Come Twilight (73 page)

At this last Ruthor nodded, comprehension coming at last. “You say that someone in that region might realize that Germanno, Comide of Ragoczy is a vampire.”

“Yes. So Germanno, Comide Ragoczy must be no more,” Germanno said.

Ruthor nodded slowly. “And Ximene? What of her?”

He answered quietly, his thoughts inward. “She blames me for all that has happened, I think. She has gone far into the mountains to wait for a time she and her clan are forgotten so she may once again rule in the region of Holy Blood.”

“And Aulutis?” Ruthor used the original version of the boy’s name deliberately.

“Dead. I took him back to his mother.” He moved out of the angle of the cabin and looked directly at Ruthor. “Two peasants drove a lance through his back.”

“They knew,” said Ruthor.

“Clearly they did.” Germanno agreed.

A sudden sound came from the barnyard as one of the scullions tossed the kitchen slops to the half-dozen pigs in the sty behind the stable brought both Germanno and Ruthor on the alert.

“I should not stay much longer,” Ruthor said, getting to his feet. “I will return later, near midnight.”

“I may not be here by then,” Germanno said.

Ruthor stood still. “Where will you be?”

“With any luck I will be on a mule bound for the north,” said Germanno.

“A mule from the stable?” Ruthor asked.

“If one should wander out of his stall,” Germanno answered. “I will need a monk’s habit and a begging bowl.”

“I will see that they are put in the stable as soon as the household has sat down to dinner.” Ruthor took a few steps away. “What happened to your face?”

“I scraped it on a river-bottom,” Germanno said in so casual a way that Ruthor stared at him.

“You were thrown into a river?” His shock made his voice louder than he had intended.

“I jumped into one. There was a fire behind me.” He sounded almost apologetic. “I could not outrun it, so I set my horse loose and took my satchels—”

“Which had the linen strips and your native earth,” Ruthor interjected with a nod of approval.

“Yes. It is steep country there, and the river carried me more than eight leagues before I washed up on the shore.” He held out his bandaged hands. “They are bruised and scored. So are my legs. The bandages have served a double purpose.”

“That was a dangerous thing to do. You are immobilized in running water,” Ruthor said.

“Was burning less dangerous?” Germanno’s voice was lightly ironic. “In my position, I had few choices.”

Ruthor took a deep breath. “So you are going north as a monk.” He cocked his head. “What am I to do?”

“Stay here until Idelfonzuz marches to Zaraguza in the spring. Then declare you are going to search for me. Make sure you include generous donations to the Church and the King in my name before you do—”

“I have done so already. Just this evening I promised two bags of gold to the King,” Ruthor said, trying to mask his faint frown. “He sent a courtier to inquire about your Will.”

“Did he.” Germanno shook his head once.

“He was most insistent,” Ruthor said. “I supposed he wanted to find out the extent of your fortune here. I denied him, but I offered him recompense.”

“Was it more than he wanted?” Germanno asked.

“I think so,” Ruthor replied. “Certainly more than the King expects. The bribe I offered him should keep him from seeking more, at least for a while.”

Germanno gave a mercurial smile. “Very good. I knew I could rely on you, old friend.”

Ruthor shrugged off the praise. “So. I am to look for you when Idelfonzuz’s campaign begins. What then?”

“You will find me at Olivia’s horse-farm, outside of Orleanis, well beyond Idelfonzuz’s campaign, or his reach.”

“He may seize this house,” Ruthor cautioned him. “It is likely he will ignore your Will and confiscate your holdings.”

Germanno shrugged. “I have lost more than houses on his account. Let him take what he wants; you and I will not soon return here.”

“So Germanno, Comide Ragoczy will completely vanish?” Ruthor asked.

“It is better so. When you find me, I will be a scholar from Poland.” He held up his hand to keep Ruthor from making an indignant protest. “No one remembers Hiermon Ragoczy now. Carl-le-Magne is long dead, and the Poles do not care what happens beyond their borders.”

“So you hope,” Ruthor countered ready to defend his position. Then, as quickly as the impulse had taken him, it was gone and he studied Germanno intently. “You are bothered by Ximene, are you not?”

“More than bothered.” Germanno said.

“Because of what she became,” Ruthor said.

“And what she remains. She is adamant against—” Germanno broke off and nodded in self-condemnation. “I failed her,” he said, his voice low. “She has not learned that it is touching that nourishes us, not the blood. We seek life and she has contempt for the living.”

“From what you told me, so did you at first,” Ruthor said as sympathetically as possible.

Germanno said nothing for a while, then coughed once. “Her losses have been great, but she will not mourn them.”

“In time she may,” Ruthor said, sensing the anguish Ximene was causing his master.

“Perhaps.” Germanno shook off his melancholy with a single, decisive gesture. “There is nothing to be gained by dwelling on this; it is beyond my remedy,” He took a moment to marshal his thoughts. “I will leave by the Santoz Guion gate. Monks may pass through it at any hour of the day or night.”

“It may be snowing,” Ruthor warned as he glanced up at the sky.

“The cold will not bother me so long as I have my native earth to shield me,” Germanno reminded him.

“I will see to it that you have a satchel of it with the monk’s habit,” Ruthor promised him.

Germanno gestured his approval. “I cannot thank you enough, old friend.” He glanced back toward his house. “You had better be getting back. Tell the staff you have persuaded the leper to leave.”

“That I will,” Ruthor said. “And I will decry the missing mule in the morning.”

“An excellent plan,” Germanno said, and stepped back into the stone cabin while Ruthor made his way through the garden and into the house.

Text of a dispatch from Idelfonzuz, King of Aragon and Navarre, son-in-law of Adelfonzuz of Castile and León.

Be it known: I, Idelfonzuz, King of Aragon and Navarre, son-in-law of Adelfonzuz of Castile and León do hold the city of Zaraguza and the control of the Eberoz River for twelve leagues in both directions from this city, and will hold it for the honor of my Crown and the glory of God.

Moorish captives tell us of contention among the numbers, for there are ambitious men serving Allah as there are those who claim to be devoted to Christ. It is my intention to take advantage of this unsettled situation among the Moors and advance my claims on the lands that are rightly ours. Let the Moors spend their strength among themselves—I will turn their strife to my cause and gain triumph over them. Well it is said that confusion among the enemy brings victory to the purposeful. That will be my motto, and it will serve to keep my soldiers and knights at their keenest.

I have received word from the monastery of Santoz Ennati near Usxa that the people of that place await our coming with prayers of eagerness; I have already sent word to them that I will hasten to free them from the Moors. I am told that their other foes have been routed as well, a sign that God has given His potency to us, and has blessed our endeavors. In His Name we will persevere to the ultimate victory.

Many have shown their devotion to this cause, and have not been praised for their efforts. Their fates remain unknown, and for their sacrifice, I will offer up the Masses of priests throughout Spain, so that they may be rewarded in Heaven for their forfeiture here on earth in this cause. Most of these unknown soldiers will be nameless anywhere but in Heaven. I am certain that God is Just and will receive their souls among those who have died in Christ’s Name over the centuries. For those who are known and who labored for me, I declare that their heirs shall have ten gold Angels for their loss.

This is a worthy fight, and one that will not end in a year or a decade. Our enemy is an old enemy, and for that reason we must be prepared to remain steadfast and to fight on for as long as a single Moor stands upon Spanish soil. I have dedicated my life to this battle, and I will continue to war on. Let men call me The Warrior: I take pride in the name, and I will strive to earn it many times over before I fall in God’s cause.

Let all be diligent in this effort. Priests and peasants are as useful to God in reclaiming His land as soldiers and knights. I will praise those who support my army and I will punish those who do not. If you are not willing to aid me, you are aiding our enemies, the Moors, and you will receive the same penalty as all enemies must expect from me.

To this I set my hand on the 20
^th
day of August in the 1118
^th
year of
man’s Salvation,

Idelfonzuz, King of Aragon and Navarre

Son-in-law of Adelfonzuz of Castile and León

T
ext of a letter from Atta Olivia Clemes in Roma to Hiermon Ragoczy in La Chappelle; written in the Latin of Imperial Rome.

To my dearest, most worrisome friend, greetings from the new Circus Romana where the Church has been providing the entertainment in place of the charioteers, gladiators, and wild beasts of old.

Anacletus II has taken over San Pietro’s while Innocentus II has occupied the Lateranus. One has a choice of Popes, and that has brought a looseness to Roma that has not been in the city for many years. I tend to see Anacletus as the better of the Pontiffs whether or not he is a converted Jew; he is better educated and far more capable of handling the complexities that are encumbering the Church, particularly the uproar that has resulted from the new prohibition on priests marrying. Innocentus is little more than a tool of Lothair II, the Holy Roman Emperor, but he has armed men to support his claim. What an array of II’s we have, to be sure; two Popes and an Emperor, all the second of that name. Were I an Arab mathematician, no doubt I should find some significance in this. As it is, I find it both diverting and lamentable.

What is there in the edge of the Low Countries that offers half the amusement of what we now have here in Roma? You may say what you like about the change in trade, or the civil war in Britain, I know I am having a livelier time than you. Consider coming to join me here. I will not be departing for another year or so—I am too much delighted by the chaos being stirred by the Church, and all in the name of preserving the succession from San Pietro to the present. At least the Caesars were open in their ambition.

Are you still planning to try to find the last of Ximene’s tribe? I will tell you again that such an act would be absolute folly. Let well enough alone. If they enlarge their numbers, then you will have every reason to seek them out, but until then, trust that they profited by her errors and have learned not to flood the world with vampires. I have heard nothing from the Toulousa region, where you say you think they have gone. Why draw attention to them by searching them out? The Church would take immediate advantage if it was discovered that there were undead creatures to hunt; think of how much more important the Church would become if people thought they had to be protected from our kind. I understand that you believe you are under obligation to them because Ximene has not instilled in them a sense of proportion. Why you should have such a responsibility, when it is she who did not show them the danger of their nature, I cannot comprehend. Still, I am not astonished that you have taken the duty upon yourself.

Consider the risk you will run to do this, I ask you. They may be able to manage without your instruction, but I am not certain that I can. If not for your sake, then for mine, do not expose yourself to the wrath of the living. Barring that, give me your oath that you will stay on the north side of the Pyrenees. As dangerous as Toulousa may be, Spain is infinitely more so. Promise me you will not cross into that thrice-cursed region of Holy Blood. Ximene may be right, and the peasants there may forget her and her tribe in time, but even you would agree that not enough has passed. Help those in Toulousa if you must, but leave those in Aragon and Barzelunya to their fates.

You may think me hard-hearted to ask this of you, and truly, I may be. But, Sanct’ Germain, I would be neglecting
my
obligation to
you
if I did not caution you in this venture of yours. You are not the only one who has a debt to honor; since you brought me to life, I have known that I owe more to you than I can ever repay. So, if you insist on placing yourself in harm’s way, I will take it upon myself to inform you of the hazards you face. Do not chastise me for it: you have earned my concern.

I have sent Niklos Aulirios to Alexandria to find out if there is any way I might arrange to purchase property there. I would like to have a place to go that is not in the lands of the Church, but I am worried that the followers of the Prophet are no more reasonable that the followers of Christ. There are many things I miss about the Roma I knew when I was one of the living, yet I miss none so much as the laws which once allowed women their own estates and property. To have to continually invent late husbands or missing brothers is not only an annoyance, it is an insult as well. But at least Niklos is capable of smoothing over those inconveniences as much as may be done. If he discovers a way for me to secure property that is not too convoluted, then I shall go there, and hope I will be able to avoid any of the intrusions that religion continues to make on those of us who would rather not be bothered by it.