The Unknown chuckled politely, as one does at the jokes of the great. "Your Magnificence is most gracious."
"And you are extraordinarily devious! I thought only Italians were capable of such chicanery. But I find it hard to believe that Nevil will willingly walk into your trap." Toby did not. It was a wonderful plan. He wished he had thought of it. "The Fiend, messer Longdirk, is not stupid, and he knows now that you are not."
"He knows, also, Your Magnificence, that I am only a penniless soldier of fortune. I would cheerfully disappear altogether, but that would be suspicious in itself. It seems to me that we should announce the generous terms for a condotta that you have granted me here this morning, and attempt to hammer together a union of the states, because that is what he will expect us to do. Then everything must appear to fall apart like a puffball — which is what we fear it will do. You will make it known that I am in disgrace, that you are overruling me. Block my efforts. Insult me in public. Nevil has spies everywhere. He will hear of all this and discount me."
"It will make you look like a fool!"
The Unknown laughed. "My feelings do not matter! I am not a prickly aristocrat like Don Ramon. I am not even, with respect, a burgher who must watch what his creditors think of his solvency. I have no family or close friends to suffer from my disgrace. The men of the Company know I can fight, and that is all they care about. I am a bastard peasant, the lowest of the low. Shame me all you will. In a worthy cause I can endure a few slights."
Easy for him to say, whoever he was! It was Toby himself who had suffered those months of humiliation and frustration, and apparently all that time Marradi had believed that he wanted such treatment?
The fox scratched the side of his muzzle. "You impress me with this offer, messer Tobias. I know of no other condottiere in all Italy who would submit to such an arrangement, and Nevil will never suspect that you are submitting to it voluntarily. I will not give you my unconditional acceptance now, but let us proceed with the condotta, for we must do that in any case. I shall write to my so-eminent brother on your behalf, while you go ahead and arrange that unfortunate accident to Maestro Fischart. If you can make that appear convincing, and if the College will arm you with the gramarye you need, then I may even agree to tie a noose around my city's neck as you request. Secrecy, above all, will be essential. Who else knows of this plot of yours?"
"Only Oreste and yourself, messer. The Khan knows I want to set a trap, but none of the details. His Eminence the cardinal will have to be told, and eventually the senior military leaders, men like Ercole Abonio and the various captains-general. Less than a dozen, I hope."
Unexpectedly, the fox chuckled. He rubbed his human hands and ran a long red tongue over his chops. "This is a wicked game you plan, comandante! I confess I enjoy such sport, and I am delighted to have misjudged you — as I hope the Fiend will misjudge you — for I confess I suspected your success at Trent was merely a fluke. Forgive me if I ask this, though. I have years of practice at such intrigue, but you strike me as a man more inclined to use his fists than his tongue. I shall keep your secret, I promise you, but are you sure that you can?"
"You mean, can I tell lies with a straight face?"
"I am afraid that skill will be an essential ingredient." The fox showed sharp teeth in a smile.
"No, I cannot. But I told you I have ways of traveling to Rome, messer. I can also invoke gramarye to prevent myself from giving the game away. I can even prevent myself from thinking about it or remembering it when I do not need to."
"This is dangerous, surely?"
"Life is dangerous, messer. The worst I risk is that I will completely forget the strategy someday when I need to remember it. If you ever think that has happened, Your Magnificence, then you will have to take me aside and remind—"
Toby screamed.
Out! Out! Sorghie, get me out of this!
CHAPTER FIVE
He reeled to his feet and stared out at a world made glorious by morning — the broad valley of the Arno brilliant green under the ethereal light of Tuscany, the lumpy hills in their rich garb of olive trees and mulberries, misty peaks beyond rolling off to infinity. He scowled at the disfiguring camps of the enemy ringing the city just out of cannon shot. Already the eastern sky was almost too bright to look upon, heralding the sun. The Allied armies were waiting under their masking gramarye. He had told everyone he would give them the signal before sunup — Ercole, Alfredo, all of them! If he did not appear in time, they would assume that something had gone awry and start withdrawing. Then all chance of a victory would be lost, the great surprise attack would become a panic retreat, disaster.
"You have remembered!" the tutelary said, and there was a sound very much like joy in the normally dead voice.
"Little One, it worked?" Sorghaghtani cried.
"It worked!" He bent to take up his helmet and put it on his head, then he lifted her into the air as he straightened. He kissed her and set her down. "Thank you! Holiness, thank you, also. Excuse me. I must be about my business."
He vaulted over the railing into the sky.
By rights he should have bounced three or four times down the steepening curve of the redbrick dome and ended as a disgusting mess on the roof of the nave. He didn't. At about the time he ought to have made his third impact, his boots hit the flagstones of the piazza a couple of spans away from Smeòrach, who jerked his head up and rolled his eyes, but who was well used by now to his owner's peculiar abilities. Several early-bird passersby jumped and peered in alarm, unwilling to believe what they had seen. The genuine early birds, the sparrows and pigeons, were less gullible and exploded upward in a wild flapping.
The boy had removed the saddle and laid it on the ground so he could sleep on it, with the reins tied around his wrist. Smeòrach's hard tug wakened him; he sat up, bleary-eyed. "Oh, messer, I am sorry…"
"You did well!" Toby said, untying the knot. "I don't have time for the saddle. Keep it. It's yours. And this." He dropped a gold coin, which rang on the stone. It was one of the last of the bagful he had stolen from the Company coffers to use as expense money on his secret journeys.
He vaulted on to Smeòrach's back, and Chabi settled on his arm in another whirring of wings. He tried to shake her off. "You think I'm going hawking? Be off! This is not safe for you!"
"Who is safe today?" she asked in Sorghaghtani's voice.
He had no time to argue with an owl. Hoping he could leave her behind, he kicked in his heels and sent Smeòrach bounding forward. The spectators saw the big spotted gelding take off across the piazza like an arrow, but after a very few strides horse, rider, and owl became smoky, transparent, then vanished altogether. The hoofbeats, some later asserted, could be heard for a few moments after that. Most of the good folk fled screaming into the sanctuary and were comforted by the spirit.
From Toby's viewpoint, and possibly Smeòrach's, they plunged into a faintly luminescent fog devoid of landmarks or scenery. Iron shoes rang on an endless shiny plain like a dark lake, and their reflection raced along below them.