Dave Duncan - When the Saints

“You are a healthy young man, Wulfgang, are you not?”

Wulf nodded, then remembered that the old man might not see well. “Yes, Your Eminence.”

“And a strong one?”

“Yes.”

“And where did you get your health and strength?”

“From God?”

The cardinal nodded. “You have flaxen hair. I am told you have golden eyes. Where did you get that coloring?”

“The hair from my father, Your Eminence. I never knew my mother. I am told I had an uncle with yellow eyes.”

“All these are gifts from God, and yet black sheep bear black lambs, white sheep white lambs. Talent runs in your family, does it not?”

“So they say.” Wulf thought of Whitetail, the canine companion of his childhood, and the time he and Anton had thought it humorous to lift him over the gate into the compound where the hound bitches were confined when they came into heat. Whitetail had enjoyed his visit much more than his human accomplices had enjoyed their subsequent beatings, but ever since then the Dobkov hunting pack had sported a high proportion of white tails.

He realized that the silence was aging. “But what is talent, Your Eminence?”

“It is just a talent, my son. Some people sing well, others have quick wits. Some have good looks, some are ugly. Gifts from God. Sometimes He seems capricious, but He has His own purposes that we cannot know. Your talent is an ability to make your wishes come true, that is all. Whatever you want, within limits, comes to pass. Like strength or beauty or any other talent at all, it is a gift from God that should be used to His glory and purpose. Yes, you can do the devil’s work if you wish, just as you can kill men with crossbows or seduce girls with good looks and a glib tongue, but you can also use all your attributes to serve Christ.”

Wulf wondered if he dared ask for a written or a writestimonial to that effect but decided it would be a waste of time. The Church’s official position could be denied only in private. Your wishes come true! It described his powers exactly, the powers he had now given to Madlenka for safekeeping. D’Estouteville must know about that, though, for Wulf could not have been confined in a servants’ bedroom otherwise. And obviously the conversation was reaching the point where he would be “invited” to put his abilities at the disposal of the Church.

“Your hospitality and shelter are very welcome, Eminence, but you must have summoned me for some purpose. How may I demonstrate my gratitude for your hospitality?”

“You have not met Cardinal Zdenek, I understand?”

“I have not had that honor.”

A flick of the cardinal’s eyebrows implied that Wulf had suffered no great loss. “But you are aware that your noble king will shortly go to meet his Creator, as we all must in time. He will be succeeded by his grandson, whose heir presumptive will be his sister, Princess Laima. To put the matter in a nutshell, Zdenek has been peddling her around the courts of Christendom. He has been offering a dowry comprising estates that he values at three hundred thousand florins, plus a further two hundred thousand florins’ worth of gold and jewels.”

Wulfgang pursed his lips. All Dobkov would not be that much.

The age-dulled eyes studied him for a long moment. “The unwritten part of the offer is that the dowry goes back to the cardinal.”

Deep breath. “All of it?” When money changed hands, some of it always stuck to fingers, but not usually that much.

“All of it, so it is probably worth much more than he admits. We offered the gems and the gold, while retaining the estates, and our offer was rejected out of hand.”

“‘We,’ Your Eminence?”

“Agents negotiating on behalf of my nephew, Louis of Rouen. Louis is a fine young man, a year or two older than you, cultured, personable, and related to the king of France. He is well qualified to be consort to a princess, and will even consent to live in Jorgary.”

“I do not doubt his merits, my lord, but how…” Wulf was currently feeling very stupid, but not stupid enough not to guess where this was going.

“But how does it concern you? When your brother the baron warned the cardinal that you would need support in your dealings with the Wends, Zdenek appealed to the woman known as Umbral, who runs an international coven of witches. No offense intended. She saw the chance to gain my favor and set the Louis-Laima match as her price. Zdenek absolutely refused. He claimed the marriage contract was already signed, but that was a lie. He is still dealing with at least three rival parties. That was our third refusr third al, in effect.”

So now Wulf’s life, freedom, and service were going to be offered in a fourth attempt?

“Last night,” d’Estouteville said with a faint smile, “while you were sound asleep upstairs, your cadger, Countess Madlenka, went to call on Cardinal Zdenek.”

“She did?” Wulf damned himself to the pit for ever having involved Madlenka in this.

“She did. I am told she acquitted herself amazingly well.”

Half the Speakers in Christendom were watching every move in this game, no doubt. Listening even now and laughing at him.

“She is a determined lady,” Wulf murmured. He remembered the first time they met and how she had climbed up on his bed to help him sit up, gripping his bare arm. For an unmarried noblewoman, that had been a stunning breach of decorum. Madlenka refused to be bound by convention and let nothing faze her; that was why he loved her. He forced the memory away to concentrate on what d’Estouteville was saying.

“… offered you as a hireling for at least one year. Zdenek rejected the offer without hesitation. But he did make one interesting concession.” The ensuing pause was carefully calculated as only a preacher would know how. “He said he would be willing to take you as his falcon, but he would negotiate only with you personally. What do you suppose the Spider had in mind there, mm?”

D’Estouteville was an old hand at these snaky games and Wulf an absolute tyro. He wet his lips with the wine to gain a moment’s thought.

“Why he wants me as his falcon, not his hireling?”

“Yes, why should that make a difference?”

Trickier…

“I am a beginner at this, Your Eminence, but I would guess that His Eminence may foresee a need to have a Speaker perform some unsavory tasks for him. He does not wish a third person to be able to intervene and override his orders.”

The old man nodded. “That is my conclusion. You, I believe, are an honorable young man, who would not be easily led into serious crimes.”

Wulf could counter that with some of his own agenda. “I have a great need to confess major sins at the moment, Your Eminence.” No mere parish priest would have authority to absolve Satanism and mass murder, but a cardinal could.

“I would hear your confession, my son, but at present we have other matters to discuss.”

Absolution but not yet. And when the Inquisition arrested him in Joted him rgary? Would it accept his word that his sins had been forgiven? It might take long enough to refer the question back to Rome and for d’Estouteville to respond; the old man might die in the meantime or insist that all confessions were secret.

As if guessing Wulf’s doubts, the cardinal said, “Francesco della Rovere and I have been friends for a great many years.”

Who? Oh, yes, the pope, Sixtus IV.

“Yes, Your Eminence?”

“Were I to ask His Holiness to issue a decretal absolving you of any blame in the death of the late Brother Azuolas of the Dominican Order and stating that you are under no suspicion of dabbling in Satanism, I am confident that he would sign it, as a personal favor to me. And of course we should be well disposed toward helping with any lesser problems you might wish to discuss.”