When the Saints Read Free

possibly save Castle Gallant single-handedly if the Wends had arrayed more than one Speaker against him—the yes pile . If Gallant fell, then both the boy and Zdenek himself were likely to go down with it— yes again. Archbishop Svaty might be willing to assign two or three of the Church’s Speakers to keep the Orthodox Wends from taking a Catholic fortress—the no pile. But Svaty’s price would certainly include the boy himself, and probably much else— yes . Lady Umbral was a trader in magic that the Church publicly condemned as Satanism, whatever it really believed, and thwheeved, aus her dealings must always be secret, and her reputation for honesty was vital to her continued success, but no one would ever dare denounce her if she cheated. Now that she knew about the boy, she must be bound by some sort of agreement, or she might feel free to grab him for her own purposes, leaving the castle, Zdenek, and Jorgary to fall together— yes, certainly .
    He sighed and nodded. “Your Justina must serve until the Wends withdraw, though. As you said, it cannot be very long.”
    “Until the Wends withdraw or the castle falls.”
    “If the castle and the boy survive, then you get one-third of him.” There might still be opportunities to renege on that part of the agreement. The Magnus family had a long tradition of patriotism and service to their king.
    “Agreed.”
    “The password is ‘Greenwood’.”
    “How do we arrange the travel?”
    “Brother Daniel has met Count Anton. Brother?”
    The friar nodded. “But the hour is late to go calling on a fortress under siege, Your Eminence. Men-at-arms in dangerous situations often strike first and ask questions later. Too late.” He removed his eye patch to let the visitors have a clear look at his face. “If you will come calling on me tomorrow morning at, say, terce, my lady, I shall be happy to conduct you to Cardice.”
    “I’m no ‘lady,’” the Speaker said. “Just Justina. I will see you then, Brother.”
    The women rose as one.
    “A pleasure doing business with you, Eminence,” Lady Umbral said.
    A gap seemed to open in the air itself. All three stepped through it and vanished, leaving the cardinal with his hand out, offering his ring to empty air.

CHAPTER 2

    “Can’t you even pretend to enjoy it?” Anton raged.
    A week ago he had been Lancer Magnus, most junior recruit in the king of Jorgary’s Light Hussars, living on gruel in a repulsive attic and forced to share a bed with Wulfgang. Now he was Count Magnus of Cardice, Companion in the Order of St. Vaclav, lord of the march, keeper of Castle Gallant, one of the premier noblemen of the realm. So life felt good, with a few exceptions. One of which was his current problem.
    “Pretend how, my lord?” she said. Her voice was muffled, because they were both deep in a feather mattress and buried under a mountain of down quilts. She was underneath.
    eight="0em" width="1em" align="justify"> He was on top, which he always preferred, and also inside, but not making much progress. He must have swived two dozen young girls in the seven years or so since he became capable, but none had been so unresponsive. Older women—there had been even more of those—had always agreed that he was a good lover, delivering as much pleasure as he took. But Madlenka had been bewitched, and there was only one man around Castle Gallant who could use witchcraft.
    Meanwhile, she was still waiting for instructions, although all he could do was repeat what he had told her a dozen times in the last three days. “Moan, thrash around. Bounce. Shriek. Bite and scratch. Above all, in the name of the Almighty, don’t just lie there and weep like that!”
    A week ago he had been stalking the bawds of the court, hoping to work his way into the bed, if not affections, of some rich lady who might expand his income and advance his career. Now he was married—or at least handfasted, which was as good as married—to the daughter of the