Demon Knight

Unplace.

There was a sixth force in the Allied army, but it was far away…

'Why are you laughing, Little One?'

'Did I laugh? I was remembering the Swiss contingent arriving at the conclave, that's all. I hadn't taken old Beltramo into my confidence at that point. When I told him he was not welcome, the expression on his face was most wonderful to behold!' The crusty old soldier had worked miracles to wring agreement out of the cantons and hammer together the combined delegation, but when he arrived unexpectedly at Cafaggiolo, Toby's first reaction had been less than tactful. Of course the situation had been clarified at that night's secret session — shielded from spies by Maestro Fischart — and the Swiss had enthusiastically agreed to join the deception. They had stormed off in feigned disgust the next morning, and undoubtedly Nevil's agents had informed him that he need not fear Swiss intervention. So today his lines of communication and the garrisons he had left to hold the Alpine passes would be chewed to rags. If he did manage to pull his forces loose from the Florentine trap, he would find the door locked behind him and no way home.

'So you have won?' asked the owl.

'Won? Won? No! Not yet. We've hardly started. We're still badly outnumbered, and Nevil has beaten long odds before now. But if the don can seize the guns on the hill, then Florence is safe. If the Milanese and the Neapolitans can take the Fiend's bridges, we'll have cut his army in half. In an hour or so we'll know the shape of the battle and who needs help. Why do you only speak in the Unplace?'

'Is this not part of the spirit world?'

Somewhere a demon was loosed. The hex struck. Toby screamed and fell off Smeorach's back.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lisa awoke with her mother having hysterics beside her left ear because guns were firing and that meant the Fiend was coming to get them. Possibly so, but a screaming panic seemed an entirely inappropriate reaction, at least when there was no sturdy Hamish around to apply the treatment of choice. Grabbing Blanche by the shoulders, she administered a thorough shaking. Had this treatment not worked, she would probably have worked up to face-slapping, but that proved unnecessary. Silence fell.

There were cannons firing, and that was scary. 'Let us get dressed,' she said, 'and go down and find out what's happening.' She scrambled out of bed and rang for help, although she suspected it might not appear. 'Come, Mother!'

There was only room in her life for so many emergencies, and she had not finished dealing with yesterday's yet. Was she or was she not married? The contract had been publicly signed and sealed, which ought to mean yes she was. But the, um, private parts of the arrangement had not been completed, and probably that meant no she wasn't. She rummaged through a chest in search of fresh linen.

'I hope we can find out today,' she said as she tossed her findings in her mother's direction, 'whether I am a guest in this place — and if so who our host is — or if I own it.'

'I just hope it doesn't get burned down before sundown,' Blanche retorted, struggling to dress herself without the assistance she had enjoyed all her life. The guns were growing louder.

Had any Queen of England ever been tortured to death by her own father?

* * *

Presentable, if not quite as well groomed as was their wont, they descended the great staircase hand in hand and were greeted by a low bow from Prince Sartaq, who was wearing riding boots and had just handed his cloak off to an attendant. His two villainous-looking shamans and half a dozen of his Tartar guards skulked in the background.

'Greetings, ladies! I trust you rested well after yesterday's harrowing experiences?'

'What news?' Blanche demanded.

His smiles made his eyes disappear altogether. 'Good news! Excellent news. The Fiend has been dealt such a blow as he never dreamed of. Come, let us together break our fast, and I will tell you all about this miracle.'

* * *

Lisa was still not sure whether she liked the Khan's son or not. She had been prejudiced against him by Hamish, who had foamed at the mouth when denouncing the prince's meddling. An idiot, he had said — a libertine who wantoned with loose women when he should be attending to business, a procrastinating popinjay who claimed the right to make all the decisions and then refused to make them or made stupid ones, and so on, with other complaints fortunately being expressed in languages she did not comprehend. Now she had lived in the same palace as Sartaq for almost a month, and he did not seem so contemptible. He had insisted they adopt the royal habit of addressing each other as 'cousin' to avoid awkward considerations of precedence. He could be witty and even charming once you got used to his horse-stepped-on-it face. From the neck down he was impressive. Although Mother had mumbled some embarrassed warnings, and the chambermaids had told very scandalous stories, he had behaved like a perfect gentleman to Lisa. Despite his lack of years, he had more self-esteem than a peacock and could brandish his father's authority like a battle-ax when he chose. He had taken charge of the whole palace after Pietro's death and evidently still retained it.

Now he commandeered a minor dining room and demanded fast service. While waiting for results, he explained: 'The Fiend has fallen into a brilliantly planned trap. Yesterday he brought his two armies together at Florence. This morning he was taken by surprise when comandante Longdirk attacked. The battle still rages, but I am confident that Nevil is doomed to a major defeat.'

'Praise to the spirits!' Blanche cried, dramatically clasping hands under her chin.

'So the big man really is a military genius?' Lisa inquired uneasily. 'Did he burn any forests this time?'

Sartaq glanced at her inscrutably. 'No, Cousin, but he conceived one of the greatest deceptions in the history of warfare, and then managed to pull it off. With a certain amount of assistance, I add in all modesty. Let us sit here, Aunt. We have still found no trace of Lucrezia the wicked. Perchance we never shall. No one knows who will succeed to leadership of the family and city. I expect the cardinal will make the final decision. This need no longer concern us, for Florence has served its purpose.'

As soon as food had been laid out, he shooed the servants away. 'I shall myself wait upon you, ladies,' he declared, 'for I have secrets to impart unheard. Red wine or white?'

When he had poured wine for everyone, he settled on the other side of the table. 'A toast! I am confident that the threat to Italy is over. Nevil has met his match at last.' He raised his goblet in salute. 'To his fall and destruction!'

'To the fall and destruction of Rhym.' Blanche had recovered much of her color, although she was not yet about to smile at anything.

'Ah, true! Forgive me. If your unfortunate husband can be restored, then we shall all applaud that outcome. However…' Seemingly quite unabashed by his slip, he looked thoughtfully at Lisa.

She dropped her eyes and noticed the basket of rolls in front of her. One day she had told Pietro how much she had enjoyed the French-style rolls she had met in Savoy, and they had appeared on every table since, fresh baked. She would not pretend she had ever loved him, but he had been a considerate host and a generous fiance. She had grown accustomed to the prospect of being married to him, comfortable with it. He had not deserved that shameful death. She knew she might yet do a great deal worse in the husband market than Pietro Marradi.

The prince was still appraising her like a dealer at a horse fair.

'Am I now a widow, Cousin?'

Sartaq chuckled. 'You mean can you claim a share of the Marradi fortune? I doubt it very much. Even if there is a way for a woman to own property in this city, which I doubt, and if you can hire a skilled advocate to take your case, which I doubt even more, to expect any Florentine court to rule in your favor would be optimism verging on fatuity. Whatever gifts the Magnificent gave you will still be yours, I expect, and you can probably extract a generous settlement if you just promise to go away and stay away, so you are a wealthy woman by most standards. Without even counting your claim to England, I mean.'

'But it is my claim to England that is chained around my ankle, isn't it?'