In the deep window alcove, with his head almost outside, Marek had not heard Wulf’s arrival. He could not see the bailey from there, but was it possible to creep up on a Speaker? Wulf slammed the door.
Marek jumped, spun around, and tried to cover his nudity with his arms, in a curiously feminine gesture. Many of the cuts wrapped around his ribs to his chest.
“Wulfgang!”
“Marek. What brings you here?”
“Cowardice.” Marek reached for his discarded black habit, squatting rather than bending, as if trying not to expose his back. Or perhaps bending hurt.
Wulf shot the bolt. He removed his gloves and threw them angrily on the bed. “Never heard that word in this house before.” His cloak followed, then his hat.
“You saw my stripes?” Marek was clutching the habit in front of himself as a shield, not moving to put it on.
“I caught a glimpse.” As he was meant to? “I’d rather not see any more. Who did that to you?”
“Brother Lodnicka.” Marek smiled thinly. “He has a mighty arm. Fifty lashes on Monday and another fifty next Monday. I couldn’t face the thought of more, so I ran away.”
“Merciful Heaven! I don’t blame you. What sin requires that sort of penance?”
Marek smiled thinly. “I disobeyed orders. I was told to take you and Anton to the scriptorium so the abbot and the master of discipline could eavesdrop on you. I failed.”
“Because we saw through you and refused? You were flogged for that? That’s insane!”
“I had been given permission to seek aid from my Voices. I could have compelled Anton, as long as I was close to him. I was warned that it might not work on you.”
Wulf thought a silent prayer of thanks. “I am grateful to you. But just for that they tied you up and gave you-”
“Not tied up. I had to stand for the strokes. It is a test of commitment and obedience.”
It certainly would be. Wulf shuddered. “To prove that you wouldn’t call on your Voices? And today, how did you get away?”
Marek hung his head. “I slipped away in the dark, after matins. I went to the stable. I recognized Morningstar, of course. Then, when I had saddled him, I asked my Voices, St. Methodius and St. Uriel, to bring me to Dobkov. I have broken my oaths, Wulf. I am an apostate, a damned soul.”
Lies! Wulf felt ill.
“Why haven’t you asked the Voices to heal your back?”
Marek whispered. “I swore that I would not.”
“Then why don’t I ask my Voices to do it?”
“No!”
“Why not?” Wulf asked, wondering if his brother had been driven insane.
Marek gave him a sheepish little smile. “I’ll explain later.”
“I know nothing about Speaking. I expect you to teach me, now that you’re here.”
Marek crouched to rummage in the saddlebag. “Did you call on your Voices when you were at Koupel?”
“Only after we left you. Why?”
“Do you notice a strange glow when you call on your Voices, a light you can see even with your eyes closed?”
“Yes.”
“Other Speakers can see it too, did you know?”
Wulf’s heart skipped a beat as he hastily thought back over the last few days, to times when he had called on Helena and Victorinus. Had he ever done so when he might have been observed by strangers? “No, I didn’t. Thanks for the warning.”
Marek had produced another habit, but was making no move to put it on. “You decided not to go to the northern marches? I’m glad.”
“Yes, we did go. And I have to go back there.”
Someone rattled the door. Wulf walked over to it.
“We’re all right,” he said loudly. “We’re chewing over old times.”
“Sure?” asked Otto’s voice.
“Quite sure. We’ll come and join you shortly.”
Wulf sat on the stool and removed his spurs.
Smiling, Marek came over to help him with his boots. “And where is Anton? Even the baroness says she doesn’t know.”
“Anton is currently holding a castle that the Wends are likely to attack with cannon and Satanism any day now. He can’t withstand them with the men he’s got. I’m his resident miracle worker.”
“False miracles,” Marek murmured. “Witchcraft.”
“We’ll talk about that, too. Tomorrow Vlad’s going to join us. In effect, King Konrad’s chief minister has appointed the Magnus brothers defenders of the kingdom. And now that you’ve arrived, it will be four against the Wends.”
Marek was just standing, watching him with wide eyes. “Four of us? Two men-at-arms and two Speakers?”
“Correct. And maybe Otto as our counsel and liaison with the court.”
“I was not sent to join you, Wulf! I ran away, I told you.”
He had not produced the Greenwood password.
Wulf stood up to remove his doublet and shirt. Standing close, he could look down on Marek even more than Anton looked down on him; the difference was that he tried not to. “Brother-and I call you that because we are of one blood, not because you were forced into a monastery against your will-Brother, you have been lying to me. You said you saddled Morningstar after matins, which is twelve hours ago now, but he arrived here so fresh that Achim says he’s still frisky. Tell me the real reason you will not cure your tattered back.”
Marek dropped his eyes and said nothing.
“And why you thought I had not been to the northern marches. Was that because I asked about your back?”
The smaller man looked up, surprised. “Yes. You know this? The Voices cannot hurt me when I am already in pain. One pain cancels out the other and pays for the false miracles. Without that, I could not have endured the agony of my journey through limbo.”
Why was he just standing there holding the habit, instead of dressing?
“If that’s what they teach you, they’re lying. I suffered for my journey from Koupel to Castle Gallant, yes. My Voices told me that pain was the price I chose, so the next time I asked them for a miracle, I refused that price. I don’t feel pain now when I Speak.”
“Oh, Brother, what worse pain are you saving up for eternity?”
“I’ll worry about that later.” Wulf reached out a hand.
Marek stepped back. Wulf followed until his brother was backed against the wall. Then he gripped his bare shoulders. “Holy St. Helena and St. Victorinus?”
The Light flooded the room. Marek’s eyes widened.
“Please will you cure these wounds on my brother?”
— Of course, since you ask.
“And tell me if his superiors at Koupel have been lying to him?”
— Of course they have.
“Thank you.”
The Light faded.
Wulf turned Marek around. The skin of his back was whole, unscarred.
Marek sighed. “Thank you, Brother. That does feel better. What did they tell you?”
“They said of course you’ve been lied to! But my Voices would say that whether they were angels or devils, wouldn’t they?” Wulf went to the chest where he had put his meager wardrobe. “Can you and I share the truth now, as we know it?”
Wrapping himself in his gown, Marek said, “You’re asking me to pit one loyalty against another, but the abbot did that first, and it’s clear that he’s been deceiving me. You have almost convinced me that the Voices are who they say they are.” He went over to the empty hearth and sat on the hob. “I don’t know much, but ask me what you want to know. No more lies, I swear.”
Wulf started lacing his trunk hose to his shirt. The brothers stared at each other. It was not a time for smiles.
“You were sent here?”
Nod.
“To do what?”
“To locate you so that we… so that they could come and apprehend you before you do any more of the devil’s work.”
“How do you ‘apprehend’ a Speaker?”