Demon Knight

The fox scratched the side of his muzzle. 'You impress me with this offer, messer Tobias. I know of no other condottiere in all Italy who would submit to such an arrangement, and Nevil will never suspect that you are submitting to it voluntarily. I will not give you my unconditional acceptance now, but let us proceed with the condotta, for we must do that in any case. I shall write to my so-eminent brother on your behalf, while you go ahead and arrange that unfortunate accident to Maestro Fischart. If you can make that appear convincing, and if the College will arm you with the gramarye you need, then I may even agree to tie a noose around my city's neck as you request. Secrecy, above all, will be essential. Who else knows of this plot of yours?'

'Only Oreste and yourself, messer. The Khan knows I want to set a trap, but none of the details. His Eminence the cardinal will have to be told, and eventually the senior military leaders, men like Ercole Abonio and the various captains-general. Less than a dozen, I hope.'

Unexpectedly, the fox chuckled. He rubbed his human hands and ran a long red tongue over his chops. 'This is a wicked game you plan, comandante! I confess I enjoy such sport, and I am delighted to have misjudged you — as I hope the Fiend will misjudge you — for I confess I suspected your success at Trent was merely a fluke. Forgive me if I ask this, though. I have years of practice at such intrigue, but you strike me as a man more inclined to use his fists than his tongue. I shall keep your secret, I promise you, but are you sure that you can?'

'You mean, can I tell lies with a straight face?'

'I am afraid that skill will be an essential ingredient.' The fox showed sharp teeth in a smile.

'No, I cannot. But I told you I have ways of traveling to Rome, messer. I can also invoke gramarye to prevent myself from giving the game away. I can even prevent myself from thinking about it or remembering it when I do not need to.'

'This is dangerous, surely?'

'Life is dangerous, messer. The worst I risk is that I will completely forget the strategy someday when I need to remember it. If you ever think that has happened, Your Magnificence, then you will have to take me aside and remind—'

Toby screamed.

Out! Out! Sorghie, get me out of this!

CHAPTER FIVE

He reeled to his feet and stared out at a world made glorious by morning — the broad valley of the Arno brilliant green under the ethereal light of Tuscany, the lumpy hills in their rich garb of olive trees and mulberries, misty peaks beyond rolling off to infinity. He scowled at the disfiguring camps of the enemy ringing the city just out of cannon shot. Already the eastern sky was almost too bright to look upon, heralding the sun. The Allied armies were waiting under their masking gramarye. He had told everyone he would give them the signal before sunup — Ercole, Alfredo, all of them! If he did not appear in time, they would assume that something had gone awry and start withdrawing. Then all chance of a victory would be lost, the great surprise attack would become a panic retreat, disaster.

'You have remembered!' the tutelary said, and there was a sound very much like joy in the normally dead voice.

'Little One, it worked?' Sorghaghtani cried.

'It worked!' He bent to take up his helmet and put it on his head, then he lifted her into the air as he straightened. He kissed her and set her down. 'Thank you! Holiness, thank you, also. Excuse me. I must be about my business.'

He vaulted over the railing into the sky.

By rights he should have bounced three or four times down the steepening curve of the redbrick dome and ended as a disgusting mess on the roof of the nave. He didn't. At about the time he ought to have made his third impact, his boots hit the flagstones of the piazza a couple of spans away from Smeorach, who jerked his head up and rolled his eyes, but who was well used by now to his owner's peculiar abilities. Several early-bird passersby jumped and peered in alarm, unwilling to believe what they had seen. The genuine early birds, the sparrows and pigeons, were less gullible and exploded upward in a wild flapping.

The boy had removed the saddle and laid it on the ground so he could sleep on it, with the reins tied around his wrist. Smeorach's hard tug wakened him; he sat up, bleary-eyed. 'Oh, messer, I am sorry…'

'You did well!' Toby said, untying the knot. 'I don't have time for the saddle. Keep it. It's yours. And this.' He dropped a gold coin, which rang on the stone. It was one of the last of the bagful he had stolen from the Company coffers to use as expense money on his secret journeys.

He vaulted on to Smeorach's back, and Chabi settled on his arm in another whirring of wings. He tried to shake her off. 'You think I'm going hawking? Be off! This is not safe for you!'

'Who is safe today?' she asked in Sorghaghtani's voice.

He had no time to argue with an owl. Hoping he could leave her behind, he kicked in his heels and sent Smeorach bounding forward. The spectators saw the big spotted gelding take off across the piazza like an arrow, but after a very few strides horse, rider, and owl became smoky, transparent, then vanished altogether. The hoofbeats, some later asserted, could be heard for a few moments after that. Most of the good folk fled screaming into the sanctuary and were comforted by the spirit.

From Toby's viewpoint, and possibly Smeorach's, they plunged into a faintly luminescent fog devoid of landmarks or scenery. Iron shoes rang on an endless shiny plain like a dark lake, and their reflection raced along below them.

'Hoo?' the owl screeched, digging talons into the padding on his arm. 'Where is this?'

'Are you Chabi or Sorghaghtani?'

'Who? Do I look like Sorghaghtani? Do I sound like Chabi? What part of the spirit world is this?'

'No part, so far as I know. I call it the Unplace.' He had settled on this as the least distracting dreamscape for his ghostly excursions — not properly demon rides, because Smeorach was not demonized. Smeorach was probably not necessary at all, but he was company, and his presence reassured the people Toby journeyed to meet in the real world. Better a demonized horse than a demonized commander.

He patted Smeorach's neck. 'Faster, lad, faster!' Their speed had nothing to do with him, of course, but the big oaf didn't understand Gaelic anyway. He seemed to enjoy the exercise on the endless flat surface.

'How can you stand it without a drum?' asked the owl-shaman. 'How long must we stay?'

'I never know.' Even the hob could not move him instantaneously. 'I only hope I haven't left it too late.'

Busily using claws and beak, she worked her way up his arm to his shoulder. 'What went wrong, Little One?'

'I blundered. I think I was just too tired.' He had ridden round to all the Allied camps the previous night, returning to Florence just before dawn to do a day's work before he went off to attend Lisa's wedding. As always he had closed off what he thought of as his hob memories, so that he would not need to tell lies to anyone, but in his haste and weariness he must have barred the door too well. He had failed to remember his other existence when he needed to.

Chabi turned her head around, scanning the Unplace. Sometimes she seemed to make complete revolutions with her neck, but that couldn't be right. 'How long have you been coming here?'

'You are Sorghie, aren't you?'

'Who? Why don't you answer my question?'

'Who asks? Since just after Trent. In the middle of the battle, Nevil sent demons after me, and I fought them off. Not only demons, though — a couple of arrows seemed to veer away from me, and once I was charging straight at a cannon and their match went out when they tried to fire it. Later, when I had time to think, I decided I'd been using the hob's powers, but the hob hadn't gone on a rampage. Neither of us has gone insane since, so far as I can tell. The Fillan hob and I are pretty much one and the same now.'

'Did you not tell us that you feared you would turn into a demon incarnate if that happened?' The familiar