Brother Paul whispered a prayer under his breath as he accompanied the wizard into the smoke. The vicar had heard the tales of what the inside looked like. Both Old Maga and Henry Fitz-Matthew had described it, so he was prepared. Even so, he stopped when they cleared the gate towers and looked around. The castle of Mecq was not the only castle that Brother Paul had ever seen. He had spent the first two years after he took his final vows as a mendicant, traveling the countryside much as Silvas claimed to. Brother Paul had walked, though, and there had been no such refuge as this for him to retreat to every night. Brother Paul had seen castles, including some of the finest in the kingdom, and none could begin to compare with this one.
"It is known as the Glade, sometimes as the Seven Towers," Silvas said.
"It isn't raining," Brother Paul noted. "Has the shower stopped and the sky cleared so quickly?"
"Not at all. It's still raining in Mecq. But we are no longer there. If you were to leave through the postern instead of the main gate, you would find yourself many scores of leagues from Mecq."
"This represents a most powerful magic," Brother Paul said, carefully understating his impression. The pillar of smoke had been enough to convince the friar that Silvas was truly a wizard-potent. Seeing what that smoke concealed made him completely revise his opinion of what wizard-potent meant. He could scarcely conceive the level of power that would be required to establish and maintain this magic. Until this moment he would never have credited that any mortal could have done it. He would have termed this a god-like power.
"Our Unseen Lord allows me this refuge," Silvas said, as if he could follow the friar's thoughts. "It is not something I could accomplish on my own."
That brought Brother Paul's eyes back from their sightseeing. He turned and met the wizard's gaze.
"We are not so much different, you and I," Silvas said. "I believe that we serve the same Lord. Our missions are different. You are of the church-pastoral. My role is somewhat more… militant, shall we say. The comforts of the flock are not for all of our Unseen Lord's servants."
"A wolf in the sheepfold?" Brother Paul could not repress the question, but Silvas merely smiled.
"Even the wolf has a purpose to fulfill," the wizard said. "You said that you have received word about me from Bishop Egbert."
"Yes. Quite a long message under the circumstances."
"Come, I'll give you a tour of the Glade and we can talk," Silvas said.
"That might be… educational," the friar said after another short hesitation.
Silvas laughed. "An excellent choice of words, Vicar."
Silvas led the way around the courtyard, identifying the various outbuildings. They stopped briefly at the stable, so Bay would see that the vicar had come to call. "You will note that Bay is the only horse of his size here. The rest are quite ordinary in that respect. Bay is unique," Silvas told Brother Paul, thinking, In more ways than you suspect. Then they went on to the keep, stopping in the great hall for wine and to sit in comfort for a few minutes.
"In part, the bishop's message was as you suggested," the vicar said. "In truth, he quoted the exact passage you did." Brother Paul managed a look of trifling embarrassment over that. "Even so, I am certain that it was Bishop Egbert who contacted me." He took another sip of wine and complimented Silvas on it before he continued.
"The bishop said that your work is not unknown to the White Brotherhood and that even His Majesty has looked with favor on your efforts. He also instructed me to pose you a question."
"What question is that?" Silvas asked.
The friar closed his eyes as he quoted, " 'Who dies on the altar of Canterbury?' " Then he opened his eyes to watch Silvas's face.
The wizard smiled. The question was from the initiation rites into the Greater Mysteries of the White Brotherhood, something that would be beyond Brother Paul's knowledge.
" 'No one dies there but the ghost of a ghost from another time in another world,' " Silvas said, quoting the ritual response.
"That is the answer I was to look for," Brother Paul said.
"It is not the surest test of one such as I, but it covers many of the possibilities." Silvas smiled. "Unless you would like more wine first, we still have a lot to see. Let me show you the view."
Brother Paul drained his goblet and stood. "I am most curious to learn as much as I can of this place," he said. I am most curious to learn as much as I can of you, he thought. Silvas smiled again, understanding the unspoken as well as the spoken message.
"Are you so nearly alone in this castle?" Brother Paul asked as they climbed the main stairs to the levels above the great hall. They had seen only a handful of human retainers since the friar entered the smoke. There had been no sight of any of the non-human servants.
"I have staff enough for my needs," Silvas said. Bosc and his kindred, and the lupine warriors, were very efficient at staying out of sight. It was a "magic" they were long used to performing. They always seemed to know when not to startle a visitor with their presence. "They are busy at their work, I would say," Silvas told the vicar. "I have good people. They do not need constant oversight."
"A most fortunate advantage," the vicar said.
"It is," Silvas agreed, ignoring the hint of sarcasm he thought he detected in the words. "Have a look at this view." They stopped at a window that looked out over the walls of the Glade. Silvas stepped aside to let Brother Paul get close.
"That is certainly not the valley of Mecq," the friar said after a moment of looking at the long, narrow valley with its lush forest and healthy fields, "though there was once a time when Mecq might have looked this inviting." Brother Paul looked for anything that he might recognize, but by the time he took his gaze from the view he had decided that it was no place he had ever been to.
"It is a good place," Silvas said. "I have another view for you." It took several minutes to reach the turret off the east tower so Brother Paul could look out over Mecq.
"It is still raining," the friar noted. Most of the villagers were still out in it. "There will be many with chills and fever by morning, I think."
"They will welcome even that," Silvas said with a chuckle. The vicar nodded in agreement. "How runs the Eyler?"
"Deeper than I have seen it but twice in my years here," the friar said, looking to the side. "I have never seen Mecq from this vantage." He took considerable time looking at his church, the inn and mill, the cottages, even Sir Eustace's castle.
"How can your castle be in two locations at once?" Brother Paul asked when he finally turned away from the view.
"It cannot and is not," Silvas said. "The Glade never moves from the place where it was built. The magic of the smoke merely lets me travel between it and wherever I have erected the pillar. As I said, it is a comfort that our Unseen Lord permits me."
"A most generous comfort."
"It is indeed," Silvas agreed. "But there is a price, as you might imagine."
The vicar's "Yes?" was more question than statement of agreement.
"There is more that we need to speak of now that you have your word of me. Let's go to my library for that."
They had passed through the library on their way up to the turret, as they had passed through Silvas's conjuring room. Going back down, Brother Paul got another surprise. Satin and Velvet joined them in the conjuring room. The sight of the big cats gave the friar a visible start-the first sight in the Glade that had managed to discompose him.
"They are but overlarge pets," Silvas said. "They are friendly to friends."
"They look as though they would…" The friar wasn't sure how to finish the statement, so he let it hang.
"They are efficient guards at need as well," Silvas said. Brother Paul nodded.
In the library, a space had been cleared on a small table for a silver tray that held a carafe of wine, two crystal goblets, and a plate of fruit and cheese. Satin and Velvet curled up on the floor, but they kept their eyes on Silvas and Brother Paul.
"Help yourself, Vicar," Silvas invited, gesturing at the food while he poured wine.
"More invisibly efficient servants?" Brother Paul asked as he selected a small cube of cheese. He tried to restrain the impulse to stare at the cats, with only moderate success. They made him nervous enough that his hand started to move to the cross hanging from his neck.
"Efficient, yes; invisible, no," Silvas said. "I would guess that my lady Carillia is responsible for this. She would have directed the servants to prepare for us."
"I would be honored to meet your lady and thank her for her attentiveness," Brother Paul said.
"You shall," Silvas said. "I imagine that she merely waits for us to conclude our discussions."
Brother Paul tasted the wine. It was the same vintage he had drunk in the great hall, aromatic, just slightly sweet, and potent. The contrast worked well with the cheese and with the fruit that the vicar sampled while he waited for the wizard to get to the additional talk he had mentioned.
"There is more at stake in Mecq than water or a few people with illnesses," Silvas said finally. "I have been given-call it a vision. The hows and whys of it escape me, I confess, but somehow Mecq has become a focal point for a major confrontation." There was a limit to what Brother Paul would accept. Silvas wasn't completely certain where he would find that limit, though. The vicar had proclaimed himself an initiate of the Lesser Mysteries, and much of what Silvas had seen and heard was far beyond those.
"The Blue Rose seems poised for an attempt to overthrow the White Brotherhood," Silvas said, speaking slowly now. "For the first time, perhaps, they seem to have real power behind them." He paused and then said, "Considerable power."
"Satanic power?" Brother Paul asked.
"You would call it that," the wizard agreed. "It is even one of the names that Bishop Egbert would have for it." Silvas nodded, mostly to himself. That should give Brother Paul some clue without calling in question the things he would have been taught.
"More power than you yourself have?" the friar asked.
"If it is all applied against me, certainly," Silvas said. "If our Unseen Lord did not stand beside me, I would be hopelessly outmatched."
"My flock remains in danger?"
"Grave danger," Silvas said. "They have been in grave danger since the Blue Rose decided that Mecq was important-and I still don't know the reason for that importance. It may simply be the connection of Sir Eustace's father to the crusade against them. There might be more that I haven't discovered yet." Silvas shrugged. "But together you and I may be able to protect the villagers from the worst of the wrath of the Blue Rose."
"You speak so casually, as if you are accustomed to facing this manner of evil routinely," Brother Paul said. He was having difficulty matching the wizard's tone. Heavenly Father, protect your servant and his flock, he prayed. Give me the strength I need to serve.
"I have never faced it before," Silvas said. "Perhaps no mortal has ever faced so much." Careful, don't infect him with all of your worries, he thought. "But I have been trained for this. It is why our Unseen Lord has permitted me the life he has."
"A weapon waiting for the need?" Brother Paul asked.
He has a mind! Silvas thought with some sense of triumph.
"I have thought of it that way," the wizard admitted. He may be of more help than I expected.
"Is there anything in particular that I should watch for?" Brother Paul asked. "Anything I can do to guard my people?"
Silvas shrugged. "For a moment I can hardly say. You will take what measures you normally would, of course. Vigilance is important. The sooner we know of anything happening, the faster we can take whatever specific actions are needed."
Brother Paul took several moments to consider that sipping lightly at his wine, though he scarcely noticed it. More prayers went through his mind. He felt a trill of fear, but he met that with more prayers for strength and faith. Finally he blinked several times and looked up to see Silvas watching him.
"You have given me a lot to think over-and pray over," the friar said. He looked around. "For now I think I should return to my church. There might be some who would look for me."
Silvas nodded and rose. "With a little rain and water, some may even look for reassurance that Blethye won't come riding through the pass with his soldiers."
"Do you believe His Grace contaminated by the Blue Rose?"
"I have no knowledge of it, Vicar, and I hesitate to accuse a man of such a sin without certain knowledge."
Brother Paul nodded, softly, distracted.
"Come, I'll see you to the gate," Silvas said.
They walked quietly. The friar hardly noticed the walk. He even forgot to worry about the two large cats that trailed behind them. They were in the courtyard before Brother Paul even recalled that Carillia had not appeared.
"I missed my chance to give my thanks to your lady," the vicar apologized.
"I will convey them. Perhaps you will have another chance later."
– |After Brother Paul left, Silvas stood for a moment just inside the gate. He let out a long breath. Within limits, he could count on the friar as an ally. Though he is not yet certain of me, Silvas reminded himself. He will not commit himself fully, even though I have his bishop's blessing. The thought of Brother Paul's caution brought a smile to Silvas's face. So much the better. He will be less likely to fall for any ruse the Blue Rose might try. If only he had a little more power. Silvas did not discount allies. If he was indeed about to face the challenge he foresaw, he would take any help he could find.
"I have no guarantees," he said softly.
He looked at the clear sky over the Seven Towers and thought of the rain over Mecq. I should go back out there. If the Blue Rose does respond immediately, I need to see it as soon as possible. In any event, the people of Mecq will worry less if they see me. Some would undoubtedly see the rain and the increased flow of the Eyler as an invitation to disaster. Some would feel fear as soon as the initial relief started to pale. And if Silvas wasn't there, they would worry that he was leading them to disaster and leaving them to face it alone.
"In a few moments," Silvas said. He went back inside the keep. He wanted to ask Carillia her impressions of the vicar. Even though she had not showed herself, Silvas was certain that she had been close by.
He was just crossing the great hall toward the rear stairs up to his quarters when Koshka came running down from those stairs.
"My lady sent me to tell you that another visitor approaches," the small servant said, puffing just a little. "A young lady riding a horse."
"Thank you, Koshka." Silvas hid his frown until he had turned back toward the entrance. A young lady riding. I don't need wizardry to guess who it must be. He walked back toward the main gate, in no hurry. It had to be Maria, and Silvas was far from certain that he wanted to deal with her just then. There was something about her youthful eagerness-even ardor, to credit Carillia's impression-that made Silvas uncomfortable. There seemed to be unsuspected depths to the girl that Silvas was hesitant to explore.
"Lord Wizard!" Silvas heard her call before he reached the gate. "Are you there?"
"I'm here," Silvas mumbled. He took a deep breath while he looked at the smoke. For a moment he considered turning around and letting Sir Eustace's daughter go unanswered.
"But, like as not, she'd just sit there and shout her head off until I did answer." He shook his head and stepped into the smoke. By the time he emerged on Mecq's side of it, there was a smile in his voice.
"Good afternoon, Maria," he said. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
"It's raining," Maria observed, as if Silvas might not have noticed. She held her hand out, palm up, catching a few drops.
"I know it's raining," Silvas replied. "Would you like to come in out of it?"
She actually hesitated for a moment.
"Strange tales have reached my father," she said. "That you live in a fairy-tale palace with soaring towers and all manner of strange servants. I came because I would not like to think that people are making up stories to keep me occupied."
"Your father doesn't think very kindly of me," Silvas said. "I doubt that he would approve of your visit."
"My father does not think kindly of anyone," Maria replied airily, flicking her hand to the side in a gesture of dismissal. "It is raining," she repeated.
"It might be better to dismount and lead your horse," Silvas said, accepting that he would not be able to convince Maria to forgo the visit. "Horses are sometimes averse to smoke."
"Your horse isn't," Maria said, as if that were a challenge.
"Bay is quite used to this smoke. He is quite a remarkable steed. Would you like a hand?"
Maria swung herself down from her horse, a young gray mare, instead of answering. I can dismount without help. I am not a child. But she smiled at Silvas as she moved to the horse's head to take a tight grip on the reins.
"Telia is well trained," Maria said.
"This way, then." Silvas gestured into the smoke. Despite Maria's assurances, Silvas was careful to position himself close enough to be able to grab for the horse's bridle if Telia reared or tried to bolt to avoid the smoke.
The horse did object, but Maria was able to handle her. When they emerged from the smoke inside the Glade, though, she let go of the reins. Her mouth fell open.
"It hasn't rained at all here!" was her first comment, almost a protest.
"We are no longer in Mecq," Silvas informed her.
Maria did not follow up on that. "This place could not possibly fit inside the tower of smoke. You cast dreams before my eyes!"
"You see what you see," Silvas said, sternness struggling with amusement in his voice. "This is my home."
"I've never seen a castle this large." Maria omitted the fact that she had never seen any castle but her father's before. Her sixteen years had been confined to the valley of Mecq. Sir Eustace rarely traveled, and when he did, he didn't take his daughter along.
"May I look through it?" she asked, torn between the forms of politeness and the strength of her desire to see every part of this castle.
"As you will." Silvas gave her another bow and kept his voice polite. He would not be made out to be a poor host, but he was already looking for ways to cut her visit short. Maria didn't get the same tour Brother Paul had, and Silvas didn't linger. They crossed directly to the keep after Maria tied Telia's reins to a ring set in the curtain wall.
Satin and Velvet were at the door of the keep to meet them. But the wizard's first hope for cutting short the visit failed.
"They're beautiful!" Maria said, crouching to get closer to the cats. Satin and Velvet both permitted her to stroke their necks. They nuzzled her sides for a moment before looking to Silvas.
"They are beautiful," he agreed, disappointed that she showed not the slightest fear of the cats-and surprised that Satin and Velvet had permitted her such familiarity on first meeting. The cats were rarely so hospitable.
"What are their names?" Maria asked. Silvas told her, indicating which was which. Then, reluctantly, Maria stood and turned to the wizard again. "I knew this place would be full of wonders. Are there more?"
"No more cats," Silvas said. "Satin and Velvet are the only ones of their sort, and they will not tolerate lesser felines."
"I can hardly wait to see what other wonders you have," Maria said, an unmistakable prompt.
Silvas told Maria a little about the Seven Towers as he guided her into the great hall. There were a number of servants about, but again they were all normal humans.
"What strange benches," Maria said, crossing to one of the tables that served Bosc's people. "How could anyone sit like that?"
"Different people have different ways." Silvas was surprised that she had spotted the benches so quickly. "I have no objection to accommodating other ways." She has a quick mind, Silvas thought, giving her grudging credit for that.
"There is someone you should meet," he said as he led Maria up the main stairs to the apartments above the great hall. And Carillia was there, in the larger of their sitting rooms, not the one next to their bedchamber.
"Carillia, my love, this is Maria, the daughter of Sir Eustace." After the two said their greetings to each other, Silvas took Carillia's hand for a moment.
"Maria would like to see all the wonders of the Glade, my love, and I must get back to oversee the rain in Mecq. If you would be so kind?"
"Of course, my heart," Carillia said. Her smile threatened to explode into laughter, but she fought to control it, knowing that Silvas would see her struggle.
"My duty does call," Silvas said with a bow to Maria. "Besides, Carillia can give you a much better tour than I could."
And then he made his exit as quickly as he could. Maybe now that she knows that I already have a lady, she will turn her fantasies elsewhere, Silvas thought. Hoped.