Count Von Stemitz coughed in the tense silence. “May I remind you further, Ritters, that standing in the presence of the Emperor’s nephew and Privy Emissary Plenipotentiary with drawn weapons is—ah—dangerously close to treason.”
Weapons were sheathed, hastily. With the naked blades absent, the tension began to ease.
Manfred, meanwhile, had been sorting through the bundle of parchments as if he had not a care in the world beyond scrupulous attention to the Emperor’s correspondence.
“Here, Erik.” He handed one to the Icelander, who still held the kneeling Von Stublau. “Show him that.”
Erik held the parchment in front of the knight-proctor’s eyes.
“See that seal, Von Stublau?” said Erik, coldly. “Your life, your lands, and your family’s lands are forfeit. You and they are landless peasants. You are shortly going to be a dead landless peasant.”
The big Prussian’s eyes widened. He had been afraid of the axe. This—to the Prussian—was worse. “I . . . I didn’t know . . .”
“You knew,” said Manfred scathingly. He looked down on Von Stublau. “You and Von Welf both knew. Now, you must pay the price of treason. Your lands are confiscate to the crown. I will, however, temper justice with mercy. I will not act against your family’s holdings—if I am told the full details of your plot. Should it emerge, later, even twenty years hence, that you didn’t tell us all you knew . . . then your kin can join the Polish peasants on your lands.”
“The peasantry will kill them,” whimpered Von Stublau. “They’ll tear them apart.”
“Maybe you should advise them to start some reforms immediately,” said Von Stemitz dryly.
Erik gestured at the door. “Time for this later, Manfred. There are a lot of knights out there, and Sachs too.”
Manfred nodded. “True. De Grinchy. Lutz. Take charge of this one. Bring him with us.”
They marched out, with Manfred at the head of the column of knights. Erik, watching his back, reflected that power was a strange thing. Sachs, and the knight-proctors involved, would have chosen their adherents for this squad. Yet when Francesca had shifted their balance, the reins had ended up firmly in Manfred’s hands. Even the two zealots—
Erik’s lips twisted in a smile that was as bitter as it was wry. The worst of Sachs’s camp followers would be the quickest to strike off any head from anyone who dared to dissent. And yet, really, in actual fact, they were still completely at the mercy of their former foes.
“How did you know to come now?” he whispered to Francesca. “And where did you get the jewelry?”
“I wouldn’t like this jewelry examined in broad daylight or by a skilled jeweler,” said Francesca quietly. “I’ve taken my task seriously, Erik. I’ve had my watchers keeping an eye on Manfred too, you know. He’s a very valuable client, to say the least.”
Erik’s eyes narrowed. “Besides, you know Von Stemitz.”
Francesca dimpled at him. “Indeed. You are too observant, Erik. Hendrik has been a regular, ah, friend. But I really don’t think Manfred needs to know that petty detail.”
Mutely, Erik shook his head.
Francesca’s dimples were now quite dazzling. “Ah, what would you do without me?”
Mutely, Erik shook his head.
Chapter 86
Benito was a little edgy. For starters, the old man couldn’t move very fast. For a second thing, the town felt like a powder keg. There was a tension in the air you could almost taste. He and Lord Montescue had gotten to the gondola landing to find several anxious-looking people with brass-bound staves waiting to take their vessel. There’d been someone running back across there. . . .
Then they’d entered the narrow winding calle which led to Marco’s digs—and found a cluster of people in front of them, in the middle of what was obviously a tense confrontation.
And then he heard Maria shout: “I’ll shoot at least one of you others!”
He left Lodovico and ran forward.
“Benito!” Maria nearly dropped the pistol. “You idiot! I almost shot you.”
Lopez stared at Benito. “You!” Then, incongruously, he burst into laughter. “It needed only this!”
Benito noticed that Kat was pushing the muzzle of her own pistol into the Spaniard’s belly. “Er. Kat. Why are you doing that?”