Come Twilight (64 page)

“That was years ago,” said Germanno, looking away from Idelfonzuz.

“These stories have been handed down for generations,” came his response in a tone that insisted on an answer.

Germanno paused, gathering his thoughts and considering his memories. “I think the forest can conceal many things, and that no matter what they are, someone will call them demons to explain them. I think that travelers may be injured, or become ill, and so do not reach their destination, and some credit demons with their misfortune.”

“A careful remark, but not an answer,” said Idelfonzuz around the cheese as he chewed.

“I apologize, Liege, but I have not knowledge enough to deal with these matters in a way that would serve you,” Germanno replied, hoping that Idelfonzuz would be content to eat and ask nothing more.

“That is wise, to consider my wants.” He swallowed the cheese and reached for another wedge of it, this time spreading it with butter before shoving it into his mouth. “Still, you have more experience of the world than most, and therefore your knowledge is useful to me.”

“Liege,” said Germanno patiently, aware that he might be offending the King without meaning to, “I do not seek to tell you of your own country.”

“Oh,” said Idelfonzuz, pausing in his chewing to regard Germanno skeptically. “Do you mean that because some of the Holy Blood region is in Aragon, you have no wish to speak disparagingly of it? You may do so without fear; I know the reputation of that part of my country.”

This assurance brought Germanno no relief. He cleared his throat and said, “For centuries, Christians and Moors have fought in that region, and each has believed that God favored them. When the others triumphed, it was most satisfactory to account for this by saying demons were responsible. That has played a part in the stories over the years. And many of the people living in the mountains have been slow to give up their old faith, and although they may pray to Christ or Allah, they also leave tribute to their ancient gods, in the form of offerings.” He had a brief, intense recollection of Pentacoste tying red twine to oak trees; then he thought of Chimena. “Those people, the ones who keep to the old ways, are glad to honor their ancient gods, and they do not care if Christians and Moors call them demons, for that recognizes their power.” He wondered if there was any purpose to protecting Chimena, but could not bring himself to expose her and her followers.

“Then they are faithless, and deserve to die for it,” Idelfonzuz said as he pronged a hunk of smoked goose. “I will instruct my soldiers to destroy their shrines. Then God will show His Might in our behalf.”

“That could turn the folk against you,” Germanno remarked, careful not to sound too apprehensive about it.

“What can peasants do?” Idelfonzuz asked. “They scatter like fish when they see a mounted soldier; it does not matter for whom he fights.” He bit into the goose, then reached for the wine to wash it down.

Two of the household servants appeared and began to light the lamps that hung throughout the main hall; they did not look at the King, but they managed to take longer than usual to accomplish this simple task. In a short while, the glimmer of lamplight vied with the setting sun in gilding the columns and arches of the hall and gallery beyond.

“Then why not leave them to their own devices and keep your men after the Moors?” Germanno recommended. “They have much more important foe than villagers and farmers.”

Idelfonzuz shrugged. “And besides, if they are chased off, whom shall I tax to continue the war?” He swallowed and laughed, took a deep draught of wine, and laughed again. “You should have been in the Church, Comide. You are subtle enough for it.”

“Liege is gracious,” said Germanno, keeping his thoughts on the matter to himself.

“I have forces in Zaraguza now, and they maintain our lines, but as soon as I have readied my new soldiers, we will press the Moors from above and below. Men are being sent by the King of France—if arrangements are successful, and they will reinforce the men of Aragon and Navarra, as I will lead the men of Castile and León. The Moors will have to withdraw to the east and the south, and all of the north of the country will again be ours.”

“When do you suppose you will accomplish this, Liege?” Germanno asked, aware that coordinating so tremendous a campaign would be an imposing task.

“Next year. And you will aid me, for you speak the language of the King of France as you speak my tongue and that of the Moors. You will be my courier.” He smiled fiercely, aware of the great respect he was showing Germanno. “You will move between our lines, through the region of Holy Blood.” His smile became a wolfish grin. “So you must hope your assessment is right, and the forests are held by nothing more than soldiers and peasants, for you will be going through them with some regularity.” He dug his two-tined fork into a lump of ham. “This is all very good.”

“I shall inform my cook that you are pleased,” Germanno said flatly, his mind now fully occupied with what lay ahead.

“You acquitted yourself well on your mission to Sevallis. This is most satisfactory, for now I know I may rely on you to act on my behalf when you are beyond my Court. This is essential for my courier. You are also not one of my subjects, so there will be less jealousy among them for the favor I show you.” He reached out to the trays again, as if trying to make up his mind what next to eat. “I am relieved that you will do this for me, as many of my courtiers have lands in Aragon which they will seek to defend preferentially. You have no such constraints upon your service to me, and no relatives to make demands of you in such regard.”

Although he doubted that last, Germanno said, “Liege is most generous.”

“I know a worthy man when one is proven to me,” he said, a bit smugly as he helped himself to bread. “You are expected to be at my service every day starting five days from now. That will allow you time to reestablish yourself in your household. Then I want you to devote your skills to me.”

“Of course, Liege,” said Germanno automatically.

“You will have many opportunities to demonstrate your value. I will be glad to advance you in accordance with your service. There is no reason you should not come out of this very much the better for being my courier.” He bit off a wad of bread, then drank his wine to swallow it down.

“Then I will hope to be worthy of distinction,” said Germanno, an ironic note in his courteous words.

“I am not a fickle King, to demand service and later renege on my obligations. I have said I will reward you: do not think I will forget. You have come through your first test in fine form.” He drank more wine. “This is very good.”

“Thank you; it is from my own vineyards,” said Germanno, then returned to what troubled him. “Was my journey to Sevallis by way of a test?”

“In part,” said Idelfonzuz. “In part you have provided me a needed base there, and for which I thank you most heartily. But generally I wanted to be certain you would do as instructed even while beyond my realm, and that you would report aright when you returned. I have read Antoninus’ accounts and heard yours. I am satisfied.”

There was no reason to be surprised, Germanno reminded himself. “Then I am well-rewarded,” he said.

“You see?” Idelfonzuz remarked, holding up his hand. “That is where you are above most of my courtiers. You do not chide me, nor do you sulk that I tested your devotion to me.”

“Would it matter if I did?” Germanno asked, a bit impatiently.

“No; but it is to your credit that you do not.” He finished the wine in the jar and shook his head. “Is there more of this?”

“Certainly.” Germanno clapped his hands, and when Ruthor appeared, said, “Bring another jar of wine for the King.”

“And one for you, as well,” Idelfonzuz exclaimed, lavish with his host’s supplies.

Germanno made a gesture of dismissal to Ruthor, then sketched a reverence in the King’s direction. “Liege is all kindness, but I do not drink wine.”

“Learned that from the Moors, did you?” Idelfonzuz was not pleased to hear it.

“No,” Germanno said. “I learned it from the priest who taught me in my youth.” It was true enough; the priest had been a god to Germanno’s people and when he had brought Germanno to his undead life, he had taken all such appetites from the young initiate.

Idelfonzuz nodded several times. “Yes. Some priests do abstain from all pleasures. No wives, no wine, no meat, no silks, no horses. All for the love of Christ. They might as well be hermits.” He belched and smiled. “Excellent food.”

“Liege does me honor to say so,” Germanno said.

“Still, if you do not want to drink, I will have your portion,” said Idelfonzuz with such innocent greed that Germanno lost all irritation with the man, and offered him another reverence.

“And welcome, Liege.” He was prepared to maintain the conduct Idelfonzuz expected, but was growing tired of the necessity.

“The Moors, now, they are said to be opulent hosts,” said Idelfonzuz speculatively.

“They may be,” said Germanno. “They do not so extend themselves to a stranger who is not long among them.” As he said this, he wanted to make an attempt to lessen his apparent dissatisfaction with the Moors. “They live with much grandeur when they can, just as Christian seigneurs do. They have men of learning around them, and they extend themselves on behalf of those less fortunate than themselves.”

“Admirable,” said Idelfonzuz in a tone of utter condemnation. He licked his fingers and swung around to stare at Germanno just as Ruthor arrived carrying a large jar of wine. “You would be well-advised to keep such praise to yourself. There are many Christians who would view such paeans as contemptible, and, as you say, you are a stranger here.” He signaled to Ruthor to give him the wine. “You are fortunate that I appreciate your observations, and will keep them to myself.”

“As you say, Liege,” Germanno told him as he offered another profound reverence.

“You have much that is praiseworthy about you, Comide Ragoczy. Why endanger it with reckless comments that would give rise to general execration?” He approached Germanno. “When you wait upon me, guard what you say.”

“That I will,” Germanno assured him, and lowered his head as Idelfonzuz prepared to depart.

“Set your household in order, and then answer my call. You will have duties to attend to before autumn is here.” He looked about him as if he had only now become aware of the vanished day. “My escort must have torches. See to it.”

Ruthor spoke to Germanno, bending from the waist. “I will attend to it at once, my master.”

“That is a good servant you have,” Idelfonzuz approved as Ruthor hastened down the gallery. “You must beat him often.”

“He gives me no cause to do so,” Germanno said without any inflection whatsoever.

“Does he not?” the King asked in mild surprise. “Well.”

Germanno knew it was his obligation to escort Idelfonzuz from his home; he did so in proper form, staying slightly behind the King and maintaining a subordinate manner. As they reached the courtyard, half a dozen mail-armored men stood waiting, holding the reins of the King’s horse, a big, rawboned light chestnut with two white socks. “My servants are bringing torches, Liege,” Germanno reminded him.

“Then bring them quickly. We cannot linger here.” Idelfonzuz signaled to one of his escort to get on his hands and knees to provide him a living mounting block; the man who obeyed this silent order smiled as he dropped on his knees and leaned forward onto his arms. While the King settled into his saddle, three servants hurried up carrying the requested torches. “In good time,” Idelfonzuz approved, and pulled his horse around.

Germanno reverenced the King again as he left, surrounded by his armed men, who would walk him back to his castle at the highest point of the city. When the doors to the courtyard were closed, Germanno turned on his heel and went back inside his house, his head bent thoughtfully. Only when Ruthor appeared did he break his reverie. “I am going to be sent on a mission for the King.”

“Again?” Ruthor exclaimed. “What have we just returned from?”

“That, it seems, was a test,” Germanno said with a faint, wry smile. “This is what Idelfonzuz truly wants of me.” They walked together into the main hall. “I am to carry messages from Zaraguza to Usxa into Aragon, and bring messages back from there.” His expression was mildly abstracted but there was a look in his dark eyes that Ruthor found disquieting.

“You would have to pass through Chimena’s territory, would you not?” he asked knowing it was true.

“Yes, I would,” said Germanno. “Idelfonzuz claims I am the only man he can trust with such an enterprise.” He paused and looked directly at Ruthor. “Which I take to mean that he considers me expendable. If I fail to get through the region of Holy Blood, there will be no one to demand blood money from him, or any Christian.”

“Did you expect otherwise?” Ruthor asked.

“No. Yet I was a bit. . . taken aback at how obvious he was.” He fixed his gaze on the middle distance. “I will have to think on this.”

Ruthor nodded, then looked closely at Germanno. “What of Lailie?”

Germanno sighed. “Yes. I have brought her here. I owe her more than leaving without explanation.” He glanced at Ruthor, saying in the Persian tongue. “Yes, I know. You are troubled that I have only visited her in sleep.”

“That has occurred to me,” said Ruthor in the same language.

“You believe that I should make her my lover.” He shrugged. “She does not seek me, she wants a husband, or, barring that, someone who will keep her properly, care for her, and show her respect.”

“You can do these things,” Ruthor observed.

“Not while I am running errands for Idelfonzuz. And it may be that we will have to depart hurriedly.” Germanno took a deep breath. “No. That would not do, not for Lailie. She has had her father leave her already; she does not need a lover to do the same.”

“You will visit her in sleep again?” Ruthor said, doing his best not to make this a suggestion.

“I will,” said Germanno. “Once certainly, perhaps twice.” He rubbed his chin with his thumb, right along the line of his close-cropped beard. “I would rather she knows me, but that would be unwise.”