Demon Rider

was distracted somehow. Did she come and talk with you?'

Hamish tried to shake his head and winced. 'Don't remember,' he croaked.

'Then they must have bribed her!' the don decided. 'If we search her, we shall find some gold chains, I expect.'

Eulalia screeched at this outrage to her honor and appealed to Senora Collel. The senora told her to shut her face. Gracia, who had been standing beside her, pointedly moved away.

'That wouldn't prove much,' Toby said. 'She may have looted some from the landsknechte.' He had a strong suspicion that Eulalia had been helping both Manuel and Raphael enjoy their newfound wealth behind their wives' backs, but he would not say so in front of Hamish.

Again Eulalia erupted in torrents of Catalan. The senora silenced her with a slap as loud as a gunshot.

Hamish's eyes had opened wide. He turned to look at Eulalia and suddenly produced a strange sound, somewhere between a laugh and a choke. 'I do remember! She came and told me she's with child.'

'She is lying,' Senora Collel declaimed. 'I know it.'

True or false, that assertion would certainly have been a potent distraction, and for a moment even the don looked amused. Then he found his anger again. 'Very well, Campeador, we shall let Jaume live. See that he is thoroughly thrashed. We are wasting time. We must hunt down the traitors.'

'No, senor.'

Icy silence.

'Do I hear you correctly?' the don said very quietly.

Lochan na Bi… 'Yes, senor. They will travel at least as fast as we can, and they have several hours' start on us. To chase them would be folly. They have stolen some horses from us, but we stole them in the first place. They do not seem to have taken much else that did not belong to them.'

He waited for contradiction from Josep or Senora Collel, who used their moneybags as pillows, but neither disagreed. Whatever balance Miguel and Rafael still owed on Don Ramon's wages was a debt that must not be mentioned, and his mother had always known that her chances of collecting from them were slim.

But not all wealth was beneath a caballero's dignity. 'You forget the rest of the booty!' the don snapped. 'That belongs to all of us. You, especially, earned your share. They did not.'

A penniless fugitive fleeing from the long arm of Baron Oreste would certainly find a few gold chains useful, but Toby could not accept that he had earned a link of them. It had been the hob who destroyed the landsknechte, not he. The fight had not been honorable, so the prize was tainted and he would shed no tears over losing it. He was probably being stupid again, but that was how he felt.

'We cannot ride down the fugitives without their seeing us coming, senor. They will have ample time to make the evidence disappear before we reach them.'

'We can make them tell where it is!'

'Not I, senor.'

The don's hand was on his sword hilt. The blue eyes flamed madness. 'You are refusing my orders?'

'I am advising the noble hidalgo that to pursue those worthless peasants would be folly. We can reach Montserrat by evening.'

'This a matter of honor you cannot comprehend. We shall pursue the thieves.'

'Not I, senor.'

Day by day Toby had been taking over the leadership of the group. Spirits knew he had not planned to and had done everything he could to preserve the fiction that the hired guard was still in charge, but no one was deceived. Now he had thrown down the gauntlet. It had been inevitable, probably, because he could never tolerate authority for long and was especially incapable of obeying nonsensical orders, but to upstage the deranged caballero was to die for insolence. As the don's great sword slid from its scabbard, his mother caught hold of his arm with both hands.

'Ramon, he is right!'

He froze. He could not have looked more shocked had she stabbed him.

Gracia stepped in front of him. 'Senor, please!' she whispered.

'I agree with the campeador and your noble squire, my son,' Father Guillem boomed. He rolled forward to clap a hairy paw on the don's shoulder. 'What good will be served by a long chase and then bloodshed? As Tobias says, we should merely be trying to steal back stolen goods, and some of us might be hurt in the fight. It will be you and he against the two of them.'

Toby waited, arms folded, doing his breathing exercises. The don just continued to glare at his mother, and she glared right back at him — truly, there was a most admirable lady! At last he opened his hand, the sword dropped back in its scabbard, and death flew away.

He was still insanely furious, though, and he would never forget this insult. 'We must be guided by the counsel of the holy scholar in matters of righteousness. The woman will remain behind, though. She has forfeited any claim on us.'

Eulalia cried out and threw herself on her knees. 'Senores! Senoras! You will not abandon me!'

Hamish opened his mouth—

'No!' Toby barked. 'You owe her nothing. She didn't tell you her lies earlier, did she? She came to distract you when you were on guard. She was in on the plot, Hamish. She set you up so Rafael could cosh you.'

Hamish groaned and buried his face in his arms.

'Senoras!' the don proclaimed. 'Take this harlot over there and strip her. Find out what—'

Instantly Eulalia was gone through the trees, arms and legs flying. Only Toby or the don could run her down and catch her, but that would be beneath the don's dignity, and Toby was glad to see the last of her.

Pepita moved over to Hamish and clasped his head between her hands. 'Let me try to ease your pain, senor.' Everyone else was suddenly made uneasy by this suggestion of gramarye.

'Prepare to move out, Campeador!' The don spun on his heel and stalked away. The others dispersed, and Toby began to consider the problem of catching the remaining horses, because the deserters had removed their hobbles to delay pursuit. Fortunately Smeorach would usually come to his whistle.

Montserrat lay somewhere in these forbidding hills. This was the last day.

CHAPTER THREE

The last day was likely to be the worst. At times Toby could barely see two horses ahead of him, either because the trail was winding through forest or because the fog had closed in like gray bed curtains — and frequently both. The rain varied from annoying to drenching. Once in a while terrain and weather would open up to reveal a breathtaking, unreal landscape, towering almost vertically overhead in bright green slopes and spectacular beetling cliffs whose tops were lost in cloud. It was perfect ambush country.

Father Guillem insisted that there was only one road up this valley and hence no chance of getting lost, but Toby was far less worried about losing his way than he was about the reports of bandits molesting travelers. To send scouts out ahead would be useless in these conditions, even if he had any to send.

One way or another, the pilgrimage was ending. If he could deliver his charges safely to Montserrat, then Pepita, Gracia, and Father Guillem would remain at the monastery, while the others would resume their journey to Barcelona in a day or two. Toby himself would carry on alone, toward France, but here he was very close to Baron Oreste, who must be hunting for him with gramarye.

All day the don rode a few lengths ahead, bearing his lance and shield ready for use. Toby mostly stayed at the rear with the rest of the men, but from time to time he would ride along the line, trying to raise people's spirits. It was hard to keep up a cheerful front in such weather. When he asked Senora Collel to take a turn at leading the packhorses, she refused vehemently.

'I did not entrust myself to the don's protection,' she snapped, 'in order to serve as a mule skinner. Furthermore, I contracted to be escorted directly to Barcelona, not dragged up into these wild hills.'

She was probably looking for an excuse to refuse further payment, and she was undoubtedly annoyed at no longer having a servant to nag and bully. But she had not mentioned hiring Toby as her resident Pretty Boy since