against Vilhelmas. Not knowing the rules, I broke every one of them. So now the whole thing has gone crazy… Also, I should have made this clearer to all of you sooner, but Speakers can spy on anyone they know personally. That means that dear Alojz could have been listening in on everything you were saying here earlier, when you had Dali and the others with you.”
Otto wondered if the world had really gone mad or if Wulf was just opening his eyes to the way it had been all along. Thirty-six wasn’t really old, not for a noble. A peasant or a laborer might be worn out by then, and f {y t to ew of them reached forty, but the rich aged more slowly. Still, it was close to ten years since Ottokar Magnus had ridden into battle. Now, seeing how these two youngsters flamed around, he felt that he had somehow grown ancient. He didn’t know when. His father and grandfather had grumbled about firearms ruining warfare, and now he found himself thinking much the same about this Satanism, although it had probably been around much longer.
“Just what were you saying to my wife on the curtain wall?” Anton said.
“Stop!” Otto snapped. “Don’t answer that, Wulf. Anton, we have discussed that, and the matter is closed. I have absolute faith that you have no reason to distrust-”
“I told her,” Wulf said softly, “that I love her with all my heart, which she already knew, and we both agreed that there could never be anything between us because neither of us would betray you and her marriage. She is a good and faithful wife to you. So far. Try and be worthy of her, if you can. Can’t you think of anything else?”
Anton fumed in silence.
Otto said, “Why are you in that armor? What are you planning?”
Wulf smiled, sort of. “I came to borrow a sword.”
Otto rose to unbuckle his sword belt. “Who are you supposed to be in that outfit, and what are you up to?”
“I don’t know who I am.” Wulf’s smile was fleeting. “I robbed a dead man. What I am doing I should rather not say, just in case.”
He must be on his way to take a look at the Dragon and try to bollix it up. Otto looked to Anton and wondered if he realized that Wulf was his only hope of living to see another Friday. If he surrendered Gallant, Zdenek would chop his head off.
“Anything we can do to help?” Otto asked.
“Just lend me this.” Wulf took the sword. “I can see it’s too long for me, but I only need it for show.”
“God be with you, then.”
“God or someone else.” For a moment he stared at the wall. “Havel’s men are attacking. Looks like Vlad’s withdrawing. Lord save us, but the big fellow can move when he needs to! He could outrun crossbow bolts.”
“Withdrawal was in the plan,” Otto said. “We want no unnecessary losses.”
“There’s been some. The Hound is making war on his own king’s flag.”
“Sorry to hear it. I hoped he wouldn’t.”
“He’s there in person. Alojz Zauber is… somewhere else. Indoors. Not sure where. Madlenka is still tending the wounded.”
Otto said, “Thanks for that information. Good luck, Wulf.”
The family’s sole surviving Speaker smiled ruefully. “Don’t expect miracles. I may manage to weaken a bridge or break an axel on a wagon, but I won’t be able to damage the Dragon itself.” He looked to Anton. “All I can do is buy you some time.”
“Really?” Anton snapped. “When the Wends’ ladders collapsed this morning-that was very suspicious. Very convenient for us, but not natural, more like a miracle. Did you have anything to do with that?”
Wulf smiled but did not answer. He took a step forward and disappeared.
Otto sank back on his chair and rubbed his temples. His head felt as if it were lead-plated. “You mustn’t ask that sort of question.”
“Why not? Tell me why not! I know the answer. What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t, and I don’t want to. I do know he’s fighting, too, but his is a different sort of war, Anton. The whole thing is disgusting, but we didn’t start it. And Wulf’s power doesn’t make him immortal. Remember that three Speakers died yesterday. He’s a brave lad, and he’s on our side.”
Anton drew himself up to his full height and glared down at him, hi s water-buffalo mustache bristling.
“Well, I know those Wends on the ladders were our enemies, but I think they were all brave men, too. And honorable men, trying to fight an honest battle with muscle and courage and swords, as men have always fought. And I think the devil gathered them up and took them straight to hell, and he did it because Wulf asked him to.”
Otto did not try to argue.
CHAPTER 12
Castle Gallant’s stables were far smaller than Dobkov’s and now they were almost deserted, for half the Gallant herd had been taken prisoner when the Wends captured the Long Valley outpost. Wulf stepped out of an empty stall. He had hoped that there would be no hands present, but two young boys were busily shoveling. They looked up in surprise as he approached.
“I’m Squire Wulfgang,” he said. “The count’s brother. Saddle up Copper and Balaam for me. Right away.”
They would never argue with a nobleman, and were too young to ask where he thought he was going when both gates were besieged. Happy to be useful while forced to miss out on the war, th ~
Copper was glad to see him, assuming that Wulf had come to rescue him from the noisome cell and take him out to run over the hills. Balaam, Otto’s old courser, had disliked Wulf ever since an afternoon seven years ago when Wulf had ridden him on a bet, much to Balaam’s disgust and Otto’s astonishment. That feat had won him the first florin he ever owned, and the years since had been kinder on the boy than the steed. Now Balaam was practically dog food and Wulf was… Wulfgang was whatever Wulfgang was now. Even yesterday he had worried about controlling more than one horse on a trip through limbo. Now he knew better. As Sybilla had implied, anything was possible to a Speaker.
– Calm, he told Balaam. Be happy! The old warrior raised his ears and put away his teeth. Wulf patted his neck and didn’t lose a finger. He had achieved his first tweak! He ought to take his own advice, though, because his heart was thumping much faster than a Magnus heart was supposed to thump. For the first time in his life he was going forth to meet a foe.
When all was ready, he vaulted onto Copper’s back and accepted Balaam’s reins. He dropped a coin into an eager hand. “That’s the only one I’ve got on me,” he said. “Share it, half each.”
He rode off with shrill thanks ringing in his ears. The bailey was almost deserted, but not quite, and it was overlooked by many windows. He rode across to the dark tunnel that led out to the street.
Except in his case. He made it lead out to Long Valley, emerging in an icy blast of wind in the pinewood where he had stood when Marek shot down Vilhelmas-was that only last night? It felt like weeks ago. The log wall of the barracks building was behind him, windowless on this side. The horses whinnied and he calmed them with a thought as he reined in. There was no one near to observe, no smoke emerging from the chimney. The air smelled less of pine sap than it had in the night, more of mud and animals. Peace had given way to the squeal of axles and familiar torrents of abuse from teamsters driving ornery beasts over rough ground.
The scenery beyond the pine grove had changed since last night, too. Tents and pavilions had gone. Now steady processions of oxcarts and horse-drawn wagons were creaking by on either side of the trees, heading north. About as many empties were going south, suggesting that the Wends were still ferrying in men and supplies over the lake. And they must be Wends. Count Pelrelm could never raise an army of this size. He might be in league with them, but they were not his own men. Wipe one theory off the slate.
Sybilla materialized alongside Balaam and pouted down in disgust at the needle-filled mud under her pretty shoes. The old horse barely flickered an ear. Before Wulf could dismount to help her, she slid a foot into the stirrup and swung up into the saddle in a flaming whirl of cloth of gold and a flash of her halo. She shot Wulf a smile of triumph and expertly adjusted the stirrup leathers. Suitably impressed by the cardinal’s daughter, he
