The Necromancer's Grimoire (23 page)

“Yes.” She sighed. She could see them now. “Alisdair is hidden beneath the straw in the cart. Thedra is rolled in a carpet among the baggage. Garreth leads the cart horse, and he is cloaked.”

“Where are they headed?”

“Thedra knows.”

Corbett interrupted. “More importantly, news will get out. This is a great insult to our host and shames all of us. And it will get worse.”

“Tell me, old man,” Montrose shouldered the baggage with one arm and grasped Nadira's arm with the other. “How can it be worse?” The deep hurt in his voice touched her heart. She put her hand on his.

Corbett told him. “It can get worse if Borelli appeals to the sultan for justice in this scandal. We would not be welcomed by any of the court. All access to the palace and to the necromancer would be cut off. We may be asked to leave the city before we have completed our mission.”

“What will we do?” William's eyes were large and round.

“First, we must start walking, for it will do us ill to be seen standing in front of Borelli's house.”

The four of them turned away from the gates of the house and moved to a smaller unpaved path that lead away from the main street. When they were far enough away Montrose stopped them. “Where do we go from here?”

Corbett shook his head. “We will have to stay at a
caravanserai
for now.”

Montrose objected. “An inn will not be safe. We would be at a great disadvantage in a public place. We are fair game for any of Borelli's friends. The Italians do not take kindly to insults involving women.”

“The sultan will withdraw his support publicly,” Nadira told them. “Of course he will. He must. But his fear of the necromancer has not abated because the concubine of a foreign nobleman has gone missing.”

“I'm afraid we will have to go to a
caravanserai
. Official documents take time to prepare. I will try to get to the ministers. Some silver may change hands.” Corbett weighed his purse in his hand.

“We will stay shut inside,” Montrose grumbled. “The door blocked.”

William carefully adjusted his valise over his shoulder. “I have every confidence in you, my lord. You will protect us.”

Montrose tugged at Nadira's arm. “Let's go. I feel sick.”

“I know you do,” she said softly.

Corbett led them north to where the cosmopolitan mix in Istanbul markets embraced travelers and merchants from all over the world. The four of them stepped aside for donkeys, push carts and horses. They nodded to fellow travelers in strange dress and stranger speech. They made their way through the crowd. Corbett stopped before a large building with many balconies on the second floor.

“This one is expensive and is owned by a
Mamluk
spice trader.”

“What good is money to a dead man?” Montrose reached for his purse. “This is the price we pay to stay alive. The Italians will avoid this place.”

Corbett pushed open the wood door to the ground floor public area that opened to the large courtyard. “The high price for a room will keep the ruffians at bay.”

“It is not the ruffians I fear.” Montrose handed him his purse. William and Nadira entered and moved to the side. She tucked her veil closer around her face. This early in the afternoon found the space nearly deserted. Two old men sat around a hookah, tiny porcelain cups rested on the table at their knees. They were only mildly curious as the
frenki
entered. The innkeeper spoke to Corbett in Latin for a few moments. Nadira waited until he made a sign for them to follow.

They entered a large atrium and were led up stairs to a cordoned walkway that was open on one side to the cool garden with its sparkling fountain and flowering shrubs. The walkway led to the many rooms on the second floor. The innkeeper stopped at one and pushed open the door for them.

Their room was large and airy with three windows and wide double doors that opened onto a balcony over the street. There was no real furniture to speak of, save four low stools and a narrow trestle table that held a tray for a candle. A large clay basin and two chamber pots were set near the door. This type of inn assumed the traveler came equipped with his own baggage and supplies and would sleep on the floor. The high price was for the storage space in the stables and the location so close to the bazaar, not for human comfort. They would have to buy blankets and food and candles. Corbett counted his coins for a moment, then left again for the souq with William in tow to help carry.

Montrose stood at the doors to the balcony, looking to the west but out of sight from the street. She moved to stand beside him. “They are sorry,” she told him.

He nodded. “I know.”

She took his hand. “A man will do amazing things when he is in love.”

He looked down at her. “Do you think so?”

She smiled. She felt Alisdair's regret, but also his elation. “He feels alive. Happy. Excited.”

Montrose squeezed her hand. “Will I never see him again?”

“Oh.” Nadira had always known they would meet again in a different place. The tone of his voice reminded her that what information came so easy to her was a vast mystery to the others. “Yes,” she assured him. “Very soon. Thedra takes him to a place where we will find him again. Robert, I am sorry I didn't tell you that at first.”

His heavy sigh seemed to deflate his entire body. She leaned into him. “He is safe,” she repeated. “He is happy. You will be reunited…but you will have to deal with Thedra from now on,” she laughed softly as she saw the two lovers in her mind. “She has him wrapped around her finger.”

Nadira was pleased to hear Montrose laugh with her. “That is difficult to imagine.”

“Oh, not so very difficult,” she said coyly, looking up at him.

His voice took on a more somber tone. “No. Perhaps not.” He lifted her hand and brought her fingers to his lips.

The next day Corbett left the caravanserai to meet with the sultan's ministers concerning the delicate subject of Borelli's complaint. He expected to be gone for days, as the traditional punishment for social misconduct was a long wait in the corridors of justice. They were surprised to hear his footsteps and his voice within hours. Montrose opened the door and stepped into the mezzanine, expecting trouble. The two men conversed in low voices for a few minutes, and then Montrose raised his.

“She must not be endangered.” Montrose stood firmly in the doorway, arms blocking Corbett's entry into the room. “Get the book if you will, but you cannot send her there alone.”

“I will go with her,” William interjected, but neither man acknowledged him.

“She must get the book. She is to use it; she must be the one to take it. I cannot. I thought I would, but now I see it is impossible. She must do it. Tonight.” Corbett appealed to her over the baron's arm.

“No.” Montrose was firm.

“Is this to be your role, then? To deny me at every turn? We will not be successful without her. You knew this day would come.” His gray eyes held a desperation that formed an image in Nadira's mind.

She gasped and Corbett backed quickly into the mezzanine, knowing she had seen inside him. Montrose turned to look at her. He had seen the flash in the old man's eyes, but did not know what it meant.
Corbett means to kill him if he stands in his way
. “You are mistaken if you think that is possible,” she said to Corbett in a dangerous voice. “The baron would make short work of you.” She moved to stand beside Montrose.

Montrose turned to look into the walkway. “Is that what he is thinking? Treachery? Will it come to that?” His voice was low. He bent to lift the sword that lay on a stool beside the door.

Corbett spoke from the mezzanine. “I have come this far. We must get the
Grimoire
from him tonight.”

Montrose stepped onto the walkway with him, the sword in his hand. “And what will you be doing while she is securing this book for you, Corbett?” Nadira clutched at his leathers as he passed by her. His sword arm jerked with a practiced movement that adjusted his grip on the blade.

She planted her feet, “Wait.”

He stopped and turned, then removed her hand from his brigandine. “He would sacrifice you to gain his reward. I will not permit it.”

“No,” Corbett answered with a glare as he took a step closer. “The
Hermetica
has made Nadira more powerful than you can understand, Baron. You have no idea. You are still thinking simple thoughts from your narrow life.” He looked down at Nadira. “She is now more powerful than the necromancer's apprentice, and will be greater yet once she gains this book. She does not need your protection. In the end, you will need hers.”

These words only darkened Montrose's mood. Nadira squeezed his hand. “My lord,” she said to him, “none doubt your strength. None doubt your resolve. I will have you beside me to clear a path…but at some point you must step aside to let me pass, and then you must follow me. That time is now.”

She tugged at him gently until he turned away from Corbett, sheathed the blade and reentered the room. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I will claim the
Grimoire
. I would have its power removed from the arsenal of the necromancer. He must no longer be able to use it to harm others.”

Montrose growled and turned back to the baggage. Nadira saw him rifling through the bags. He pulled out another dagger that he tucked in his boot, then a knife which went in the sheath at his waist. He yanked out his heavy baldric and then with increasing violence, various other implements of death emerged from the leather satchels and became part of his body. She turned to Corbett. “Come in, then. The baron will make certain none of the janissaries or guards trouble us while we work.” She moved from the doorway so Corbett could enter.

William said, “I will help. Tell me what I should do.”

He looked so different with the cassock gone. His loose tunic and brown trousers were more suited to a groom than a scholar. She wondered if arming him would help. She glanced at Montrose and planted that thought.

He paused as her thought entered his mind, then stood straight and turned from his cache of weapons to look at her. “You want me to give him…a knife?” He asked her.

“Please.”

He shook his arm and a small dirk appeared in his hand. She had not seen it slide from within his sleeve. She dimpled at him. “Is there a place on your body that does not contain a weapon?”

He gave her a pointed look. “No.”

William extended a hand. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Do you know how to use it?” Montrose asked gently.

“No,” William shook his head. “But I do know the pointy-end goes into the enemy.”

This reply prompted a short laugh from Montrose. “Good. That is the important part. I shall teach you the rest…”

“The time for that was weeks ago,” Corbett interrupted. “We cannot delay. We must act tonight. We must trust that he will not need it, or that he learns quickly.”

William examined the double-edged blade and tested the tip. “How do I keep from stabbing myself with it?”

“Sit down there.” Montrose kicked a stool toward him. William caught it and sat down. “I will strap it to your leg, just above the ankle. You can practice reaching for it.” Montrose took some leather thongs from his bag and went down on one knee beside William. Nadira crossed the room and touched Corbett's arm. She was aware of Montrose's blue eyes glancing up at her between the knots he tied on William's leg.

“Corbett. The necromancer will cast filaments of light that will paralyze your body. It will matter not how many knives you might have up your sleeve. I would know how you plan to be master of this book without a shield against him.”

“I will not be there,” the knight replied, looking down and away from her. “It is not what I had hoped, but events have turned against me and you must work alone. I have come from the palace, explaining to the angry ministers what happened in Borelli's house. Tonight the necromancer attends a meeting in the vizier's mansion. There will be…” he paused, his face troubled.

Nadira made a small sigh at his hesitation. “Some debauchery…yes, I see the images in your mind. Turkish hospitality is famous. There is no reason to be delicate about such things when we are about to create so much mayhem.”

Corbett put a hand over his eyes as if that could block her intrusion. “Every man has a weakness…a weak moment…a…” Even with her encouragement, Corbett found it difficult to speak freely.

“Spit it out, man.” Nadira did not try to hide her exasperation. “We all risk our lives. This is not the time to be polite.”

“Yes. Yes.” Corbett glanced at William and Montrose to make certain he had their attention. He started slowly, “Tonight there will be a gathering of the ministers and envoys from the west. The necromancer will be there, for the ambassadors from the north countries have brought some new women with them. Two tall women with golden hair and eyes like the sea and skin white as milk. Two women who are just alike. Twins.” Corbett lowered his eyes and pulled at his beard. “He is excited, for he has been promised the twins as tribute for some favor and even now his loins cannot wait for the evening.” He swallowed, then lifted his eyes to bore them into hers. The rest of his words spilled out quickly. “When he is entwined with the Northern women in the soft furs and silks, in the moment he realizes his pleasure is the moment his mind will have no contact with the
Grimoire
. At that moment you must take the
Grimoire
and break his contact with it. Not before, not after. Otherwise he will know immediately that you have your hands on his book. If you do not time it correctly, he will strike at you through the book. As long as it is his, it will defend him against you. It will be short. Perhaps a count of ten.”