How? He had been forbidden to break the first commandment. He tried to Look in on Madlenka and couldn’t find her. That was forbidden too, so his jessing worked as it was supposed to. No public miracles! He interrupted Justina’s reminiscences.
“You Looked in on my talk with His Eminence.” Not a question.
“Some of it.”
“Did you hear the eminent gentleman tell me that talent is just a God-given ability to have your wishes come true?”
“I did. I tend to agree, but I was surprised to hear him say so, because it’s not the Church’s official story. But it is as reasonable a guess as anyone’s ever come up with.”
“What is the Church’s official explanation, if not that Speakers’ powers come from the devil?”
“That’s the public one. For the churchmen who are Speakers, it is that they are especially holy men, and the Lord answers their prayers.”
“And which theory do you believe?”
Justina smiled and nodded. “Most of the time I agree with the cardinal. I have trouble believing that the Lord approves of some of the work being done in his name.”
Wulf reached for the cheese again. “A little while ago I tried to come here and the gate opened into the vineyard instead. You had someone with you. The same sort of thing has happened before. How does that work?”
“It works because you don’t want to break the first commandment by appearing in front of workadays. That’s part of your wish, even if you haven’t realized it. YourAized it. lungs breathe all night, even if you’re not telling them to. You release a bowstring without deliberately warning it not to cut your left thumb off, don’t you? Are these things done by your guardian angel? Or is it just you? If I faked a punch at your eye, your eye would close before you told it to.”
“Don’t. My fist might bounce you off the wall before I told it not to. But why Voices?”
“You were a haggard, all alone. You didn’t dare talk with anyone about it, so you imagined holy friends who could advise you. Lonely small children invent imaginary friends. Lonely Speakers invent angelic Voices. A handler would have smoothed the path for you.”
That made little sense, although Wulf recalled Father saying that expectation had strange effects on people. Warriors who went into battle expecting to live through it-as they had done the last time or several times before-had a much better chance of surviving than beginners who lacked that confidence. Wulf couldn’t take the time to think about it now. He might have months of leisure in a dungeon ahead of him.
“Can you give me a piece of paper, please?” he said. “And a pen?”
Without a word she went to the shelves and fetched the paper and pen, plus an inkwell and a dish of sand. Wulf folded a small strip at the bottom of the paper and sliced it off with the Magnus dagger. He pinned it flat between the thumb and middle finger of his left hand. “Now close your eyes in case someone’s Looking.”
Then, with his own eyes shut so that even he couldn’t see what he was writing, he scribbled seven words. Hoping they were legible, he kept the paper covered with his hand until the ink dried, then quickly folded it and tucked into his pouch, all without glimpsing what was on it. “You can open your eyes now.”
She was watching with an amused expression. “Where’d you learn that trick?”
“Just thought it up.” He washed down his last bite with a draft of wine and stood up. “Thanks for the food and the information. I must fly, as we witches say.”
Justina smiled sadly. “Glad I can be of help. If you need more, let me know.”
“Thanks… Auntie.” Wulf walked around the table to give her a kiss. “I’m going to visit the former Hedwig Schlutz, as soon as I can get her alone. Would you please keep an eye on her after I leave? I’d like to know if she reports to somebody.”
Justina pulled a face. “You can do that for yourself.”
“Oh, no! I’m much too innocent.”
He opened a gate into Darina’s bedroom.
His timing was unfortunate, or fortunate, depending on viewpoint, and he had a very good viewpoint. Darina, nee Schlutz, had just thrown back the cover and sat up, preparatory to getting out of bed. She looked at him with no sign of embarrassment.
“How dare you enter my room like that? Take off those clothes at once.”
Wulf had been intending to take a very stern line with her, but the unexpected humor threw him off. He very nearly laughed aloud, but he was aware that he was blushing scarlet and she was not. She had the halo of a saint and the body of a succubus.
“I did not come for pleasure, my lady. Strictly business.”
“I’ll accept money if it makes you feel better.” She swung her legs down and continued to sit on the edge of the bed in full view. “I might even offer it. How much?”
“You need my brother Anton for that, not me.” He turned away, pretending to admire the room.
“I like the rags. Italian? But I still think you’d look better without them. “
“Not today, thank you.”
“Then what else can I do for you, Sir Wulfgang? There isn’t a perversion I haven’t watched at the prince’s parties.”
“It’s him we must talk about.” Wulf forced himself to face her again, trying not to stare at the scarlet nipples or the dark wisps at groin and armpits that contradicted her blond tresses. “What’s your real reason for wanting to leave court as soon as the old king dies and your contract lapses? I frankly don’t believe your story of wanting to marry and have children.”
She put her head back and laughed, making her breasts bounce. “I’m not the type, am I?” Then she scowled. “You really want the truth?”
“I always want the truth.”
“You’ll grow out of that pretty fast, sonny. The real reason? Because this place is a cesspool-everybody trying to seem what they’re not, everybody waiting for the king to die, everybody sponging off the prince, the prince himself pretending to be a perverted hedonist when he’s just a juvenile drunkard, terrified of sex with men or women. I’m no saint… well, my cadger and I belong to the Saints, but the Church won’t beatify me anytime soon. I enjoy men. I don’t like what goes on at the prince’s parties. They sicken even me. The whole place sickens me. Satisfied now?”
“Thank you. Last night you listed your duties for me, but you did not mention blocking assassination attempts.”
Surely nobody else could shrug so seductively. “I don’t have to. Even supposing anyone wanted to kill the dolt, who would try it here in the palace? He’s always with a group of other boys, and usually some of them are armed. He eats out of the same pots, drinks from the same bottles. Even if someone tried, I would hear of it and reverse it, unless it was a very fast death.”
“He isn’t in the palace now, he’s out hunting, and that’s exactly where most assassinations are tried. There are weapons, and lots of cover. Why don’t you go with him on the hunts?”
She shuddered, another very widespread movement. “Don’t be stupid. Any riding I do is done right here, in bed. Fending off assassination attempts is not included in my list of duties.”
“Has that always been the case, or has the list recently been changed?”
She fluttered eyelashes at him again. “Whatever do you mean?”
He could not threaten her; she was a Speaker and would simply disappear. “When you came to collect me last night, who put you up to it? It wasn’t Crown Prince Konrad who sent you, as you said. Who was it?”
Darina slid off the bed and walked straight at him. He stepped aside hastily and she continued on to a closet to find a wrap. Golden hair flowed down her back to her hips.
She said over her shoulder, “Two nights after your brother slaughtered the hunt at Chestnut Hill, he was pointed out to me at a ball. Next day I heard Cabbage Head screaming that the Magnus madman had been made a count, so I Looked in on him. He was obviously already in Castle Gallant, ten days’ ride away. He has no nimbus. It didn’t take me long to find you.” She headed for the fireplace.