“Things are getting ugly,” said the Red Deacon. “We must leave here at once.”
CHAPTER 20
We think it sufficient for the daily dinner,
whether at the sixth or the ninth hour,
that every table have two cooked dishes,
on account of individual infirmities, so that
he who for some reason cannot eat of the one
may make his meal of the other.
FOR MORE THAN A YEAR NOW, IT SEEMED TO Blacktooth that he was always on the road. This time there was no coach to Valana. Eight men with sixteen horses rode the papal highway north. Several miles south of the side road which led to Shard’s place and on into the mountains of New Jerusalem, Cardinal Brownpony stopped, called Blacktooth and Wooshin to his side, and announced a detour around that whole area.
Blacktooth protested. “M’Lord, the only one who needs to take a detour is me. I can ride east out into the scrub, travel a few miles north, and then catch up with you on the road before dark.”
“No,” said the cardinal. “I want no more than one of us to be seen. Wooshin, pick a man to ride past the glep guards and take a message to Magister Dion. The message is really for Shard as much as for the Mayor, but Shard will accept orders only from Dion.”
“Why not send me?” Axe offered.
“No. Shard remembers you.”
Nimmy said, “He may remember any or all of us. He went for his gun and came out shooting when we were on our way to the abbey last fall.”
Axe went to consult the warrior monks. When he came back, he said, “I suggest Gai-See. He’s the smallest target and rides the fastest horse. If he can’t find a way around, he can wait until dark and gallop right up Scarecrow Alley. There’s moon enough.”
Brownpony nodded and beckoned to Gai-See, then instructed him to avoid any contact with the families that guarded the passage. “Tell this to Dion: ‘On the east, open gates to the Wilddog and to the Grasshopper. On the west, send gifts to the Curia.’ Now repeat that, please.”
“On the east, open gates to the Wilddog and to the Grasshopper. On the west, send gifts to the Curia.”
“Good! Then remind him of what Nimmy and I saw in the hand of the Hannegan. I sent him a message about it from the abbey. If he got it, he will know what has to be done. Afterward, he will provide you with a well-laden pack mule. Leave New Jerusalem from the west and come on to Valana as fast as you can.”
Gai-See dismounted, bowed to the cardinal, and sat down beside the trail. “He’ll wait until dark,” said Axe. “I too think it’s safer that way.”
Brownpony looked at Blacktooth. “Why so disappointed?” he asked.
“It’s nothing, m’Lord.”
“You were hoping someone would be able to find out if Ædrea is in her father’s house?”
“I know it’s not practical. It would be dangerous.”
“Never mind. Gai-See can ask the Mayor about her.”
“And get the same kind of truth about her as he gave to me?”
Brownpony shrugged. “I can’t tell Dion what to say or do, except with my own property.”
It was the first time the cardinal had spoken of the arsenal as his own property, but that was not Blacktooth’s concern.
“M’Lord, I wish Gai-See would not mention Ædrea to Dion.”
“Why not?”
“Because he will be wondering about a spy or a traitor when Gai-See tells him about the gun we saw in Filpeo’s hand. And Ædrea ran away from home during that time. We know where she went, but the Mayor may not believe her.”
The cardinal looked down at Gai-See. “Did you hear and understand that?”
“Yes, m’Lord Cardinal. I’ll be discreet.”
“We’ll see you in Valana. Now, let’s ride a mile or so back into the juniper scrub.”
Three days later, they camped in the scrub half a mile east of the papal highway on the evening of Monday, April 3rd. It would be the night of the Paschal full moon of Holy Week, but the sun was not yet set, and because their food supply was running short, Nimmy went forth in search of roots and edible greens that might be beginning to sprout, while Wooshin took the party’s only firearm and went to hunt small game while the cardinal’s warriors gathered wood and tended the fire. Brownpony himself, clearly exhausted from the long journey and developing a nasty cough, wrapped himself in blankets and with his head on a saddle, fell asleep before dark.
Blacktooth dug up a few bulbs of last year’s wild onions from the bank of a half-frozen creekbed; they had little value except as seasoning, in case the Axe came back with meat. Of course it was a day of Lenten abstinence, but it was also an emergency, especially for the cardinal, who had never fully recovered from his ordeal in the breeding pit. Nimmy tried to keep track of his direction from camp by watching the sunset, the stars of twilight, and finally the glow of the campfire in the distance. He found yucca, and uprooted some skinny tubers from the hard ground with a sharp stick.
He heard two gunshots, and decided that they came from Wooshin’s pistol, but they were closely followed by a third—too closely for the Axe to have reloaded. A horse galloped past along a creekbank at the foot of the hill, and he caught a glimpse of a Nomad rider. There was a burst of shouting from the direction of the camp, accompanied by one more gunshot, but he could make out only the voices of Foreman Jing and Woosoh-Loh in their native tongue, until he heard Axe shout a death threat in poor but understandable Wild-dog, and a weaker echo from the cardinal that the threat was real and enforceable.
Nimmy hurried back toward the firelight as quietly as possible. Two Nomad outlaws were sitting on the ground with their hands tied behind them, surrounded by Brownpony’s guards. The cardinal himself was sitting up in his bedroll. A strange small horse was tied to a juniper, and two unfamiliar muskets were propped against a log.
“Nimmy, where are you?”
It was Brownpony’s voice. Blacktooth hurried into the firelight and dumped the yucca and wild onions beside the body of a dead wilddog. The cardinal winced at the odor of the onions.
Wooshin explained. Three motherless ones with only one horse among them had tried to steal two horses from the cardinal. One had succeeded but the men who had dismounted to search and rob Brownpony had been surprised and captured by Axe and the others who had heard their approach.
The scruffy Nomads were looking around in terror at the strange warriors with their long blades.
“Nimmy, you tell them what the situation is,” said Axe with a wink.
Blacktooth brushed the root dirt from his robe and went to stand behind his master. Facing them across the fire, he drew himself up, pointed at one of the men, and said in impeccable Grasshopper:
“I know you. You haunt this region. Now you have accosted the Vicar Apostolic to the hordes, to whom even the Qæsach dri Vørdar Ösle Høngan Chür comes for counsel, not to mention the Grasshopper sharf, Eltür Bråm. Your fellow bandit has just stolen the horse of the High Shaman of all Christendom, the next Sharf and Great Uncle of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. He has also been chosen by the Buzzard of Battle; the Weejus have announced it.”