daughter.”
Justina’s face darkened. “You’re not supposed to say that! o say thx201D;
“Oh, dear, I forgot! Anyway, Mother sent me to tell you, my lords and ladies, that the Wulfgang situation is out of her hands, so don’t wait up for her.”
When no one else spoke, Madlenka said, “What does she mean by ‘out of her hands’?”
Sybilla sighed. “She didn’t explain exactly, but she was supping with the pope tonight and I was Looking-not all the time, just now and again-and it was quite obvious that His Holiness was refusing to bargain. He regards Wulfgang Magnus as a dangerous homicidal Satanist, and will see him burn if he has to light the pyre himself. Now, if you will excuse me, I will return to the ball. Royalty must not be kept waiting, you know.”
She turned away and vanished like a maltreated soap bubble.
No one was looking at anyone else. This was the end. The Church had Wulf and the pope had decided. Abandon hope.
Eventually Madlenka said, “Can we believe her?”
“Sometimes,” Justina said. “And in this case, yes, because I also Looked in on the pope’s little supper party a couple of times and that was how the conversation was going. Sixtus the Fourth is a very determined man, very inflexible. All popes are, but he’s the hallmark. He has far more falcons at his beck and call than anyone else, so he really doesn’t need another, no matter how effective. He won’t want anyone else to have him, either.” She heaved herself to her feet as if the hour had suddenly grown heavy on her shoulders. “This has been a great day for some, and very bad for many. A pleasure to meet you, my lady.” Giving Madlenka a nod that conveyed no clear message at all, Justina disappeared.
“That concludes the fun,” Vlad said. “Now the business begins, Count. You and I must go and inspect the troops.”
“What business?” Anton stood up, almost as wearily as his great-aunt had.
“Can’t you hear the bells out there, the bands? You have a victory to celebrate. The town and the castle will expect you to turn up everywhere, making speeches and leading extempore prayers. Not to mention decreeing public holidays and thanksgiving. And your report to the Spider must leave at dawn, even if you do know that he knows already.”
“I suppose so.” Anton looked doubtfully at Madlenka. Was she or wasn’t she his wife now?
“Go without me,” she said. “I must check on Mother, and on the infirmary, and it has not been an easy day for me, either.” She was going to bolt the bedroom door.
He probably knew that, but he nodded. “And I have work to do. Good night, my lady.”
amp;t size='#x201C; Personally,” Otto said, “I am going to spend some time in the chapel first. This was Wulfgang’s day. He destroyed the Wends and he pulled the Hound’s teeth. The fact that Gallant is celebrating tonight is entirely due to him. I intend to give thanks to the Almighty and beg Him to extend mercy to a boy who may have made mistakes, but means no evil. I will beseech Him to soften the heart of His servant the Pope, so that he will grant Wulf absolution.”
“I will pray also,” Madlenka said. It was her fault that Wulf had been taken by his enemies when he was helpless to save himself. But she was exhausted, and must sleep. Perhaps tomorrow she would think of some way she could find him and give him back his magic.
Like Vlad said, nothing was going to happen before morning.
CHAPTER 30
Madlenka set off toward the great hall, meaning to check on the last of the wounded, but before she reached the door, she realized that it was no longer being used as the infirmary. Beds and priests had gone and the castle staff were celebrating. A band with more enthusiasm than style was banging, blowing, and scraping away. She beat a fast retreat before someone tried to drag her into the frenzy.
She went in search of her mother. Dowager Countess Edita was having a private celebration in her very restricted new quarters, entertaining her closest cronies, Noemi and Ivana. She looked up with disapproval at her daughter’s somewhat haphazard attire and offered a lukewarm invitation to join them, which Madlenka politely declined.
Carrying a lantern, she entered her dressing room and closed the door. She had taken two steps when the bolt clicked behind her. She swung around, and the door was indeed now bolted. Wulf? Could it be Wulf returned? Trembling with a strange mixture of fear and excitement, she raised her lantern high. There was no one else in the dressing room. A light was burning in her bedroom. She hastened there.
On the stool sat Sybilla, still dressed in grandeur. “You took your time,” she said.
Madlenka’s feet wanted her to spin around and flee. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”
“To rescue Wulfgang, of course. He’s cute and he’s valuable.”
“You? You think you can rescue him from the Inquisition?”
It seemed absurd, and yet the daughter of Lady Umbral might be a much more powerful person than her years suggested.
“The Inquisition doesn’t have him,” Sybilla said, in the sort of tone used with a very slow child. “So far. But we must act quickly, before he wakes up and other Speakers can locate him.”
“You know where he is?” A wisp of hope quivered like an early snowdrop in a wintery blast. Sybilla could be trusted to tell the truth sometimes, her cadger had said.
The girl smirked. “Of course I know where he is! I opened the gate for Father Giulio and his musclemen. Wasn’t that tall one a dream? Now get dressed in the best you have.”
“Where is he?”
“Hidden right under the Inquisition’s nose. Move! You have work to do. First you need to meet someone. He’s at the ball, so we must go there.”
“Me? What can I do? Aren’t you Wulf’s cadger? That makes you manager of one of the most valuable properties in Christendom right now. Have you any idea…? No, of course you don’t. You can ask the earth for him. So get dressed, and I’ll help.”
“Wulf is not for sale!”
Sybilla sighed deeply at such stupidity. “His talent is! Speakers serve other people, very rich, important, powerful people. For that they are greatly rewarded, and they are protected. A Speaker on his own would be like a mad dog, dangerous and out of control, responsible to no one. Now get dressed!”
Madlenka turned and headed back to her dressing room, but her head continued to whirl. Was this a dangerous trap, or just a stupid prank? Or could it be real? Most valuable property in Christendom?
“How long is this going to take?”
“Ten minutes? Have you more important things to do than rescue your lover from the worst death imaginable?”
Of course not. “What’s in it for you?”
Sybilla had followed her and laughed joyfully. “Now you’re starting to talk sense! Always ask that question, even if just to yourself. The man you are about to meet is my brother, who has a problem. Wulf can help him. And he can help Wulf. These things are always quid pro quo. Heaven bless us, is that the best you’ve got? It looks like Justina’s wedding dress from eighty years ago.”
Impudent brat!
Madlenka dropped the offending garment and reached for another, simpler one. “It takes hours to pin me into that,” she agreed. “I’ll wear this one.” And she wouldn’t try to compete with all the other Sybillas at the ball. She was a backwoods nymph, and could never hope to score in that sort of contest.
Her companion looked doubtful. “You’ll look as if you just escaped from a nunnery kitchen. But you’re probably right. Businesslike, not frivolous. After all, you’re not going to be presented to the king. Now, let me see what shoes you’ve got here…”
“Where is this ball? this bax201D; Madlenka asked in sudden alarm.
“In the Louvre Palace.”
“In Paris?”
