his innumerable deeds of valor, superlative breeding, and legendary prestige among knights and thus we are honored beyond measure to find ourselves in the awesome presence of Don Ramon de Nunez y Pardo.'
The squire's eyes bulged and his jaw fell open.
Even Don Ramon raised a coppery eyebrow.
Beautifully done, Master Campbell! Taking his cue from Hamish, Toby bowed very low.
'The wench, Francisco?' Don Ramon murmured. Then louder: 'Inquire of what sort is yonder fair damsel, so that, if she be worthy, a gentleman may pay homage to her beauty.'
'Sirs—'
'Pray inform his magnificence,' said Hamish, 'that he is in the presence of the exalted and matchless but most unfortunate Dona Gracia de Gomez.' (Who uttered a most un-exalted gulp at hearing herself thus promoted to the nobility.) 'The noble lady, racked by innumerable misfortunes, is currently on pilgrimage to the monastery of Montserrat.'
Don Ramon raised the other eyebrow also. For a moment he stared dubiously at the bottle hung around the damsel's neck, then he grounded the butt of his lance. Francisco hobbled over to hold it and take the destrier's reins, as if that ancient lump would ever move of its own volition.
Don Ramon dismounted in a bold leap and strode across to Gracia with the litheness of a stag, ignoring Toby and Hamish, although they were still armed and he was not. When he had gone past, they could see the heraldry on his shield, which depicted many quarterings, mostly white butterflies on red and blue, daisies on yellow. He sank to his knees and swept off his infantryman's helmet to uncover rich auburn locks reaching to his shoulders.
'Most noble lady, I am enraptured to behold this wilderness enriched by your unparalleled beauty, a loveliness such as I have encountered before only in the songs of the greater poets, and which must certainly be coupled with great elevation of birth and perfect nobility of soul. Reassure me, I beg you, that these yokels who seemingly attend you are indeed thralls in your service and not wayfaring ruffians who have in any way caused you distress. Tell me that they as much as brought a blush to your cheek by a crude word, and I shall instantly perform justice upon their bodies with my sword.'
He would have to get to his sword first, Toby thought, fingering his staff.
Gracia shook her head violently, being apparently beyond speech as she stared down at the handsome young caballero. Her silence did not perturb him in the slightest.
'If you so implore mercy for them, sweet lady, then I can refuse you nothing. But surely the good spirits have blessed me today, because I myself am on my way to Montserrat, accompanied as you may see by a modest train of a hundred or so retainers. I beg you that you will consent to let me escort you, so that you may travel in more safety, greater comfort, and company considerably more appropriate to your noble station and personal beauty.'
Toby looked again at the straggle of pilgrims trailing down the valley. Then he looked at Hamish, Hamish at Toby, both of them at the squire, and all three shrugged together. Dona Gracia managed to mumble some words of consent.
'Then, most dear lady, it is my dearest hope that you will agree to sup with us tonight in my pavilion, where my attendants will spread a table proper to your genteel taste, my bards and entertainers will seek to amuse you with music, and you will regale our courtly company with your lovely presence and delicate conversation.'
'But, senor… I have nothing to wear!
'A trifle, honored lady! My mistress of the wardrobe will see that you are provided with fitting raiment. You will not refuse me, else surely I must die of a broken heart!'
'No! I mean, yes. I mean I shall be honored beyond words.'
'Till tonight then. Ah, how slowly the minutes will drag!' Don Ramon kissed her fingers, flowed upright, and withdrew backward, bowing three times. Having paid his respects to the newly ennobled Dona Gracia, he spun around and paced back to his horse, which had not moved a muscle except to continue its strident breathing. He took his lance from his squire and — despite his heavy cuirass and shield — vaulted into the high saddle as smoothly as any professional acrobat.
Hamish whistled softly and shot a wondering glance at Toby.
'Francisco,' the don declaimed, 'the superlative Dona Gracia will be joining our train. See that she is properly furnished with attendants and suitable quarters. As for her retainers…' He eyed the retainers with distaste. 'Question them straightly and establish whether they are honest men or no better than they appear. If they are mere vagabonds, then slit their ears, administer a sound beating, and let them go. However, if they do have some merit, you may enroll them in our retinue with whatever standings their experience and abilities may justify. Have them clad in our livery, outfitted with proper equipage and weapons, and issued the customary rations. I shall accept their oaths of fealty later.'
Hamish whispered, 'Steady!' and Toby unclenched his fists on his staff.
Turning his horse and spurring it to a lumbering walk, Don Ramon headed for the rest of his companions, who had continued on down the valley. The others watched him go until he was safely out of earshot.
'Did he by any chance,' Toby inquired, 'recently fall off that mountain of dog food and land on his head?'
The old squire chuckled and shook his head. 'Not at all. Will you accompany me, senora, senores?' He set off on foot, leading his pony. Gracia moved close to Toby as the men took up their packs and followed. She seemed understandably bewildered, so he smiled at her and she brightened.
'You mean he has always been like that?' asked Hamish, wearing the owlish expression he displayed when faced with a knotty problem.
'I am Francisco. You have the advantage of me, senor.'
'Sorry. I am Jaume Campbell i Campbell. My large friend is Tobias Longdirk i Campbell… and Senora de Gomez. Everything else was true.' Jaume? Diego had translated himself again, this time into Catalan.
'I am honored to make your acquaintances. Let me put it this way, Senor Jaume. If you had a friend with a distressing disfigurement — a cast in one eye, for example would you draw attention to it by commenting?'
'Of course not.'
The old man chuckled, high-pitched. 'Then you would likewise be reluctant to mention any temporary misfortune he might be revealing — a lapse in the quality of his attire, for example?'
'I suppose so.'
'Nor would you expect him to discuss it. So you understand! And surely I need not mention that a nobleman of impeccable ancestry, who can trace his line back to the later Caesars, will naturally be touchy on such matters. It would be extremely dangerous to emphasize any trifling discrepancies between what you may falsely perceive to be Don Ramon's current circumstances and the conditions to which he is entitled by his birthright.'
Hamish walked on in silence, staring fixedly ahead, looking as if he had just met a dragon selling souvenirs.
'You are bound for Montserrat, though?' Toby asked.
The old man beamed up at him. 'To Barcelona, which is very close. And if certain persons in our company are so deluded as to believe that they hired a strong young man with a sword to defend them on their journey, that may not be how everyone views the same arrangement.'
Paid guard… mercenary soldier… wages?
'A nobleman could never stoop to a crass commercial arrangement of that sort!'
'Of course not. I see you are a man of discernment, Senior Tobias.'
'The weapons and livery you are to issue to us?'
'They look very splendid on you, senor.'
This was madness. Why, therefore, should Baron Oreste want Don Ramon's muddled aristocratic head chopped off? Unfortunately, that might become clear in due course.
CHAPTER FOUR
