Arcanum Part 23

Allegretti cleared his throat noisily. "Master Buber. Heat escapes through an open door."

Buber took a deep breath. "My lord prince, I've received a letter from Juvavum."

The earls, Felix, Allegretti, all suddenly sat up. The farmer and his wife, who had been solicitously serving the prince and his entourage, looked uncomfortable, then relieved as Allegretti waved them away. They retreated to the kitchen and closed the door, quietly but firmly.

"A letter?" asked Felix. "What does it say?"

Allegretti stood between Buber and the fire. "More pertinent is why your huntmaster is receiving letters at all. Give it to me."

Used to obeying, Buber almost relinquished it without a word of complaint. Then, before Allegretti could s.n.a.t.c.h it from him, he put it behind his back. "It is addressed to me, Master Allegretti, and I'll give it to my lord."

For a big man, he could sidestep quickly. He knelt on one knee before Felix, who was perched on a milking stool in front of the hearth, nursing his shoulder. He held out the letter. His courtly language was lacking, not that Gerhard ever seemed to mind, but he tried his best.

"I think I may have done your father wrong, my lord. I have already shown you my desire to serve you, so whatever you decide, I will do it gladly." Buber bowed his head and felt the parchment rasp against his fingertips as it was extracted by a curious twelve-year-old.

One of the earls started to speak, but before he had even got the first syllable out, Felix held up his hand and said simply, "Silence."

He shook the parchment out, and flattened it over his knee. He started to read. "Who is this Thaler?"

"Under-librarian, my lord."

"That's what it says here. What is he to you?"

"My friend of twenty years, my lord."

"Ah." Felix's eyes scanned the first paragraph with a frown. "Juvavum is in darkness. Everything has stopped working. The barges, too."

The earls muttered to themselves, and Felix's frown deepened. It looked strange on his face.

"Your discoveries, huntmaster?" he asked. "What did you discover?"

Buber swallowed hard. "I found a unicorn's horn, in the forest over near Mondsee. The ... it was just lying there, it hadn't been cut or torn. No sign of the unicorn's body, or blood, or a fight, or anything. I told the Order, because by tradition and right it's theirs. They came and took it away, and told me not to say anything to anyone. Not even your father."

He looked up from his kneeling position to see Felix staring at him over the top of the page.

"And did you?" asked Felix.

"I didn't tell anyone." Buber lowered his gaze. "Not that time."

"Not that time?"

"It happened again. Or I found another one that happened at the same time, I don't know. I didn't even tell the Order this time. I thought that they'd kill me to keep me quiet."

"Why would they do that?"

"Unicorns are near-immortal, my lord: they don't just curl up and die, and when they're killed, they don't just disappear. They are the most magical of all creatures, so I'm told, more than dragons even, and if the hexmasters were scared of whatever was taking the unicorns, I was terrified. They bought my silence, my lord, with gold and fear. When I found the second horn, I knew the Order would make me disappear, too. So I went to Frederik Thaler, and asked him to look through all those books he has to see if anything like this has happened before. I told no one else, and neither did he."

"When was this?"

Buber counted up the days in his head. "Three? No, four days since I talked to Mr Thaler."

"Your Mr Thaler says the magic was already going long before now, and the Order knew." Felix put the letter down in his lap, and looked at the adults in the room, checking their reaction, before turning awkwardly back to Buber. "When did you find the first horn, huntmaster?"

"Last full moon, my lord. A whole month ago." Buber's legs were aching, locked in one position that he couldn't move from. At least he'd told the prince everything now. He felt lighter, though he knew a confession wouldn't save him.

"Where," said Felix, searching the shadows of the room, "is Mistress Agana?"

Allegretti looked at the ceiling. "Upstairs, my lord. She said her spellcasting had drained her completely, and she needed to rest."

The prince tutted and kicked his heels against the floor. "We can talk to her in the morning, I suppose."

"You are the Prince of Carinthia, my lord. You can talk to her now, if you wish." Allegretti made to stand.

"I do wish, signore. I wish it very much."

"Then it shall be done." But Allegretti didn't go himself. He waved at Earl Schenk to wake the witch.

Buber was still down on one knee, and Felix finally seemed to notice. "Get up, huntmaster."

"My lord." It came out more as a groan. He was stiff, and tired, and after everything he'd done that day, he just wanted it to be over.

"You should have told my father about this."

"Yes, my lord. I realise my mistake." Buber stared straight ahead: no one met his eye.

"This really mattered."

"I know, my lord." Here it comes. Will it be hanging, or pressing, or one of the old ways? The blood eagle, or the one where he'd have to walk around the irminsul, winding his guts on it as he went.

Nikoleta blundered into the room, breaking the tension. "My lord?" She scrubbed at her face with tattooed hands, then lowered them to adjust her hastily thrown-on robes.

"Did you know?" said Felix.

She blinked, and rubbed her fingers through her loosely curling hair. "Know what, my lord?"

"That the magic was fading away."

She was still stuck by the door to the stairs, so she pushed her way through to the fire before answering.

"Yes," she said. She looked for a chair, then at Buber, sweating with his back to the hearth. "Peter? What's going on?"

"I've just told the prince that I found two unicorns' horns in the forests. I told the Order about the first, a librarian about the second, but his father about neither."

"Unicorn horns are the property of the Order throughout Carinthia," she said, curious. "Does that mean you kept one?"

"Yes. The unicorns didn't die, though: they vanished. The hexmasters were frightened by that, and they frightened me enough to keep me quiet."

Felix scowled. "Shut up, everyone. I'm the one asking the questions. Mistress, did you know the magic was disappearing?"

"Yes," and then to forestall any further argument she carried on, "and so did your father. I told him as soon as I could, and I'd only just found out myself. I told him to turn around, get more men, use a different strategy, but he wouldn't have it. You can't blame Master Buber, because he's a hunter and what do hunters know about magic? Nothing."

"I am the Prince of Carinthia," said Felix, jumping up and echoing Allegretti's words. "I'll blame who I like." The letter spilt onto the floor, abandoned for the moment.

"You could, my lord, but you would be wrong." She didn't shout it out, but spoke softly: admonishing a child, not defying a prince. "If you want to blame someone, blame me. If I hadn't answered your father's summons, he'd have been forced to turn back. I appeared and I gave him the confidence to carry on. My loyalty cost him his life and the life of every Carinthian who died today." Nikoleta clasped her fingers in front of her, a gesture designed to show she was not a threat, not now, not to the young prince or his earls. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't persuade your father to take a different course of action. If Peter Buber failed you, so did I." She moved slightly, to stand next to the huntmaster, shoulder to shoulder despite the height difference.

Felix didn't know what to do. His face was full of confusion, and he looked to Allegretti for support.

The Italian leant back in his chair. "Did the hexmasters know?"

"Of course they did. But I'm not a hexmaster. When I left Goat Mountain I was an adept, and the masters didn't tell us." She shrugged. "Go and ask them yourself: they're hardly in a position to turn you away. They can't do anything any more."

"And you are sure about that, signorina?" Allegretti pursed his lips and waited for an answer.

"Do you think she would be here," said Buber, "if they could?"

Nikoleta shushed him by laying her hand on his arm, and spoke first to the whole room: "They would have imprisoned me, or killed me. They would have done anything to prevent me from telling Prince Gerhard that the Order was powerless, and so was the palatinate. They needed the lie to continue: I wasn't prepared to let that happen." Then she crouched down in front of Felix, so that her face was close to his. His eyes were wide. "You have to understand that both me, and your father's huntmaster, did everything to expose the Order's secret before it was too late."

Allegretti reached forward and took up the letter again, scanning Thaler's precise handwriting. "It says here that the Order might be working on a solution. Is that true?"

"If the hexmasters were, then, once again, they never told me. I am not a hexmaster." Nikoleta narrowed her eyes at the Italian. "I repeat, why don't we go and find out rather than you asking me questions I cannot answer?"

It was Buber's turn to lay a hand of warning on her shoulder.

"I've confessed my part in this," he said. "She had nothing to do with that." Then he noticed the subtle shift of power. He was now answering to Allegretti, not the prince, who was speechless and swivel-headed, looking from one adult arguing to the next. "My lord, it's for you to judge."

Felix looked up at Buber, who towered over him as much as any giant would, and at Nikoleta, who slowly rose from her stoop. He backed onto his stool, held steady by the solicitous Allegretti, who leant over to whisper in the prince's ear.

"Can we all hear your advice, Master Allegretti?" Buber's words were sharper than he intended, but he suddenly saw the situation for what it was: the horror of the day had been enough for a lifetime, and honestly, he'd be glad to lie down and die just to make it end sooner but not so that someone who had pretended friendship would profit from it.

The silence in the room was as deep as anyone would find in the library. Even the fire was momentarily quiet, lazy orange flames flickering in a parody of the inferno from earlier.

Allegretti slowly turned his head. He had a different look on his face than when he'd suggested that Gerhard, seemingly bent on destroying himself, was a lost cause, and the only way to salvage anything was to do what he suggested. Protect the boy, he'd said.

Now Buber knew why.

"Master Buber, a prince may take advice from those he trusts, if he wishes, and no man has a right to interrupt."

"How about a woman, Master Allegretti? Do I have the right to talk?" There was an edge to Nikoleta's voice that she'd not used before. The earls seemed transfixed by the tableau, and especially with the position of her hands.

"Do not threaten the prince," said Allegretti, and that was all it took.

She hadn't. Of course she hadn't. But the earls Schenk and Ludl, von Traunstein and Hentschel, all reached for their swords. Which, in turn, made her raise her arms.

It now looked like they were defending themselves against her, and she was the powerful aggressor.

"Don't," said Buber. The fire was behind him, and he knew how much she loved playing with it.

"I didn't. I wasn't." She looked Allegretti square in the eye. "Nothos," she hissed.

"You are outlaws. Banished." Allegretti's two swords were abruptly in his fists. "Just say the word, my lord, and I will throw myself at the traitors."

Felix was lost, as surely as his father had been. Buber watched as a tight, bright light coalesced in Nikoleta's hand. He could carry on watching as she burnt the house down around them, or he could do something else.

"No more killing," he grunted. "Not today."

And he picked her up around the waist and carried her to the door to the parlour. He didn't stop, despite the door being closed, just charged it with his shoulder and kept on going, past the farmer and his wife, holding a witch in the moment of casting a spell, outside into the yard.

"Put me down," she said, struggling furiously. The light winked out, but he still didn't let go.

"Braun's horse is still saddled." He could see its wet coat shining in the dark, and hear it shake its mane as it waited.

Nikoleta's feet briefly touched the ground, and she dug her heels in against a crack in the slippery stone.

"We're going back," she said, but, as she wriggled free, he caught her wrist and held it tight enough to hurt.

"Who will you kill?" Buber demanded. "Allegretti?"

"Yes."

"Schenk?"

"If I have to."

"Von Traunstein?"

Her eyes burnt with the fire she so badly wanted to create. "All of them."

"Felix won't listen to you if you surround him with the dead."

Her voice became plaintive. "I have to try."

He picked her up and threw her onto the saddle. "The f.u.c.k you do."

She tried to levitate off, but even sorcerers could be disorientated by the rush of grappling. Buber grabbed at the reins and got one foot in the stirrup before she righted herself astride the horse's back.

Fire blossomed in her hand again and she held it at him.

Buber's body froze, but not his tongue.

"Allegretti was right about one thing only: I need to protect you."

"How dare you," she said. "I can protect myself."

"But not," said Buber, "from yourself."

He half expected that she would set him on fire and blow him apart, then go back for the Italian. He'd gambled everything his life, the future of Carinthia that she wouldn't. He grabbed the pommel and pulled himself up behind her, feeling her body stiffen in shock as their bodies pressed hard against each other.

She'd have to hold on as best she could. He was no horseman, and it took all his skill to wheel the beast around and set it out into the night.