Demon Knight

up, or try to. Beritola had told others that curled it.

'Oh, please rise, Your Magnificence.'

Maud did not present the third visitor, an elderly, portly man, but his threadbare garb and the way he lingered in the background indicated that he was of no importance. And Marshal Diaz would be no help. He always looked as if he had been carved out of oak. Today he had been cast in bronze.

She did not attempt Italian. Mother had been speaking French.

'Your Grace, Your Magnificence — I am most honored to meet you, although you catch me at an unfortunate moment. Dishabille! Had I known in advance of your coming, I should of course have been most delighted to enjoy, er, share your visit. I have heard so much about… I mean next time…' It was not going to work.

'You poor child!' said the duchess. 'How can you have endured this horrible place? Tonight you will sleep in silken sheets on a swansdown bed, as a queen should.' Her smile would melt a portcullis.

'But…' But she was about to be taken away and locked up, and she would never be allowed to see Hamish again. She turned to glare at her mother. Why had she admitted her identity after denying it for so long? Had Lisa been here, she would have stiffened her backbone for her. Deny it! They could prove nothing!

'I have accepted Her Grace's invitation, Lisa.'

'Well, I have not! Go if you wish, Mother. I will stay here. I am the guest of Constable Longdirk, and it would be most discourteous of me to leave when he himself is absent, and without thank—'

The notorious Lucrezia laughed most gaily. 'Longdirk? I don't think that overgrown brute will cause—'

'Be silent,' the Magnificent said sharply, stopping her instantly. He turned a pair of alarmingly sharp eyes on Lisa. 'Your Majesty, we learned of your presence here and your identity only this morning, and we came at once. What we have learned, others will. I confess that our interest has now made this inevitable, but it would have happened anyway. You are no longer—'

'Learned how?' Lisa demanded. 'From whom?' She was digging nails into her palms, desperately trying to dream up some valid defense, some way of staying here until Hamish returned.

'From a source I trust too much to reveal, madonna.' He was amused by her resistance and barely managing to pretend otherwise. He gestured at the third member of the group, the elderly fat man. 'For many years messer Minutolo was my family's agent in London. He was present at your parents' wedding, and we brought him along to confirm your mother's identity, so we should not cause trouble or distress to anyone if our information was false.'

Marshal Diaz took up the cudgel. 'My lady, His Magnificence also brought a warrant from the signoria. The Don Ramon Company is in their employ, my lady. I shall inform Constable Longdirk immediately of what has transpired, but in the meantime I respectfully counsel you to be guided by Her Grace and His Magnificence.'

Stupid, stolid, stagnant Diaz! He should have been an acolyte, not a mercenary! The footman and postilion had opened the coach door and dropped the steps. The guards had closed in around the group.

'Come, dear.' Maud laid a hand on her arm.

'Where are we going?'

'My house is at your disposal, Majesty,' Marradi said.

She had seen that gloomy pile. Hamish had pointed it out to her. It looked like a fortress. 'My clothes —'

Lucrezia laughed. 'You will have all the clothes you can stand to try on, child, garments more suitable for a palace, I daresay.'

'My maid! Beritola?'

'We can send for her if you wish, but I can give you a dozen better.'

Reluctantly — oh, so reluctantly! — Lisa let her mother urge her toward the coach. Hamish would rescue her! No. Disloyal though it seemed, she did not believe that. The only person she could imagine who might be able to rescue her from the Marradi's clutches was Toby Longdirk.

Unless he had been the one to betray her.

CHAPTER THREE

The conclave was a disaster. Hour by hour it became more obvious that the cities would never agree, and the Khan's intervention had only made things worse, because Sartaq knew nothing, his advisors were incompetent, and every one of them wanted to meddle. Nevil would be receiving very encouraging reports from his agents.

The agony was that it should have worked. The men Toby had invited had all come: Giovanni Alfredo, Ercole Abonio, Bruno Villari from Rome — whose only good quality was that he fought like three rabid badgers — and from Naples, Egano Gioberti, Jules Desjardins, and even Paride Mezzo, the collaterale, who had ridden all the way in agony, knowing he was dying but anxious to do his duty to the end. All for nothing! Even the Swiss had responded. On the second day Beltramo di Nerbona rode in at the head of a delegation from no less than ten of the thirteen cantons, which was an astonishing show of cooperation. They left before dawn. They knew a lost cause when they saw one.

At first Toby assumed that the senior delegates would be able to meet privately together, ignoring all the hangers-on and political parasites, but even that proved to be impossible. Every man had a spy or two at his shoulder put there by his own government, quite apart from the dozen or so others assigned to him by other states — at times the gramarye in the air made the hob itch so much that Toby could hardly think. Hundreds of minor condottieri and would-be condottieri swarmed like mosquitoes, all trying to gain promotion by signing on with one of the major states or larger companies, while the Tartar officials and innumerable Italian politicians just kept getting in the way. It was a madhouse, worse than juggling beehives.

The meetings and conferences were all held in public. No one knew who was supposed to be included, so everyone turned up rather than insult the Khan's representatives. Neguder was brought all the way from Florence in a litter and carried back again three days later, having not sobered up once. He slept on a throne as his interpreter read his speech again, the same speech he had given in Florence, while all the senior soldiers in Italy and half the second-string politicians crouched with their noses on the floor.

On the second day there was almost a riot. Nevil would certainly be told about the two cardinals who turned up and were very nearly hanged on a tree by enraged mercenaries. The Don Ramon Company was far from alone in being short of hexers, but the College remained obdurate. Rome's own Captain-General Villari admitted that he lacked adequate spiritual protection and did not intend to move his forces far from the walls of the Eternal City itself.

* * *

Sartaq arrived about noon on that last day. He had sent no warning, so the sight of the long procession trotting up the slope to the villa with pennants flying and armor flashing threw the whole conference into panic. Fortunately Toby was one of the first to notice, and with Hamish's help he organized a makeshift guard of honor on the steps — military leaders on one side, politicians on the other. There was barely even time to argue about precedence. One portly priore did try to move closer to the top, but after Toby picked him up and carried him back down to where Hamish had put him there was no more trouble.

The grand parade halted; the prince dismounted. One of the Tartar courtiers had emerged from the villa to gabble hasty instructions. As Sartaq reached the start of the honor guard, everyone knelt and touched his face to the ground. Because Florence was hosting the conclave, Hamish had put the don at the top of the steps, with old Cecco de' Carisendi opposite him. Toby crouched beside the don for what seemed like a very long time as the prince paced up the steps, and he was hard put to contain a rising tide of anger. He could almost dream of giving in to his frustration and letting the hob go on a rampage, blasting and smiting everything in sight. All his work was being wasted, his efforts balked. Surely there had never been a more useless council of war in the history of war itself! Men who ought to be preparing for a terrible struggle were being humiliated to honor a stripling foreigner whose only qualification was that he claimed to be descended from some notable butchers three hundred years ago. The darughachi who had been sent to save Italy was destroying it, and Italy was letting it happen.

Temptation itched like nettle rash. The Don Ramon Company controlled the villa and would follow Longdirk's orders. He could put the prince under arrest and declare Italy free of the Khan's hegemony. At best the states