Demon Rider

and withered.

'Come here, Tobias.'

Toby did not stand. He scrabbled forward until he knelt before the friar. 'Brother?'

'Will you trust me, Tobias?' Bernat's dark eyes were somber and yet somehow menacing.

'Trust you? To do what?'

'To look into your soul.'

Toby felt a chill of alarm. He did not know the source or the limits of the friar's strange powers, and who would dare let his soul be examined? Everyone has secrets.

'Is this necessary?'

'It is vital for all of us, especially for you. You trusted me to heal your body, my son.'

'You mean you can heal my soul now?'

'No. But I may be able to tell how badly it has been damaged.'

'Then look wherever you can.'

'Relax. Do not resist.' The friar clasped Toby's shoulders in his bony hands. For a moment he just stared into his eyes. Then, inexplicably, he was staring inside him.

Toby could feel that needle-sharp gaze peering, probing, slipping gently past his defenses, bypassing all the walls he had raised against a pitiless world, prying into corners he had walled off even from himself, uncovering secrets he had tried to forget and things he did not want to know. Physically he seemed to be frozen, unable to move a finger in that frail grasp, and yet he felt himself balling mental fists, preparing to smash the intruder and drive him out before he could steal away his soul. He fought against the impulse. He forced himself to retreat, to submit as layer after layer was stripped away. His body shook with effort, his face streamed with sweat. He was being violated. He could not tell what odious truths were being uncovered, only that the innermost cavities of his being were being opened and inspected, that he was naked, flayed, dissected. Then, finally, in the deepest, darkest cellar of his mind, something else stirred. Something unknown roused and began opening a last door, preparing to emerge and meet the intruder. He had no idea what shape it might be, but he sensed the friar's alarm, his efforts to repel this horror and keep it caged. Bernat's eyes burned with effort, but it was not enough. Shuddering, Toby threw his own will and weight into the struggle, and the two of them forced the door closed together.

Brother Bernat sighed and released him.

Toby sank back on his heels, shaking and only now aware that he was sobbing, tears cascading down his cheeks. He wondered what everyone else must think of him.

The old friar sat down again, steadied by a hand from Father Guillem. He rubbed his eyes as if they ached.

'Well?' barked the monk.

'He is not guiltless. Yet the choice he had to make tonight was a very hard one. It may be that he chose the lesser way, but I cannot judge him, because I have never had to make that same choice. He means what he has been telling us.' The friar looked at Pepita, but she was still sleeping soundly and he did not try to take her back.

'What did you see?' Toby cried.

The old man regarded him sadly. 'I saw that you are still who you think you are, my son, but only just. You came close tonight to becoming something else, and if you ever travel that road again, you must not expect to return.'

The tent was very quiet.

Toby pulled himself together as well as he could, although his skin crawled. He could see Hamish nodding as if the old friar had merely confirmed his own suspicions.

Guillem muttered something about 'taking a crazy risk,' and Bernat smiled wearily.

Now where did they stand? This had gone on too long.

'So you will come with me, Brother?'

The friar nodded. 'That seems to offer the path of least violence. I will not willingly provoke a blood feud, and I dread what may happen if the Germans send more men after you.'

'Father Guillem?'

The monk scowled. 'It violates everything I believe in to condone such a crime and let the perpetrator escape, but the alternative may bring more trouble, and to innocent people, too. Yes, if everyone agrees to accompany you, then I will not refuse.'

'I will not be the only holdout either,' Josep said quietly.

Toby gave him a grateful smile. But what of the don? He was the hired guard, he had even helped fight the landsknechte, so why was he remaining aloof from the debate? His attentions to Senora de Gomez were becoming perilously close to indecent. These people depended on their hidalgo for leadership. If he and Brother Bernat both supported Toby, surely the rest would follow.

'Senor? Don Ramon?'

'Ah!' The don looked up and beamed. 'Finished your pep talk to the troops, Campeador? Good.' He released his companion and sprang to his feet to address the company. 'At ease. Tonight we won a signal victory against greatly superior forces, and Campeador Longdirk in particular distinguished himself and deserves all our thanks. We are indeed fortunate to have an officer of his talents and courage fighting alongside us. This was a noble engagement in which we inflicted heavy losses at no cost whatsoever to ourselves and took significant quantities of booty, which will be distributed in the customary fashion. Alas, the enemy still outnumbers us. We shall outflank him by going upriver to Lerida and circling around to strike a decisive blow from the north. Now that our supply and transportation difficulties have been overcome, I anticipate that our progress will be greatly expedited. I rely on your continued enthusiastic and brave service in the future as I have in the past. That's all. Carry on, Campeador.'

Apparently it was to be unanimous. Bewildered, Toby looked to Hamish, who shook his head disbelievingly and then managed to smile.

PART SIX Alumbradismo

CHAPTER ONE

Over the gray scrub uplands of La Mancha, stretched out to the bottom of the somber, clouded sky, trotted a line of twenty horses, fourteen of them with riders, the rest bearing baggage.

Ah, they were a fine sight! Blisters and aches were healing, even Josep rarely fell off these days, and the pilgrims believed in themselves. Watching them come in the low light of evening, Toby could relish a niggle of pride that he knew would appall Father Guillem. They were traveling in far better style now than they had when they first met Toby Longdirk, and he had a shameful inclination to give himself some credit for that, even if he would never mention it to anyone else. Admittedly, his success had been bought at the price of some three dozen lives, but if kings and generals could be praised for victories and booty, then why shouldn't he? The landsknechte had gained their wealth by looting, so he had merely returned some of it to Spanish ownership. Father Guillem did not approve of such views, but most of the others did.

They had passed Tortosa in the night and carried on up the valley of the Ebro. The interior had not suffered from the war as badly as the coast had. Already houses were being rebuilt and there was traffic on the byways, the life of the land thrusting out shoots as men plowed and pruned and herded. Having ample provisions, the pilgrims had ridden by the scattered settlements without stopping, and in four days no one had contested their