Part 23 (2/2)
”Perhaps they've given up?” suggested another.
”I doubt it,” said Jagu dryly. Though, the more he thought about the Inquisition's methods, the more he disliked what he had been ordered to do. Heretical as Rafael Lukan's ideas might be, execution seemed too harsh a punishment. A rumor was circulating in the citadel that the First Minister was appealing directly to King Enguerrand to intervene.
Eguiner's men had been up all night building a scaffold in the square outside the citadel. Jagu had placed armed Guerriers around the square, warning them to be ready to fire at the first sign of trouble.
Eleven was striking from the cathedral clock as he returned to the citadel. One hour to go to the execution, and the rebel students had still not made their move.
A woman screamed. Jagu seized his pistol and checked that it was primed.
”To your positions!” he ordered the Guerriers waiting inside. As he ran to guard the doorway, he heard the sound of musket shots. ”So soon?” he muttered. In the square, people were running about in confusion. The sky darkened and, glancing up, he saw daemon-blue eyes staring down at him from the smoky glitter of a great hook-winged shadow-dragon. His Guerriers fired at it but their musket b.a.l.l.s bounced off its armored scales like hailstones.
”The Drakhaon,” he muttered. ”I should have guessed...”
Two people were coming swiftly toward him; a fair-haired young man and a bespectacled youth clutching a doc.u.ment case. Jagu, sensing trouble, barred their way.
”Take us to Rafael Lukan,” said the man. ”I have a pa.s.s signed by the First Minister.”
”No one is allowed in to see the condemned man.”
”But I'm his son,” piped up the youth.
Could this be the truth? ”I have no record of any wife or son here. Wait here, please.” Jagu was forced to scan the record book.
”His illegitimate son,” added the youth.
There came a sudden uproar as hundreds of students poured into the square and rushed the Guerriers. And the Guerriers, caught reloading their muskets, were not ready for them.
”d.a.m.n!” Jagu cried and in that one moment's distraction, turned away. The blow caught him on the back of the head; there was a flash of blinding, skull-splitting pain-and then, nothing.
”Lieutenant. Lieutenant!” Lieutenant!”
Jagu opened his eyes to see a Guerrier bending over him. He felt sick. And when he tried to sit up, he felt a violent pounding in his head.
”The prisoner-”
”He got away.”
”d.a.m.n.” Jagu closed his eyes. Fragments of memory began to return. ”That youth. The old distraction trick. Keep the target occupied while your accomplice slips round the back and-bang! Why did I fall for it?” He groaned. ”How long have I been unconscious?”
”You've been out most of the day. The surgeon says-”
”Not so loud,” Jagu hissed, closing his eyes again. The sound of the man's voice had set lights dancing luridly before his eyes.
”Sorry, Lieutenant.” The Guerrier spoke more softly.
”The recital!” Jagu suddenly remembered. ”I have to go to the amba.s.sador's villa-”
”The surgeon says you're to rest until he's checked you again. You took quite a blow there.”
Jagu felt so queasy that he did not argue and lay back, letting the Guerrier apply a cold compress.
”'In the light of recent unfortunate events in the citadel,'” read Celestine, I feel it is inadvisable to proceed with your recital. I hope you will understand, Demoiselle. It is with regret that I have decided to postpone the concert until the situation has stabilized.Yakov Ga.r.s.evani, Amba.s.sador ”Unfortunate events?” she said aloud, unable to conceal her annoyance. ”Why didn't the Inquisition take Rafael Lukan to stand trial in Francia? Then they could have lured the Drakhaon there and entrapped him, using the information I charmed from his mother, far from his home. But no, the Inquisition knows best, and all my hard work is for nothing!”
Nanette appeared. ”There are two Guerriers here to see you, Demoiselle,” she said as two men appeared in the doorway behind her.
”We have urgent instructions from Maistre de Lanvaux,” said the taller of the two.
”From the Maistre?” she asked, stalling for time; neither man's face was familiar.
”You are to return to Lutece with us straightaway.” Both wore the discreet emerald insignia on their black uniform jackets that marked them as belonging to the inquisitorial division. Visant's men.
”But I need time to pack-”
”We have orders to take charge of all your luggage.”
”Let me at least send word to Lieutenant de Rustephan.”
”We must leave straightaway,” repeated the first officer. There was an inflexible tone to his voice that warned her that she had been found out. But who had betrayed her?
”It was an old book...” Nanette's voice drifted out from her bedchamber as they led Celestine across the hall, ”... and then the portraitist said she felt unwell...”
They were going through her possessions. If she called on the Faie to help her, she would only give her secret away. She would have to bide her time.
As they escorted her into their carriage, she saw other Guerriers entering the villa. She had concealed the grimoire inside a collection of chansons, chansons, but the Inquisitors were trained to ferret out all manner of hidden secrets. but the Inquisitors were trained to ferret out all manner of hidden secrets.
It was stickily hot inside the carriage. Why were they waiting? And then she had a sudden horrible suspicion. Had Jagu reported her to their Commanderie superiors? He had warned her not to use the grimoire and she had ignored him. For where was he now? Had he betrayed her? Was his loyalty to the cause stronger than his feelings for her, after all?
I've risked my life many times for the Commanderie. Surely that will stand me in good stead if it comes to a trial?
A Guerrier came running over. He handed over a package to the officers.
”Demoiselle de Joyeuse,” said one, ”can you explain why this was found in the villa?”
The other held up her father's grimoire.
”I have no idea,” she said.
CHAPTER 20.
As the Aquilon Aquilon sailed out of Colchise harbor, Andrei Orlov found himself pacing the upper deck with his mind on matters other than navigating the strong currents in the bay. The sun was setting and the western sky bled crimson light into the sea, hazed by ragged tatters of gauzy cloud. sailed out of Colchise harbor, Andrei Orlov found himself pacing the upper deck with his mind on matters other than navigating the strong currents in the bay. The sun was setting and the western sky bled crimson light into the sea, hazed by ragged tatters of gauzy cloud.
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