'That name means something to you, my lady?'
'No. Nothing at all. I don't know anyone called Blanche. Why should I? Nobody called Blanche.'
The hexer's mouth writhed as if chewing something unpleasant. 'You have never heard your mother addressed as Blanche?'
'My mother's name is Maud! My father was the third Earl of Ely and was put to death by the Fiend. Mother fled from England with me many years ago and has traveled extensively.'
'I'm sure she has,' Longdirk said, his rumbling bass voice sounding surprisingly soft. It was hard to reconcile his gentle manner with the ferocious warrior of the stories, but he was obviously clever, dangerously clever.
Hamish's grip on her hand grew almost painful. 'Toby, stop badgering her! She's had a terrible experience and been extremely brave. She must be exhausted after the ride, and she needs some decent quarters and a servant and some proper clothes and—'
'In good time, my friend. Let's talk about Blanche.' He turned those cavernous eyes on Lisa again.
She pulled her hand loose from Hamish's grip. Obviously he wanted her out of the way before he discussed whatever it was that needed to be discussed — something everyone but she seemed to have ideas about. Somehow Longdirk had become her ally.
'Perhaps…' she said. 'I mean, I may have heard Mother addressed as Blanche once or twice. She has used several names in our travels. I don't recall her ever calling herself Blanche, though.'
'You are extraordinarily like her,' the old baron croaked.
Longdirk folded his big arms, pleased and satisfied. 'Tell us a story, Maestro!'
'Can't it wait?' Hamish begged. 'She's had a long, tiring journey on top of—'
'It's too serious to wait. Let's get it out.'
The old man laid his hands on the table and bowed his head. 'My lady… I will call you that. I was a scholar at Wittenburg and later Oxford, a man of some repute. One of my pupils was the third and youngest son of the King of England. He was a quiet, studious boy, with no expectations of succeeding to the throne. His ambitions lay more in the field of—'
'Why don't you go straight to the famous Night of the Masked Ball?' Longdirk said.
The old man did not look up. 'She does not know as much as you do. Although Nevil wanted to be a scholar, he was still a prince, and princes have dynastic responsibilities. King Edwin made a treaty and backed it up by marrying his youngest son to Princess Blanche of Jutland. She was sixteen, he was eighteen. They had no say in the matter and nothing in common, absolutely nothing. She was a foolish child, caring only for glittering balls and fine clothes, scorning his studies in the spiritual arts as unbecoming to royalty. Nevil sired a child on her, which was his duty, but he had lost his heart to a woman named Valda, a hexer of considerable ability. Valda persuaded him to return to court, and Princess Blanche was packed off to a remote country house to bear his child. Very soon Nevil's two brothers died, and then the king himself.'
'Murdered by Valda?' Longdirk asked softly.
'Undoubtedly. Nevil was king, and now Blanche was queen, but she remained at Highcross with her daughter, Princess Elizabeth.'
'Who was born when?'
'In 1509—May or thereabouts.'
This was unbelievable! Lisa bit her lip and did not look up, although she could feel them all staring at her. Hamish had hold of her hand again and was squeezing it.
'And you?' Longdirk asked.
'I was called to court,' the baron said hoarsely, 'a summons I dared not refuse. Nevil installed me in the palace and gave me every facility to continue my studies. I saw that Valda was leading him into very dangerous realms of conjuration. I warned him repeatedly, but he was so besotted by her that he would not listen, and undoubtedly she was using gramarye on him. My efforts to break her enchantments failed because she was invoking demons more powerful than any I dared employ. I was certain that she planned to murder Queen Blanche in time. The baby would have died, too — Valda was utterly without scruple. The entire court was terrified of her.' He sighed. 'Including me. But I did manage to foil a few of her plans, and thus she saw me as her enemy. My influence with Nevil sank even lower.'
'The Night of the Masked Ball?' Longdirk persisted.
'Valda had obtained an ancient and famous — infamous — demon by the name of Rhym, immured in a yellow diamond. It was hideously strong, and the conjuration was faulty. Several hexers had perished trying to use it. I begged both of them not to tamper with it, but Valda saw it as the key to her ambitions. With Rhym's power she could rip away the web that I and some others were trying to weave between her and the king. On the Night of the Masked Ball, Valda and Nevil attempted to conjure Rhym and the demon broke free. It took possession of him. How Valda managed to escape, I never dared ask him.'
Lisa glanced at Hamish, then looked away quickly. That the Fiend was a demonic husk was a common belief, but this old man was claiming firsthand knowledge. Lisa — Elizabeth? Blanche — Maude? Scurrilous rubbish, surely, and yet it would explain some terrible mysteries.
The old man's voice creaked on. 'I was not present, but I was close enough to detect what had happened. I fled from the court at once, not even changing my clothes. I rode alone through the night to Highcross and broke the news to the queen. By dawn she was on a ship bound for France.' He raised his head for the first time and met Lisa's horrified stare. 'You are very, very like her, child. When you stepped out through that doorway, my heart almost stopped.'
'But—'
'Wait!' Longdirk raised a hand. 'Finish your own tale, Maestro.'
The hexer shrugged, although in the gathering dark his black-robed shoulders were almost invisible. White hair and beard and eyes like caves—'I went back to court to see if there was anything I could do. I had some slight hope that it might have been Valda who had been possessed, you see, although I should have guessed that Rhym was clever enough to make the better choice. Whichever of the two had survived must still know the conjuration, so I had hopes that, with my help, the demon might be immured again.'
'You were courageous.'
'I was a fool. Rhym enslaved me at once. I served that monster diligently for many, many years, until you released me, and for that I curse you, because I can never be free of the guilt my crimes have—'
'You bear no guilt, old man, as I tell you every day and as Montserrat told you. Your Highness?'
Longdirk was addressing her with that terrible title! She shook her head violently.
'It fits, Princess,' he said. 'It fits! No one ever knew what happened to the missing Queen of England. Obviously Nevil would want to destroy her, for that is how demons think, and destroy you also, because you represent some small danger to him. He has wiped out all the royal houses of Europe for much less cause. You are the right age, are you not?'
'It is a sad tale, sir,' she muttered, 'but nothing to do with me.'
Yet her heart was telling her that it must be true, that Mother was not crazy at all with her endless flitting from place to place, staying away from the frontier as the Fiend steadily pushed it south and eastward, depending on friends originally, perhaps, but soon on strangers, loyalists who would shelter her and her child for a few months and then pass her on to others. Until in Siena the pursuers had closed in, two nights ago. Hamish had worked it out and not told her.
'Lisa…' he said. 'I mean, 'Your Highness.' No, it isn't 'Your Highness' either, is it? We know that the King of England is a demonic creature, not human. He's legally dead, so you—'
'No, no!' This was worse!
'I'm afraid so — Your Majesty. Your true father died years ago, so you mustn't feel that the Fiend's atrocities have anything to do with you. We know a few of his agents in Italy, men bound to obedience as the baron here once was. We watch them carefully, and when one of them suddenly traveled to Siena, I followed to try and find out what he was up to. I enlisted some men to keep an eye on him. Now I know what he was up to, don't I?'
'Mother? Looking for Mother?'
'Yes, but looking for you even more.' His voice sank to a whisper. 'You are rightful Queen of England.'
It was Longdirk who broke the terrible silence, his voice deep and smooth as a river. 'That's not something to worry about today. You're safe here, my lady, but your mother is still in very grave danger. You don't know exactly where the house is? Maestro, what can you do? Can you locate her?'
