“That’s where it was when I left it. To celebrate the Eve of St. Michael the Archangel… Listen!” Sybilla abandoned the shoe basket. “I’ll go back there so people won’t start wondering where I’ve gone, and I’ll cut Louis out of the pack and arrange a rendezvous somewhere private. You do the best you can and I’ll come back for you in, what? Twenty minutes?”
“Twenty minutes,” Madlenka agreed, now talking to empty air.
She was adjusting her hat in the mirror and wondering if she had gone crazy or was having an especially wicked nightmare when Sybilla appeared behind her.
“Mm… I suppose that will have to do. The Grand Promenade is due to start in half an hour and we must complete our negotiations before that. Ready?”
“No.” Madlenka spoke firmly. “Who is this brother and what is his problem and how can Wulf-”
“Gramercy! All right. Fair questions.” Sybilla sat on the bed, perching on the extreme edge to show that she was not planning to stay. “You know that yesterday the baron went to see Cardinal Zdenek? Well…”
“No. Otto did?”
“Yes, Otto did. Listen to me! He reported that Wulf had moved Anton to Gallant and Anton had established himself as count, but he pointed out that the Wends were known to have at least one Speaker on their side and probably others, so Wulf was going to need help. Zdenek agreed. He sent one of his hirelings to a secret place he knows of, to deliver a message. And late last night, or very early this morning, Lady Umbral and Justina went to Mauvnik to meet with him.”
Madlenka nodded. “That was the meeting that the priest mentioned?” So far it made sense, if one could adjust to a world of magic.
“Yes.” Sybilla babbled on, like a pebbly brook. “Lady Umbral agreed to let Justina help Wulf for a few days, but she and the Spider disagreed on the price. For months now Zdenek has been hawking Princess Laima around the aristocracy of Europe, wanting to see her betrothed while he can still control the terms and take his cut. Lady Umbral wanted her for my brother. My half-brother, not her son. He’s Louis of Rouen and he will impress you. Zdenek refused, saying that the contract had already been initialed. They settled on dividing Wulf one-third-two- thirds between them.”
“Oh, did they?”
Sybilla grinned, looking even younger than usual. “I’m sure neither intended to keep their word, and Mother soon learned that no contract had been signed yet, so Zdenek was lying and the game was still on. Understand?”
Madlenka understood some of it, but this was not her world and she was going to have to learn very fast. Baron Otto would be the one to consult. And Wulf himself, of course.
“How do you split a Speaker?”
“ Never use that word! Why do you think we have all these codes? He’s your falcon. When he’s under contract, he’s a client’s hireling. Zdenek employs five hirelings and flies no falcons of his own, so far as I know. He wanted to be Wulf’s cadger and let Lady Umbral be his client for four months of the year. Now come along and meet Louis.”
The room was a bedchamber, bright with many candles, their light glittering on gilt and crystal and fine enamel. The only occupant was a youngish man sitting on a chair, the only chair. The window drapes were purple velvet; the carpet was thick and soft. A huge crystal mirror above the dressing shelf made the place seem less cramped than it really was. The door stood ajar, admitting sounds of distant music.
The man sprang up and bowed. Sybilla made introductions. Madlenka curtseyed; he kissed her fingers.
Yes, he impressed. For some reason she had expected an effete courtly fop, although she had never met such a creature, for there were none in the hills of Cardice. Louis was not that. He was not unlike Wulf, in fact, although a little older-broad, deep-chested, and muscular, as evidenced by the calves filling his hose. His face was more craggy than handsome, and certainly not soft or feminine, but he had a wonderful smile that flaunted a complete set of white teeth. He was clean-shaven of course, bronzed and of fair complexion, although not flaxen like Wulf. His eyes were gray, not golden, and his clothes had cost a coach and four.
Yes, so far he impressed.
He gestured at the other chair. “Do please sit here, ma’am.” His Latin was much better than hers, and her French was too despicable to try. “Sister, you will have to settle for the bed, I fear.”
He dropped on one knee and leaned his forearms on the other. It was the attitude of a humble petitioner, and made him seem eager and attentive. Sybilla closed the door and sat as directed.
“Ma’am, will you pardon my atrocious manners if I come straight to the point? My sister and I must soon return to the ball and the longer we talk, the more people are likely to start spying on us.”
“Please do, m’sieur.”
He nodded graciously. He did have a wonderful smile, and knew how to usnew how e it.
“I am a suitor for the hand of your beautiful princess. Yes, I have seen her, although we live at opposite ends of Christendom, but I would not admit that if I had not been assured that you are one of the Wise.” He shot a twinkling glance at his Speaker sister. “Laima has beauty to make fire flow in the veins of any man. Her wit and grace are well known. I concede that I am far from her only suitor, and very far from the greatest.”
Madlenka must say something. “But not the least favored, I am certain.”
“You flatter, ma’am. Here in France I am the youngest son of a marquis, which is better than being a schoolmaster, but in Jorgary, I would be a prince. My offer to your sovereign, King Konrad, included a pledge that I would reside in your country and learn to speak your vernacular tongue, whereas most other suitors would expect the lovely Laima to go and live with them in their homelands. I am sure that difference would matter to her, but I doubt if her opinions are of importance, alas, or even known. I am not rich; my estates bring in a few thousand livres a month, but that is penury by royal standards. I cannot increase my original offer to your esteemed Cardinal Zdenek, which was one-half of whatever dowry the princess brings to the marriage.”
One-half…? Madlenka must have let her outrage show, because he shrugged. Graciously, of course.
“Alas, it is to be expected. That is how ‘arrangements’ are made, and others will have offered him more. Because of my own circumstances, more than one-half would be unfair to my bride, exposing our poverty to the shame of all.”
Then Louis paused to let her comment. Her mind spun frantically. She was not accustomed to managing the most valuable livestock in Christendom, or whatever Sybilla had called Wulf. But, of course, there was something very obviously missing.
“You want me to contract my, um, falcon’s services to Cardinal Zdenek, so he will agree to accept you as Princess Laima’s husband?” She took his nod as acceptance. She thought he was hiding his amusement at her fumbling attempts at negotiation. “And what are you offering me, as his cadger?”
That smile again…
“I have an uncle who stands very high in the Church. He will do all he can to further my suit. He could provide your falcon with a papal absolution for any past misdeeds. Sybilla has established that your handfasting to Anton was highly irregular and not properly explained to you in advance. You were subjected to unseemly pressure. A papal order to your bishop to annul it would be included.”
Stars danced and birds sang. Then clouds of doubt swept in. “According to a reliable source, His Holiness has already prejudged the case and found my, um, falcon, guilty of Satanism.” Madlenka looked to Sybilla for confirmation, since she was the source in question.
Sybilla nodded impatiently.
Louis said, “I expect that His Holiness was merely establishing a bargaining position.”
“Oh, was he? Is your uncle higher than the pope?”
Brother and sister exchanged glances of amusement.
Louis said, “Not quite, although he came close to being elected pope by the conclave of 1458. He is bishop of several places, including Rouen and Ostia, and he is dean of the College of Cardinals. If my uncle asks for the
