I told Ofelia, “First I would need a sword.”
“Whoa,” Ofelia said. When the wagon stopped, she climbed in back and threw aside a tarp. Several swords and daggers lay there, probably stolen from smashed caskets. “Take your pick, signor. Just help me reach the castle.”
“You said Filippo has horses, hounds and swords.”
“I saw you punch Ox,” she said. “He was the strongest man I knew. You manhandled him like a child. By your story, you chased off White Company killers. I will tell you a secret. I’ve a trick that will surprise Magi Filippo. Kill him and the others will scatter. That I know for certain.”
I nodded. “First tell me who the lady in the castle is.”
“She’s particular about that sort of-”
“No more excuses,” I said. “If you want my help, you must speak.”
Ofelia scratched her scalp. Under her hood, she had bristles for hair. “Have you heard, signor, of the Moon Lady?”
I shrugged.
“A priestess of the Moon lives at the castle,” Ofelia said.
“What does a priestess of the Moon want with so many corpses?”
“What do I care?” Ofelia asked. “She pays in silver. That’s enough for me.”
“My sword will cost you fifteen hundred florins.”
Ofelia began to protest.
“You tried to kill me,” I said. “And so far I’ve refrained from hanging you for it.”
She grew pale, nodded.
I climbed into the wagon-bed and picked up a sword. It had the stamp of Villani, one of the best smithies in Milan, which was the arms and armor capital of Italy. The sword wore specks of rust, probably from laying in damp ground too long. A rusty sword for a knight with rusty mail-maybe it was fitting. I felt enlivened with a blade in my hand. I was ready to deal vengeance and gain justice, be it from a priest, sorcerer or slumbering goddess.
Ofelia snapped the reins and the mules lurched into motion.
— 6-
We hit a stretch of open road and passed dark vineyards. There was a cottage down in the ravine, with light shining past the door jam. The mules pulled at a steady clop and their heads bobbed up and down. Soon we crested the hill. More appeared in the distance.
“There,” Ofelia said. She pointed at a castle on a crag. It was dark, and even from here, the castle radiated menace. It was too tall and spiky, like an evil castle in a minstrel’s tale.
“Don’t the guards carry lanterns?” I asked.
Ofelia’s laugh sounded like a witch’s cackle.
The road led down and looked to twist in the ravines. I spied lights of movement among trees. Our friends carried lanterns or torches.
“How many men will Filippo have?” I asked.
“We could only wish they were men,” Ofelia muttered.
Hounds howled before I could ask her what she meant. The howling was eerie, discordant, as I’d said earlier. A premonition touched me and I realized the improbability of Ofelia’s tale. I put my hand on her shoulder. She cowered, and I felt her flesh tremble.
“Is this a trap?”
She shook her head.
“By the howls Filippo must have half-a-dozen hounds and likely a dozen riders,” I said. “I can kill two or three of his men-at-arms. The rest will swarm me and capture you. You must realize that. I don’t think you’d willingly ride into capture. That leaves only one other option.”
“All you have to do is kill Filippo,” she said. “Surely you know that.”
“Slay him while his men guard him?” I laughed.
“Knock them out of the way. You’re strong.”
“My dear woman, horses are too big to knock out of the way.”
“I hired you-your sword, I mean. I did it honestly, signor. I want to reach the castle. Why would I jeopardize my wagon and cargo just so Filippo could kill you? You’re nothing to me.”
I scowled.
“How was I supposed to know you’d wake up?” she asked. “The way you lay beside the road earlier, Ox and I thought you were dead. Filippo was out there before that. There would be no means for Filippo and me to plan a trap, if that’s what you fear.”
Her reasoning made sense, and her blatant greed and self-interest were too honest to fake. I released her.
She rubbed her shoulder, glanced at me. “The priestess gave me a powder, signor. It makes a flash that blinds people in the dark, at least for a few moments. You can attack then.”
“Right,” I said. “Move in among horsemen.”
“Are you jesting?” she said. “I’d flee, but you’re quicker than a stoat and would catch me. You can kill them.”
“Run and leave your precious cargo?” I asked.
“You evaded Ox’s club,” she said, “twice. You caught me on the road when I tried to run. You must know your own quickness, signor. Combined with your great strength-and with my powder-Filippo’s as good as dead.”
I recalled the White Company mercenaries. Had I dodged the first crossbow bolt? I’d moved among them as if they’d stood spellbound, and I’d snatched the knife out of the second crossbowman’s hand. I pressed a hand against my chest and poked a finger where the crossbow bolt had torn into chainmail. The flesh underneath was whole and the ribs intact. Yet the bolt had pierced my body and I’d leaked a black fluid.
My scowl deepened. I could see in the dark. I moved as fast as a stoat. I hit like a bull, and now I could heal like a lizard, one that re-grows its tail.
“I have a plan, signor,” Ofelia said as she graced me with a rat-like grin. “My papa taught me to always have a plan.” The wagon creaked along a ravine thick with brush. “Magi Filippo has seen you. I’m sure you frightened him. He might be too cautious to step into our trap if he spies you here.”
“You want me to lay in the wagon with the dead?” I asked.
“No. I think you should drape Ox’s cloak over your armor. Hunch as Ox always did. Keep silent when they ride up, for Ox seldom spoke. When I kick you, close your eyes. I’ll toss the powder. Trust me, signor. You’ll know the flash went off. That is when you draw your sword.”
It was simple, and it played on Filippo’s likely expectations. But could I trust this grave robber? Could I trust my strength and speed to slay Filippo? How did I know the others would scatter at his death? What if they wore plate, wore all the armor a knight should?
A horn blared. It was loud, arrogant and close.
I hurried into the wagon-bed and tore away Ox’s hooded cloak. Soon I sat on the buckboard with my flimsy disguise. I was barely in time.
They came out of a clump of trees, the hounds first. They were vile creatures. I hadn’t expected it. How could I? The hounds were elongated men who ran on their hands and feet. They were naked and their backs were high off the ground. Their eyes bulged and some had fangs instead of teeth. One of them bayed. The others panted and loped toward us.
“What are they?” I whispered in horror.
“Damned creatures,” Ofelia whispered, “who ran afoul of the Lord of Night.”
“Who?” I whispered.
She shot me an incredulous glance.
Horsemen thundered into view. The riders were big, wore flapping cloaks and hoods. Fortunately, none clinked with mail or clanked with plate. Even with my demonic vision, it was hard to see their faces. Several of the riders seemed to have snouts like beasts. I felt then as if I’d ridden into the first canto of Dante’s Inferno. I believe I was as terrified and horrified as when Dante first called out to eerie-voiced Virgil.
I barely remembered in time Ofelia’s plan. I hunched on the buckboard, kept my head down. The rusty, Villani-forged sword lay at my feet.
“Halt!” a man shouted. I thought I recognized his voice.
Ofelia drew rein. We creaked to a stop, swayed. Horses neared. Torches hissed and threw flickering light.
I peered out of my hood. Magi Filippo, the supposed eel-fisher’s apprentice, rode in the lead on an elegant Arabian horse. He held a torch and had a feline smile that oddly matched his forked beard. His pendant thumped against a leather jerkin. He must have been proud of the pendant or maybe it was the symbol of his authority. Behind him followed big riders. One of them gazed at me. Torchlight reflected out of his eyes as if he was a wolf. I shuddered, and wondered what had occurred to turn men into creatures and creatures into men.