absolved him, the Inquisition would not. It would pursue him relentlessly, every day of his life, until it could find cause to charge him with sorcery, and his death for that would avenge Father Azuolas.
The friar rose, fired with a righteousness so intense that it could admit no dissent. “Go and fly, little falcon,” he whispered. “Soar and circle as you will, but one day you will stoop, as falcons do, and then our snares will have you. We will catch your jesses then, falcon, and haul you down.” He turned and padded to the door.
As soon as it closed behind him, Wulf went back to his seat and resumed his meal.
CHAPTER 44
Father Giulio and Brother Daniel were bent over the table, apparently comparing two documents word by word. There was no sign of the taller priest, or Prior Luigi. Or Madlenka. Cardinal d’Estouteville was slumped in his favorite chair, looking weary, and older than he had yesterday.
Wulf knelt to kiss his ring, then waited in vain for the order to rise.
“You truly are a remarkably effective young man, Sir Wulfgang.”
“Your Eminence is kind to say so.” He was starting to believe it himself.
“We are impressed,” the old man mused. “He has obtained almost exactly the betrothal terms we required. He won a knighthood and the trust of his prince, and he persuaded the Scarlet Spider to change his mind for the first time in decades. And all within the time limit we set for him-which, frankly, we did not dream he could meet.”
Puzzled, but forced to assume he was still being addressed, Wulf said, “Happy to serve Your Eminence. I am free to go?”
“Oh, no!” The cardinal’s voice sharpened. The half-blind eyes looked down at him for the first time. “‘Almost exactly’ is not exactly ‘exactly.’ Zdenek’s draft proposes sending the girl to France instead of receiving my nephew there. Whose idea was that?”
So the change had been noticed and Wulf had failed. His chances had never been good. “I honestly believe that these are the best terms that-”
“Answer my question!”
Wulf would never see Madlenka again, for she could give Samson back his hair, and Samson in his strength was too effective to be trusted. It would be safer for all concerned, Church and state, to dispose of him. Light the faggots! Make him a salutary example of the hazards of Satanism.
Magnuses did not plead for mercy.
“My idea. Granted Crown Prince Konrad is not the most promising clay from which to fashion a great king, but he does have the right to wear the crown of his forefathers. He deserves a chance to try.”
“You are saying that the presence of my nephew in Jorgary would imperil your future king? That my nephew would foment revolution to put himself on the throne instead?”
“The temptation would be there.”
“Opportunity!” d’Estouteville shouted. “The opportunity would be there. I want Louis to wear a crown, and I am not accustomed to being thwarted by apple-cheeked boys, Squire Wulfgang. You want to rule Jorgary yourself. You would make your prince a puppet and manipulate him by sorcery, bring back his wife and tweak the impotent pervert into siring a son-change his name, ban his orgies, make the people cheer, leave the Spider spinning webs into his dotage. God save King Whosis! You dare to pass moral judgment on me?”
Wulf had no defense against those charges. In the absence of defense, attack. “Since you mention morals, by what right did you bring me here? By what right did you abduct Countess Madlenka?”
“By what right do I hold back the Lord’s Dogs? Shall I call for Brother Luigi?”
Someone laughed. “That’s enough, both of you,” said a new voice.
Wulf glanced around and then jumped to his feet. He had not heard the newcomers enter, so they could not have come through the door. There was no doubt who the young man in front was-Wulf had seen his face on a miniature. They bowed to each other.
At the back, beyond the big table, was Sybilla, beaming with glee… And Madlenka, paler than usual but wearing an expression of unspeakable relief. Her eyes met Wulf’s and for a moment there was no one else in the world. The temptation to rush to her made him sway on his feet.
“Sir Wulfgang!” Louis of Rouen spoke as if he had said this before and not been heard. He both looked and sounded amused. “You may not have satisfied my uncle, but you have more than satisfied me.”
Hope sprang anew, like returning pain in a wound that had gone numb but might not be mortal after all. “You are gracious, my lord.”
“And you are dangerously ingenious!” He laughed. “My remorseless uncle there wanted to throw you to the Inquisition. I told him that I was more than happy to accept what you had made possible. Every night I dream of clasping your lovely little princess in my arms. I will ask only one favor.”
“If it lies within my power, it is granted.”
Louis smiled. Already he had registered as a very personable man. Therein lay his danger, of course. “Don’t be so hasty with promises! All I ask is that if your King Krystof does prove impossible-if revolution begins to bubble and you can no longer in good conscience support him-then I ask that you transfer your loyalty to his sister.”
If the new king had produced an heir by then, the child would take precedence, but Louis and Laima might very well be the best guardians available. The last few days had taught Wulf to take life as it came. “You have my word on it, my lord.”
“Give him his absolution, Uncle.”
D’Estouteville grunted, but he was holding back a smile. “Giulio?”
Father Giulio came forward with Brother Daniel at his heels. If those two large rolls under the priest’s arm were the betrothal contract, then they had sprouted several more seals since Wulf had last seen them. But first Giulio handed a smaller document to the cardinal.
“This is signed by the Holy Father,” d’Estouteville said. “And bears his seal. It absolves Wulfgang Magnus of all sins committed before this date. That would include any involvement in the death of Father Azuolas or any Satanic practices that might be charged against him.”
Wulf reached out a hand, but Brother Daniel’s was there first.
“I take this,” he said.
Wulf nodded. Madlenka stared across at him in horror, but that was the unspoken deal Wulf had made with Zdenek: the cardinal would hold the parchment that stood between Wulf and death, so that he must keep his side of the bargain.
Father Giulio seemed surprised, but did not question. He handed another paper to the cardinal. “The annulment, Your Eminence.”
“Ah, yes.” The old scoundrel had decided to enjoy himself. He was one of those people who are always on stage, playing roles. He unrolled the scroll and pretended to study it, although he was much too blind to read without a lens. “This is addressed to Bishop Ugne, disallowing the alleged handfasting he approved, on the grounds that a handfasting is only admissible when there is no priest present to perform the sacrament of matrimony and the woman has been properly advised of her rights. Of course the dates are a little unorthodox, since your petition has not yet had time to reach Archbishop Svaty, let alone be referred by him to Rome. And this reply cannot reach Jorgary for weeks yet.”
He glanced up and changed his tone to one of professional sympathy. “We have not yet commiserated with you on the death of your brother, Wulfgang, but we now do so, and will remember him in our prayers. You could not marry his widow, but this documen have t effectively removes that obstacle, if such is your wish.” He beamed at Madlenka. “Is it?”
“Oh yes, Your Eminence!” She curtseyed, not knowing that she could be no more than a blur in his sight.
“And the betrothal,” Father Giulio concluded, holding out the two major rolls.
“Give those to my nephew. When Sybilla returns him to Paris, he can file one copy and send the other off to Mauvnik, after a suitable delay. Daniel, you may assure my eminent brother Zdenek that the terms are acceptable and the contract will shortly be on its way back. You have our leave and our blessing.”
