Demon Rider

are not evil in the way demons—'

She dismissed his ignorance with a wave of her fan. 'These heretics sacrifice children to the elementals!'

Oh, that was ridiculous! What interest would a wild elemental have in human sacrifice? They just wanted to be left alone.

'I never heard of this terrible thing, madame. For what purpose do they do it?'

She rolled her eyes. 'For power, of course! It is said that they make themselves immortal.'

This was not even gossip — it was pure malice. He did not believe a word of it. 'That is a most serious charge, madame. Have you any evidence?'

Senora Collel resented his doubts and scowled at him. 'I told you I only had suspicions! But there is something very strange about that Brother Bernat and his sweet little ward. You speak with him and then come and tell me if you do not sense something very strange about him.'

'I confess I already have sensed that he is an unusual man.'

'There! What did I tell you!'

Hamish had never mentioned alumbradismo, and if Hamish did not know of it, then it had never been written in any book. Perhaps it was some sort of local superstition.

'I shall keep your warning in mind,' Toby said. 'Now tell me of the most interesting person in this company.'

'The don, you mean?'

'Of course not. Madame Collel.'

She laughed raucously. 'So you can flatter? Ah, the woman is a terrible harridan! She was born very poor and married a man much older than herself, disgustingly rich. She has outlived three husbands. It is a well-known scandal that her household always includes a well-built young steward, whom she pays well to keep her servants in line and herself content. It is said she usually tires of these staunch youngsters after a year or so, but dismisses them with a generous requital. Have you employment in mind when you reach Barcelona, Tobias?'

He gaped at her brazen smirk. He had no idea how much she was mocking him, or if her monstrous suggestion could be at least partly serious. 'Monsieur Brusi has already offered to make me a porter in his warehouse.'

'I pay better, but the work might be harder.'

It would indeed! 'I shall keep this generous offer in mind, madame.'

She chuckled. 'But I do not roll in the undergrowth like Eulalia. If you wish to try out for the post, you will have to wait until we arrive. What do you think of the don?'

'He puzzles me. Is he as deluded as he pretends?'

'How can he be, unless he lost his wits in battle? He is reputed to be a good fighter.' From her that was probably significant praise, but she said no more about Don Ramon. She frowned. 'There is something very odd about his squire, also. He bothers me more.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

By sunset they were almost out of the hills. Hamish had located an excellent campsite, sheltered by cypress trees and furnished with a small pool trapped behind an earthen dam. The water was slime-covered and bad- smelling, but it would serve to wash off the sweat and dust of the day. When Toby tried to borrow the Brusi bucket, he was reminded of his promise to curry the horses and informed that his fee for that could be the rent of the bucket. The better one came to know Brusi Senior, the nastier the old prune seemed, but the only other bucket belonged to Rafael and Miguel and the price of that one would be the captain's heart on a stick. What a jolly lot they all were!

While Hamish was building a communal fire, therefore, Toby gave Josep a lesson in caring for horses. Eulalia attended to Senora Collel's and obviously knew what she was doing — a farmer's daughter, no doubt. Each little group sat under its own tree, well apart from the others. Pepita wandered around being friends with everyone, but she was a notable exception, because there was still no sign of the adults cooperating. Rafael and Miguel had marched up to the Brusi camp and carted away their possessions without a word of thanks to anyone.

Even the two clerics remained aloof. Toby had talked with them on the march, receiving a severe lecture from Father Guillem on the virtue of peaceable methods and the iniquity of drawing a sword on unarmed peasants. Toby refrained from pointing out that the procession had moved a lot faster since his bullying.

Brother Bernat was courteous, inquisitive, and inscrutable. At times his talk rambled and he seemed almost senile, but his questions were sharp enough. Anything he said about himself was trivial, as when Toby congratulated him on keeping up with youngsters like him.

'I am a friar, Tobias. I have been walking all my life. I would take you on any day and walk your feet off. But you have walked all the way from Scotland? By what route did you come?' Yes, Brother Bernat was much more likeable than the monk, and not as feeble and feathery as he pretended.

When the horses were seen to, Toby collected the bucket and headed for the pool. The sky was darkening already, and the long day had left him bone weary. It was not over yet, of course. He was accosted by the don, on foot but still wearing his cuirass and now bearing his great broadsword as well. He held out two wooden whistles hung on thongs.

'You will post the order of the watch, Captain.'

Toby accepted the whistles and made a rapid calculation. Two would be the minimum to guard so many horses, and he was surprised the don had not ordered him to post twenty. How many men could he call on, though?

Then Don Ramon added: 'Leave orders for my personal staff to be awakened two hours before dawn, so they can prepare my bath and so on.'

'As the hidalgo commands,' Toby answered gratefully. He assumed that meant the don and Francisco would take the final watch, so the night could be divided into five, which would be a great deal easier than the last few nights had been. He would not trust Rafael and Miguel together, though, and probably not the two Brusis, either. It would take some thought…

'We must assume, Captain, that the Fiend has learned from his demons that I have taken the field against him. He will undoubtedly hasten here in strength to oppose me. You should anticipate a surprise attack before dawn.'

Toby drew a quick breath and said, 'This is serious news, senor. I shall pass it on to the officers and take the necessary precautions.'

That was easier than trying to explain to the madman that he himself, Toby Longdirk — pauper, smuggler, mercenary, and habitual odd-job man — had been the reason King Nevil had invaded Spain the first time…

He filled the bucket and went off into the dark trees to clean up. He had barely removed his doublet and shirt when he heard a quiet rustle behind him and a high-pitched voice murmured:

'Captain?'

He stayed where he was, on his knees, annoyed at this intrusion. 'You need the bucket, Senor Francisco? I shall be only a few moments.'

'Oh. No. Or not yet.' The old squire cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. 'I was wondering… That is, I propose…'

Toby sat back on his heels with an inward sigh. 'Whatever it is, I shan't tell the don.'

'Ah, you are understanding. I should like to buy some provisions, if you have some to spare. You see — you will recall — Ramon invited Dona Gracia to dine with him this evening. He has ordered me to prepare a banquet in her honor, but this will leave me a little shorter of supplies than… He does not realize…'

Toby's mind jumped back to the siesta break. Those two had ridden off alone. He turned to stare at the old man.

'Have you anything left at all?'

'Oh, yes! I mean… Well, not a great deal…'