Read Online Speak to the Devil by Dave Duncan - Free Book Online

was a proud man, accustomed to authority. So was the constable, and he must maintain his dignity before an audience made up of Ekkehardt’s mercenaries and his own troops. “On the contrary, my lord bishop: in matters of this world, mine is the authority. Until His Majesty appoints a new keeper, I shall continue to do my duty as the late count wished me to. He allowed the priest in and so shall I.”
    Bishop Ugne’s face was now redder than sunset. “He did, and see where it got him! Within a fortnight, he was dead, his son was dead, his wife distracted, and his ancient line extinguished.”
    Sir Karolis Kavarskas coughed down a laugh. “The man has a crooked eye, I agree, but does that frighten you? You seriously think he is a Speaker because of that?”
    The bishop spluttered. “I think he is a Speaker, yes, but not because of that. Those schismatics are in league with the Father of Evil. Havel was a professed Catholic until recently, when he sent his priest away. Now he is a puppet of the Wends.”
    “I think you should go and pray for peace, my lord bishop.”
    “You will not admit that heretic priest, Karolis, as you value your soul!” Now the Church’s threat was blatant and the soldier backed down.
    “As Your Reverence says.” Kavarskas beckoned over one of the archers and sent him down to the herald at the gate.
    “Thank you.” Bishop Ugne turned his back on the constable. “Come, Madlenka, we must go to the cathedral. Nobody can pester you while you are attending Mass. Giedre, you should run and warn your father to arrange a reception for Havel Vranov—but I think it should be a very small one.”
    “Wait!” Madlenka shouted. “Constable, when the count and his escort have been admitted, close the gate.”
    Kavarskas reddened. Before he could speak, Ekkehardt growled, “This seems a wise precaution.”
    “I am the one who makes such decisions!” the constable bellowed.
    “Well, I think I agree with the lady and the captain,” the bishop said.
    The constable gripped his sword hilt and glared at them all. It was a fine demonstration of how a castle without a keeper resembled a chicken without a head.
    “Do it!” Madlenka snapped and headed for the door. The bishop went with her, and Giedre followed.
    As they swept along the battlements with the wind at their backs, she said, “The constable has been bribed, hasn’t he?”
    “That is a very serious charge, Madlenka.”
    “I know. What do you think?”
    “Bought, like Judas?” He sighed. “It could be. Or he may just be frightened of the responsibility thrust upon him and hoping to lean on Count Vranov.”
    “And the
landsknecht
?”
    “Luitger Ekkehardt is a good Christian, for a soldier, and he obviously does not trust Karolis, but mercenaries usually serve the highest bidder. This fortress would be worth a great deal of money to the duke of Pomerania. We must pray that the Lord will have mercy on us and support his own.”

CHAPTER 5
     
    Wulfgang Magnus had not fallen off a horse since he was six years old, and would not have done so now had he not been seized by a sudden wrenching pain in his gut. He had been unhorsed in jousting often enough—although mainly by Vlad or Otto, only very rarely by Anton—and armor was designed to protect its wearer from just that mishap. In this case it saved him from minor cuts or bruises, but was no help at all right after the jarring impact, because he immediately needed to vomit. For several minutes, he could do nothing but writhe on the turf and retch, racked by appalling belly cramps. It was fortunate that he had not eaten anything that morning.
    When he finally managed to lift his head and look, Morningstar was still cavorting around, bucking and kicking in every direction. Sparrow was behaving himself because Anton had refused to tolerate such nonsense. He was now trying to catch the stupid courser before he entangled his feet in the reins. More red hot coals in the stomach …
    Anton rode