man who had not spoken. 'Marshal?'

'Back in Barcelona,' Diaz said with his customary impassivity, 'in the Palau Reial we had a saying, 'The hand to watch is the hand of the king.''

'Meaning?' the don barked.

'It means, Captain-General, that in Florence you should never turn your back on the Magnificent. Nothing happens here that he does not approve.'

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lisa's first view of Florence was from the high ground at the Porta San Piero Gattolino, with Hamish pointing out city landmarks as proudly as if he had built them all himself: the duomo, the various towers, gardens, and palaces. They descended the Via Romana to the Arno and crossed by the teeming Ponte Vecchio, which bore many busy stores, most selling meat and poultry. She admitted she had never seen a city bustle like this one and certainly none as clean, for the streets were paved with stone slabs; they had gutters and raised footpaths along each side. He showed her the Piazza della Signoria, with its astonishing statuary and soaring palaces, then the Old Market, where the noisy crowds were haggling over textiles and leatherwork and pottery set out on booths. She could tell from Carlo's amusement that he was sidetracking to let her see the sights, but she was in no especial hurry to be turned over to the ominous condottiere Longdirk.

The afternoon was heading for evening, and yet she was not at all weary — possibly because she had enjoyed a wonderful night's sleep. Hamish had stopped at an inn he knew and spared no expense, providing her with a room all to herself, which was an extraordinary extravagance when most travelers slept three or four to a bed.

They left Florence by the Porta Pinti, heading through fertile country toward the hills. Soon he was pointing out their destination, the camp of the Don Ramon Company, bright tents like jewels scattered over the hillside. All too soon her horse was pacing the muddy grass between them, and coarse men were hailing her companions in several languages, hooting at her, making loud comments about the bookworm having done a little looting and so on, very vulgar.

'They are insolent!' she said.

Hamish seemed not at all angry. 'I'm sorry they're insulting you, my lady. To me, it's a form of respect. Two years ago they just ignored me. Ever since San Leo, I've been worthy of insult. You should hear them lipping Toby! They don't think much of book learning. I'm not good at the things they regard as important.'

'You fought six men and—'

'With a rapier. To them, that's a toy. Battles are fought with pikes or guns or broadswords.'

Louts! They were a chilling reminder of the sort of man who might have rescued her. And the women were a chilling sight, too — an astonishing number of women. Some might be wives, but most probably weren't. Many carried babies on their backs, and children ran wild everywhere. This raw city of tents was unlike any place she had ever seen, and she dared not think about the future awaiting her if she could not be reunited with her mother.

At the door of a strange complex of buildings, seemingly half fort and half farm, Hamish dismounted and lifted her down. Carlo took charge of the horses, beaming bashfully when she thanked him for his help on the journey. The interior was dim and cool, with tiled floors and tiled ceilings; delicious odors of cooking made her mouth water. There were more women, more children, and more lewd greetings, more laughter.

The women's banter upset Hamish much more than the men's had. Scowling and tight-lipped, he hurried her through the building and out to a small enclosed courtyard, paved with mossy flagstones and partly roofed with trellises for vines. Two men were sitting at a massive stone table. They looked up at the interruption. Then the young one rose.

Hamish had mentioned that Longdirk was big, but he did not seem so at first. When she reached him, she realized that his breadth concealed his height. He was big in all directions. No one could ever describe him as handsome, for his face was all heavy bone — big jaw, brows like gables. Had she seen him in the street without his sword, she would have assumed from the size of his shoulders that he was a blacksmith or a woodcutter — unless she had noticed the penetrating brown eyes, which were appraising her now with worrisome concentration.

Golden hair was rare in Italy, but she had her head covered, and her clothes were nondescript and inconspicuous. Yet the giant was either very perceptive or an excellent guesser; he addressed her in English even before Hamish spoke.

'Your servant, ma'am.' Bow. He moved gracefully for his size. His voice was a rumbling bass.

'I am truly honored to meet the famous Constable Longdirk.' Curtsey.

The other man struggled belatedly to his feet, looking much like an old beggar, wrinkles and wild white hair, or perhaps some sort of crazy prophet. His eyes were certainly mad enough, staring at her. When Hamish named him as Doctor Fischart, she realized that this was the erstwhile Baron Oreste, the notorious hexer. He did not speak, so she ignored him.

She took the stool Hamish indicated and folded her hands in her lap. He pulled another up alongside her, comfortingly near, while the adept and condottiere settled themselves on the far side of the table. The expectant pause began to drag, as if Hamish were at a loss for words, for it was obviously up to him to speak first.

Longdirk said, 'Perhaps we should order in some wine in celebration?'

'Celebration of what?' Hamish snapped. 'Are you jumping to conclusions again?' His petulance surprised her. Was he nervous, too?

The big man grinned. 'Not a one. I'm going to be very interested to hear what the correct conclusions are. You look like a retriever that's just brought in a phoenix. You're hiding something, my lad, something big.'

Lisa took a hard look at Master Campbell without detecting any resemblance to a retriever.

'Don't be so vulgar,' he said. 'Listen. I was minding my own business in Siena on Carnival Night when I chanced upon some bravos molesting a lady. I used my guarddemon to rescue her. Then I introduced myself.'

'How astonishing,' Longdirk muttered. He flashed Lisa a grin that she found hard not to return. 'Then he gave you a long lecture on Egyptian pottery, I presume? Or underwater Gregorian chanting?'

Hamish scowled. 'This is serious! I had unwittingly put her in considerable difficulty, because my demon had moved us to another part of town. Having only recently arrived in Siena, she did not know the way back to her residence.' (That was a very charitable way of explaining her predicament, Lisa decided.) 'Moreover, it was obvious that the thugs had been looking for her specifically, and one of them was certainly a hexer.'

The big man's hands closed into fists. 'Gonzaga?'

'Probably. He was masked. In the circumstances, Lady Lisa agreed to accompany me back here. I sent word to Landolfo, telling him to try and locate her mother and inform her that her daughter was safe. That's all.'

The big man studied him for a moment, then laughed. He had a very big laugh, to match his size. 'That's a start. The rest of the camel is still outside the tent, but it'll come. May I inquire your mother's name, my lady?'

'Maud, Countess of Ely,' Hamish said. He glanced uneasily at the ugly old hexer. 'We must find suitable quarters and a suitable companion for Lady Lisa. Sister Bona, perhaps? A lady's maid, too. I fear her reputation may suffer if this tale gets out.'

'I fear more than that,' Longdirk growled. 'I am at your service, ma'am. Your companion's keeping something from us, I think.'

'And from me also, Constable. Is he always so elliptical?'

The condottiere grinned. 'He's usually more egg-shaped. It's getting chilly, but let's stay out here a little longer, because it's one place we can't be overheard.'

'Whatever you wish,' Lisa said. Her hand was entwined with Hamish's, although she did not recall that happening. He had never mentioned anyone called Gonzaga to her.

Longdirk took a hard look at the bizarre old man, who had never taken his mad eyes off her. Longdirk was well aware of that. 'Maestro, would you care to comment?'

'Blanche!'

Hamish must have felt her start, and Longdirk certainly noticed it.