by Rick Shelley
"I gave the bishop your message, Vicar," the rider said.
Brother Paul nodded and said, "Bide a moment. Get a drink of Master Ian's ale in you first, Willam." The boy arrived with the mug. Willam took a long drink and then smacked his lips.
"His Excellency says he knows of the wizard Silvas," Willam said, looking from vicar to wizard and back.
"The bishop has communicated that to me already," Paul said. "But there was more?"
"Aye, more an' some. He gathered the cathedral chapter in solemn conclave." Willam said that sentence very slowly and carefully, as if he had rehearsed it repeatedly so he would make no mistakes. "He's comin' here himself, with such of the cathedral monks as he can bring, an' quick like." Willam paused for another drink. Silvas and Brother Paul looked at each other. Even before Willam continued, both could make an excellent guess at what else he would say.
"Bishop Egbert, he says there's great danger at hand, more'n a country vicar—beggin' yer pardon—could handle." Willam gave Brother Paul an apologetic look.
"I understand, Willam," the vicar said. "I know my limits. I am but an initiate of the Lesser Mysteries. Bishop Egbert is an adept of the Greater. That is as God has ordained it."
"Aye, Vicar." Willam shifted his mug to his left hand so he could cross himself. He finished the ale and set the mug on the stump next to him.
"We will have need for Bishop Egbert and the members of his retinue," Silvas said, speaking across Willam at Brother Paul. Silvas didn't know the bishop, but he knew that as an adept, a master of the Greater Mysteries, Bishop Egbert would be a magician of considerable ability... if nowhere near Silvas's level. And the bishop might understand some of what the wizard had experienced since coming to Mecq. Initiation to the Greater Mysteries of the White Brotherhood took a man beyond the limits of public dogma. He might even have answers for me, Silvas thought.
Master Ian came across the green. He held a small keg under one arm and three mugs in his free hand. Willam got up from the stump, and the innkeeper set the keg on it.
"It looked like ye might all have need of a drink," Master Ian said. "An' don' reach fer yer purse, Master Wizard, not for this 'un. I got my lads settin' up fer the whole village after last night." He set the mugs on the stump and started filling them. The first went to Silvas, the second to Brother Paul. Then Master Ian refilled Willam's mug before he filled one for himself.
"Your health, Master Ian," Silvas said, raising his mug to the innkeeper before he drank.
"An' yours, sir," Master Ian replied. He took a long drink, then said, "You might want to drink deep. We have us company comin' down from the hill." He pointed with his mug.
Silvas and the others looked toward Mecq's castle. There was traffic on the road coming down. Silvas narrowed his gaze. Sir Eustace and Henry Fitz-Matthew rode in front. The two ladies behind them were Eleanora and Maria. A number of other people walked along behind, lagging more every minute.
"It looks like help is finally coming from another quarter," Silvas said, not bothering to disguise his lack of enthusiasm for that help.
Brother Paul gave the wizard a quick, sharp glance. "Likely they had their own damages to repair after the storm," he said. "The lightning was even more fierce up on the hill."
"Did Fitz-Matthew say how bad it was up there?" Silvas asked—very softly, turning so that he faced only the churchman.
"He said it was terrible," Brother Paul said. "The look of that was in his eyes."
"Like as not," Silvas said, holding back a sigh and letting the discussion die. I shouldn't be so quick to judge, he told himself. I let the man's style sway me. He quickly finished his ale and turned to set the empty mug on the stump.
"Best have another while you have the peace," Master Ian urged, refilling the tankard before Silvas could answer.
"My thanks, sir," Silvas said, toasting him again. "I find your thane difficult to deal with."
Master Ian did not reply.
—|—
"I expected to see you up on the hill before this," Sir Eustace said as he approached Silvas and the others.
"I thought it more important to take care of the most urgent needs of the people here first," Silvas replied. "Brother Paul and I have nearly finished our circuit. If you would care to join us? There is still plenty of work to be done to repair the ravages of the storm." Silvas mounted Bay, not so much because he still needed the horse to carry him about, but for the height advantage. Silvas felt stronger after his work in the village than he had before.
"There is work in my castle as well," Sir Eustace said. He turned to speak to Fitz-Matthew. "When our people catch up with us, put them to work here. You can see what remains to be done."
"Aye, lord," Fitz-Matthew said meekly.
"Vicar, what is left to see?" Sir Eustace said then, rather than addressing the wizard again.
"We were about to check the mill and then the cottages on this end." The friar gestured at the dozen houses on the south end of the village, away from the twin hills.
Eleanora and Maria reined in behind Sir Eustace then. He took no notice of their arrival. Silvas nodded to the ladies and took a moment to study their faces. Sir Eustace's wife looked very troubled. Eleanora would not meet Silvas's eyes, looking down, away, anything to avoid him. Silvas had no difficulty deciphering the change in her.
She might enjoy a little dalliance with a stranger of mystery and power, but she isn't ready for so much adventure, Silvas thought. He knew how he looked, haggard and probably a little angry. The residue of heavily used power would be with him, an odor as unmistakable as a horse's sweat. She has discovered that she has a much less adventurous spirit than she thought.
But Maria showed no such change. She met the wizard's stare with one even more intense. There was a flush of excitement about the girl that seemed almost sexual. Under Silvas's gaze she blushed deeply, but she resisted looking away for the longest time.
Silvas finally started Bay toward the mill. Sir Eustace stayed at his side, not too close. Brother Paul and Master Ian followed, and the ladies rode at the rear of the procession. Bay walked at almost a hesitation step to avoid putting a strain on the two men who were walking—and as a check against Sir Eustace's obvious impatience to hurry through this routine. Brother Paul provided a summary of the ills the village had suffered, the dead, the hurt, the damages.
"The men can't tell for certain yet, lord," Master Ian added, "but it looks as like we might lose one part in five of the harvest, perhaps more." Sir Eustace growled under his breath at that, but he didn't speak.
The completion of the tour took another half hour. The Eyler was two feet above the line of rocks that the villagers had laid across the riverbed during the early rain, falling toward that level now that most of the rain surge had passed. There were no serious damages to the last group of cottages, nor were there any injuries among the families that lived in them.
"We withstood the storm better than we might have, God be praised," Brother Paul said when they started back toward the church. "I feared it would be much worse."
"Bad enough," Sir Eustace said in his usual grumbling tones. He stared up at the wizard.
"It would have been worse without help," Silvas said, pitching his voice so that only Eustace would hear him. "The evil that struck in the night has been building here since your father took the cross. Perhaps longer."
"So you say," Sir Eustace replied almost as softly.
"It is my business to know such things," Silvas told him. "When you can do so in private, you might ask Brother Paul to explain just what he saw during the storm."
"Sir Eustace," Brother Paul called from behind. "I forgot. Bishop Egbert himself is coming to help, with the monks of his chapter."
That stopped the knight for a moment, but when he urged his horse onward again, all he said was a mumbled "A crowd of fat bellies to feed."
Silvas considered taking his leave of the others as they neared the pillar of smoke. If Sir Eustace had not been with
them, he would have—perhaps inviting Brother Paul and Master Ian in. But he didn't care to extend that hospitality to Sir Eustace, not yet. So he rode on to St. Katrinka's with the others. But he wasn't paying particular attention. His thoughts were back among the Seven Towers. A good meal, a hot bath, a chance to relax before night—and possibly another attack—came, those were the things he was thinking about.
He was startled when Brother Paul ran past him, toward the front of the church. Silvas looked at the vicar and then toward St. Katrinka's. Bay appeared to notice at the same time, and started walking at a more normal pace for him. Silvas nearly jumped from his horse's back, hurrying to Brother Paul's side.
A rose bush, two feet tall, mature, filled with leaves and thorns, sat next to the steps of St. Katrinka's. There had been nothing there just a couple of hours before. Brother Paul was already on his knees, clutching his crucifix and praying. Silvas stood next to him and stared at the single flower open at the top of the bush. Even better than the vicar, Silvas recognized the threat that the bloom represented.
The single open flower was a large blue rose.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Even Sir Eustace was shocked into momentary civility by the sight of the blue rose growing in front of the church.
"How did that get there?" he demanded.
"It wasn't here two hours ago, Sir Eustace," Brother Paul said, getting up to face the knight. "There wasn't so much as a sprout here when we talked to the people before Silvas and I started our circuit."
"They are throwing down the gauntlet," Silvas said, also turning toward Eustace. "The Blue Rose Cult is telling us that they are here and that they intend to own Mecq... or destroy it."
Eleanora crossed herself. Her face paled. Maria showed no reaction. Perhaps she leaned forward a little more in the saddle.
"Then we must expect more attacks?" Sir Eustace asked.
"More and stronger, I fear," Silvas said. "I hope that none comes before Bishop Egbert arrives to add his strength to the fight."
"He knows how serious our plight is," Brother Paul said. "And Bishop Egbert can travel apace when the need is upon him. I think we may look for him very soon, if not today, then perhaps as early as tomorrow. He should not be more than a day behind our William."
"I hope you are right, Vicar," Silvas said. "I will feel somewhat less besieged when the bishop and his monks stand with us."
"What should we do in the meantime?" Sir Eustace asked, looking back and forth between the friar and the wizard. The frown had returned to Eustace's face. He disliked the need to ask the wizard for instructions. He disliked relying on him for help. But he knew the threat of the Blue Rose. It had taken his father's life.
"Prayer and watchfulness," Silvas said. Brother Paul nodded agreement. "The vicar and I will take what measures we have at our disposal, but in general it comes down to prayer and watchfulness. I will erect what guards I can, but don't count on them to do overmuch. The forces of the Blue Rose are directed here by a wizard perhaps my equal in power." Perhaps even my master, Silvas thought, but he would not say that, certainly not in front of Sir Eustace. Pride is a common failing among wizards, Silvas conceded. I have my full share.
"On the chance that the Blue Rose does attack out of Blethye, you might take special care to watch the passes from the duchy, Sir Eustace," Silvas said. "The next attack might be physical."
The knight's face grew the fiercest scowl Silvas had yet seen on it. "We always keep watch on Blethye," he said.
"Even at the lesser pass beyond Mount Malq?" Silvas asked.
"Since you put the chance of a connection between Blethye and the Blue Rose in my head, yes."
"There remains a chance that such suspicion is unwarranted, but it is good to be prepared," Silvas said.
Silvas felt exhaustion creeping over him again. Silently he went through a spell for more energy, but he knew that there were limits. He had gotten through this much of the day on magical energy, and the price would have to be paid before long. What I really need is a chance to sleep through a full night without disturbance, he thought. I need to renew myself before the next attack. He blinked a couple of times and continued to watch Sir Eustace.
"Then we will do what we can to make sure we are not taken by surprise," the knight said. "Is there anything else?"
"I can think of nothing at the moment," Silvas said.
"Nor can I," Brother Paul said. "Prayer and watchfulness are always wise paths for the Christian."
"Then I had best find Fitz-Matthew and see what remains to be done," Sir Eustace said, tugging on his horse's reins to turn the animal. His ladies rode off with him.
"There is worse coming?" Master Ian asked. He had remained silent while Sir Eustace was around.
Silvas nodded. "It could get much worse, Master Ian. I wish that I could promise otherwise, but there are limits to my power—certainly against the Blue Rose."
"Should we not uproot this flower?" Brother Paul asked.
Silvas looked at the bush and tried to decide. "We might as well," he said after a moment. "It won't harm the power that put it there, but it might make your flock feel better."
Brother Paul started to bend toward the plant.
"Hold a moment, Vicar," Silvas said. "Have a care. I wouldn't want to be stuck by one of those thorns. There may be an enchantment laid on them."
"I have stout leather gauntlets that we use in the smithy," Master Ian said. "No rose thorn could ever prick you through them. I'll fetch them."
—|—
At last Silvas was able to take his leave. Even though the church was only a moment's walk from the entrance to the Seven Towers, Silvas rode. He was afraid that his exhaustion would show too clearly if he walked. It was a struggle just to keep his shoulders from sagging, but he knew that he did not dare do anything that might, even mistakenly, make the people of Mecq think that conditions were more desperate than they were. The truth is bad enough, he thought.
Silvas half expected a call before he got to the sanctuary of the Glade, but it didn't come. When the smoke closed around him, he slumped in the saddle, expelling a deep breath. If necessary, he could always claim that he hadn't heard any call that might come now. Fitz-Matthew and Brother Paul had called and waited before. No one would be able to read any more into a delay now.
Bay recognized the wizard's condition. He carried Silvas right to the entrance to the keep. Silvas dismounted slowly. Bosc came running around the corner from the mews, as usual, but the groom took one look at Silvas and stopped running. But he kept his silence.
"If the attack comes now, you are scarcely prepared to meet it," Bay told Silvas.
"I know." Silvas turned only halfway toward Bay. "I need food and sleep, at least a full night without any drain on my resources."
"At least," Bay agreed. "Do you think we will have that night?"
Silvas no longer had the energy to even shrug. "I hope so, Bay. I hope so." He went inside without waiting for any continuation.
Carillia met him in the main corridor in front of the great hall. "Supper is waiting for you, my heart." She moved to his side, pressing against him as if to take some of his weight on herself. Silvas didn't resist as she guided him into the great hall and up to their table. Servants were bringing in the food on steaming platters.
Silvas ate with more abandon than usual. The smell of food drove his already keen hunger beyond any thought of manners or moderation. There was a thick stew filled with several kinds of meat, a roast of beef, boiled cabbage, peas and carrots, onions, cheese and bread. There was also a platter of fruit, but Silvas hungered for more substantial food. He concentrated fully on eating for an uncommon length of time, hardly aware of Carillia nibbling at the meal with her usual gentility. But Carillia watched Silvas closely, marking how drawn and spent he appeared, worrying about him as she always did... and dreading the message she knew she must give him.
She waited as long as she could, letting him eat undisturbed until the pace of his eat
ing decreased considerably.
"My heart," she started, and then she waited until he turned to look at her. "I hate to burden you, but after the events of last night I must suggest another Council. The one we attempted was interrupted, you recall."
"I recall," Silvas said, and Carillia felt a flutter of fear at the way it seemed to drain him even more. "And you are no doubt right, my love. We do need another Council." He shook his head. "But it is impossible tonight. I lack the strength to begin a Council, let alone carry it through. If there's time after I've slept, then yes, but I must have sleep first."
"I understand, my heart." Carillia reached out to lay her hand on his arm. "I only hope that the Blue Rose gives us that time."
Silvas nodded more abruptly than he normally did to Carillia and returned to his eating. But the edge of his appetite was gone, and Carillia's words troubled him. He ate slowly for a few minutes more, then made an end of it. He stared at the platter in front of him, then looked up slowly, his gaze going to one of the hearths at the side of the room.
"I am almost of a mind to sleep on the floor here rather than climb to our chamber," he said.
"You would not rest so well down here," Carillia said. "Come, my heart. You can lean on me through the climb. I at least have had some chance to rest." She pushed her chair away from the table and stood.
Silvas leaned on the table to get up from his chair, but then he straightened up. He looked around the great hall again. Most of his people had finished their meals and left. Everyone had work to do, and long hours of it after the attack of the night before. And few wanted to observe their master when he was so obviously spent.
"I don't think I've been this tired since I completed my initiation rites," Silvas said as he shuffled toward the circular stairway behind the tapestry. "And I was much younger then."
"But not so wise, so experienced," Carillia said, her voice too positive for the words to be intended as mere flattery. She spoke as if she had positive knowledge of that younger Silvas, even though she had not come to the Seven Towers until much later, after the death of Auroreus.