“Truth rises with the phoenix!” cried a woman from the back, and other voices echoed her.
“Do not fear the days to come,” said the biscop as folk around her knelt. “Her glory has come down to us out of the heavens and casts its brilliance over the Earth. If we will only believe, then we will be safe. God will answer us in our time of trouble, grant our every desire, fulfill our every plan. She sends us help from her sanctuary.” She raised Baldwin to his feet as he smiled pliantly with that look of beautiful incomprehension that in Quedlinhame had so charmed his praeceptors. “A holy one walks among us.”
Behind Ivar, Hathumod burst into tears.
5
“YOUR Excellency! I pray you, forgive us for disturbing you. Come quickly, Your Excellency!”
The servant’s voice was shrill with a panic that roused Antonia out of a restful sleep. She grunted and slapped a hand over her eyes to shut out the flicker of lamplight as the clumsy servant leaned over her and the sting of oily smoke made her cough.
“Your Excellency!”
“I have woken.”
The fool woman remained poised there, as stupid as a cow. “Come quickly.”
In the adjoining room, little Berengaria began to wail as Mathilda’s shrieks filled the air. The servant groaned and fled, leaving Antonia to rise in her shift and grope her way through the dark room to the opened door that led from one chamber into the other. There was, mercifully, lamplight, and a trio of servants hastily shoving a heavy table out of the way.
Young Mathilda was spinning, arms straight out and rigid, hands in fists. “Get away, you beast! It has red eyes! Why can’t anyone else see them?” She sobbed gustily.
“Your Highness, if you will only sit down—”
“Shan’t! You’re trying to kill me! Just like Mama and Papa! They’re never coming! You did it! You did it!”
She swung wildly, battering her attendants. They skittered back to circle as nervously as a pack of dogs waiting to have a stone thrown at them.
One of the double doors leading out into the courtyard creaked open and Captain Falco slipped in. He was dressed, armed, and alert. He slept athwart the doors on the pavement outside, but despite his constant faithful presence and the quiet surroundings in Novomo where they had bided many weeks now, Mathilda still suffered from night terrors.
“I hate you! I hate you!” she shouted, but it was not clear whom she hated, or what she feared.
“Your Highness,” ventured Captain Falco.
“Go away! Go! Go!” She stamped her feet over and over, drumming them on the floor, and flailed with her arms as she screamed and screamed. It was as if she was possessed by a demon.
“Your Highness!” said Antonia sternly.
A nursemaid had caught up Berengaria, who could not cry for long before starting to cough, and bent her efforts to soothing the little one.
“Take her into my chamber,” said Antonia. “Get her away from her sister! You should have done it at once, when you saw the fit coming on.”
The nursemaid whimpered, and started for the other door, but Mathilda leaped forward and grabbed at her shift.
“No! You shan’t steal her away! She’s mine!”
Berengaria set up a wail that at once broke into racking coughs, and the child was wheezing and gasping for breath as Mathilda began to jump up and down shrieking with each leap, completely out of control.
“Captain Falco! You must restrain her!”
He hesitated. He hated to do it. He knew the princess fought him, and despised him, although he had never done one thing to harm her. Indeed, his softness had done the most damage, no doubt. A stern hand must control a hysterical child.
“Captain!”
She would not do it herself. Last time, Mathilda had bitten her.
He turned his head, caught by a new sound. Out in the courtyard, torchlight gleamed. She heard a cacophony of voices and the clatter of many feet advancing on them. Falco drew his sword and stepped into the doorway, calling for his men. Mathilda was still screaming. The hapless nursemaid scuttled to the safety of Antonia’s chamber.
There came a slap, like an arrow thumping into wood. Falco fell to his knees and cried out. The second door slammed open, and an apparition appeared—gaunt, filthy, and ragged but entirely alive.