"Apologies? It sells me to the Inquisition and then says it's sorry? How very touching!" Without rising from the straw, Toby reached for his shirt and doublet. Apologies, indeed!
"My attitude entirely, Campeador!" The don turned away to scowl at the paraphernalia on the table. "But it made amends by providing this absurd garment and another one like it for you, which I brought. They are spelled to distract attention—I just walked in here and no one saw me."
Poor deluded fool! No one questioned clerics at the best of times, and besides, Toby had seen him, even if he had mistaken him for a Dominican friar, which was easy enough to do. Getting in and getting out would be unlikely twins, for it was not hard to imagine Captain Diaz's reaction should two Benedictines emerge from the crypt and try to walk past the guard without explaining how they had come to be in there in the first place.
"And of course it offered us horses and some food to eat on the—"
"Us? No! You didn't involve Doña Francisca in this?"
The don spun around, blue eyes glaring madness. "What name do you profane, varlet?" He reached inside his robe, and very obviously he had a sword in there—not his great broadsword but still a lethal weapon.
Toby was on the floor, half dressed, totally vulnerable. "I meant to say..." He was hexed and could not lie. "I should have said 'Senor Francisco,' of course, senor!"
"It sounded as if you named my sainted mother—a lady of paramount nobility and such immaculate reputation that, were you to speak but one idle word of her, I should be forced to cut out your tongue."
"Such was never my intention. I am mortified that my clumsiness distressed you, senor."
"You will receive no other warning." The maniac released his grip on his sword reluctantly.
"Do please continue your inspiring chronicle, which surpasses the ancient tales of chivalry."
Mollified, the don preened and twirled up his mustache. "As it happened, I decided that the journey would fatigue the old man unduly, so I came alone. There is nothing much else to tell. Josep gave me a letter to his steward, so I left Smeòrach at the House of Brusi on the Carrer Montcada and was promised fresh mounts for our return. I put on this absurd garment and walked in here."
He made it sound very easy, but probably no one ever tried to rescue prisoners from the Inquisition—most people would be as frightened of the captives as they were of the friars.
"I admit," Don Ramon said, "that I did not anticipate the baron. He was an unexpected complication, especially when I learned what he was planning."
"I am amazed. Your courage is exceeded only by your modesty, senor!"
"Of course. The first time he invoked the demon, I heard its name, but I did not see the actions. It was fortunate that he invoked it again."
Toby rose. "And how do you propose that we escape from here? There are armed men on the door." Oreste's orders to Captain Diaz had been very specific. "Can we really trust this gramarye of yours to that extent?"
"I no longer expect to escape." Don Ramon frowned down at the sleeping hexer. "By choice, I shall be struck down while battling my way out against overwhelming odds, but that is of little importance. You may take the other robe and depart, because you are only a serf. I am a hidalgo of Castile and must consider my honor. Since this unspeakable hexer has fallen into my power, I cannot refuse the opportunity to slay him. 'Twill be a valorous deed and well worth dying for, but of course I can't do it while he is unconscious. He must know he is going to perish, and at whose hand. As a churl you would not understand."
Toby considered the prostrate hexer and laughed ruefully. "Senor, for years my greatest ambition has been to choke the life out of this monster with my bare hands. Yet, churl though I am, I find I am as helpless as your noble self while he is in this condition."
"Curious! But I foresee trouble when I awaken him and he regains command of his demons. Have you any suggestions, Campeador?"
Toby had several, of which the most important was that the two of them leave Barcelona alive and healthy and soon. How could he talk sense into the maniac while he was conjured to speak nothing except the strictest truth?
"It will not be easy, senor. Baron Oreste has many demons immured in those rings, and some of them are undoubtedly conjured to defend him. I presume that they have not interfered thus far only because he has come to no harm yet, and they may enjoy seeing him shamed like this. Demons obey specific orders only and detest those who control them, but any move to injure Oreste will trigger their compulsions. As you said, Rigomagus is undoubtedly a very weak demon, so others could override it and awaken their master at any time."
The don frowned dangerously. "I have already announced my intentions, Campeador!"
"I am attempting to assist, senor. Pray hear me out." With his mind flapping in frantic circles, Toby went to the baron and squatted down to study his fat hands. "He has a total of ten rings here, and the jewel on his cane may also hold a bottled demon. I was told once that he is hexed to absolute loyalty by a demon immured in a beryl. Are you familiar with jewels?"
"No. What are you proposing?"
"The baron is forbidden to remove the beryl ring, but it may be possible for us to remove it, depending on the exact terms of the conjuration." It was a very slim chance. Would Rhym have overlooked that loophole?
"Bah!" said the don and began to pace. "I do not see how that would solve anything. You would still have to take him out of the demon's range—to Montserrat, say, or even farther. Only then would he be free of it."
Toby rose and went to the table. He examined the black pebble, then replaced it in the locket and hung the locket around his neck again. There was a mystery that might haunt him till his dying day—whenever that was. He tucked the dagger inside his doublet, making a silent vow that the Inquisition would not take him alive the next time.
"This casket, senor? I have met its like before. It is warded against demons. If we put the beryl inside and shut the lid, the baron will be free of his compulsion."
"So! Ingenious!" Don Ramon came striding back, looking pleased. "But we do not know which is the correct ring, not even which is Rigomagus."
"Nor do we know which holds Rigomagus or the demons that guard his life. We shall have to remove all of them and put them all in the box."
The two men eyed each other uneasily. Would guardian demons stand for that?
Then the don twirled up his mustache again. "And he will be only a fat old man with no powers of gramarye! Very well. Let us begin!"
Gently they pulled the rings from the sleeping man's fingers, and Oreste continued to snore peacefully. Nothing catastrophic occurred, but when the last one came free Toby realized that he was almost giddy from holding his breath. He wrenched the jewel from the end of the cane and put that in the ivory casket also. They had done it!
The don said, "Put the box on the table, Campeador, and close it."
CHAPTER FOUR
"We shan't be able to see much when the light goes out."
"Ah! Good tactical thinking! Wait." Don Ramon stalked off to inspect the furnishings of the cellar. He returned bearing a black robe, a rusty metal rod that was probably a branding iron, and a fierce scowl. The robe he tossed down on the table. "That will get you safely out of here, Campeador. And this bar will have to serve. Ready?"
He performed another conjuration, calling on Rigomagus to extinguish its light. Darkness surged into the crypt like a black tide—gramarye! Shapes emerged as Toby's eyes adjusted to the glimmering glow of the lanterns.