The vision would not soon be forgotten, but Thaddeus knew that over time, his memories would change and reform what he witnessed. His recollection of the events surrounding the attack would become clouded. He needed to make what observations he could now, while fresh. Mental notes of the past hour or so would make it easier to later recall the event itself.

  Lying on his bed, he replayed the feeling that rousted him from his room. That, he knew, was real. He had no explanation for the feeling of dread.

  He concentrated on his walk down the center of the barn. At the stall, where Dani emerged, he paused his memory. He had been so focused on the back portion of the barn, he did not remember what was to either side of him. It was like he was blind to everything except the black he tried to see into.

  Then came the scream. Fingers flashed into view, tipped with claws rather than nails, like a human would have. Strangely, the event seemed to play slowly back, but Thaddeus still found himself frozen in place, unable to move. A flash of a face in the limited light. He was now certain it was female. Pale white, like it never felt the sun, more the color of a fish belly than a human. A facial expression of pure hatred, but there was something else…

  Upon occasion, Thaddeus had the opportunity to visit with some of the actors before and after a performance. He knew some wore masks, and some wore makeup. It was the latter that always caught his attention. With simple shades and highlights, men could be turned into women, young into old. The faces that attacked him could have worn an actor’s face, tinted to make them fiercer than a normal human.

  That would explain a great many things but not everything.

  There were two attackers. In reflection, Thaddeus plainly remembered the two faces charging him one after the other. Two young women or maybe girls, dressed up to resemble the devil’s own children. Dark tattered clothing to blend in with the night. That was a much more logical explanation than demons from hell choosing this tiny, out-of-the-way inn to torment.

  This explanation made little sense to him. Young women should be searching out a husband, at home taking care of a family, or perhaps in a convent learning to better serve God. He could think of no feasible reason for a young woman to dress up and dance with a devil in the pale moonlight. What motive could these two young women have?

  Trust… his mind leaped to the word and its importance. His mind worked like that. He might be working on one problem, and something would draw his attention to another subject. He would need to circle back to the first problem… eventually.

  For a moment, he thought his own sense betrayed him. If he can’t trust his own body, then he would truly be lost. His traveling companion: trust would be hard to give the scribe. He had no evidence the man could be trusted. They held so little in common, outside the law.

  Perhaps that was the key to his quandary.

  He could not in good conscience kill the man and bury him in a shallow grave deep in the woods unless he gave him some compelling reason. Thaddeus needed to discover some way to work with the scribe. If he focused on their common love of the law, they might be able to find some mutual meaning and save the man from Padua’s life.

  For his own sanity, he needed to learn to trust the scribe. The constant thoughts of torture and murder couldn’t be healthy for him.

  The latest and largest disagreement revolved around the overly fragrant lad that saved his life. The boy risked his life, threw himself into danger to save Thaddeus. Actions like that should be rewarded. If Geovanni had any metal in his spine, it might have been him the inquisitor considered rewarding. Instead, it was a young man who deserved recognition.

  The whole event might not be so simple. There was a slim chance the lad and girls worked in concert. Few performers worked alone. There was always safety in numbers. However, the question continued to be a motive. He could think of no reason for the blood.

  A realization struck him: Civil servants were often called upon to work in teams. The reason the scribe had been assigned to Thaddeus had little to do with either of them. There was a chance the Doge and the Council of Ten truly thought they might be sending him into danger, and a team of two would be better than a single inquisitor. If that was the case, the scribe might be innocent of any action against him. The hate the inquisitor held for the scribe might be misplaced.

  The thought did not sit well on Thaddeus’s mind. Since they left Venice, the rage he felt for the scribe had kept him going. Maybe in his sorrow over being forced from his city, he let his emotions override the logic he prided himself in showing. Admitting he might be wrong was incredibly difficult for the inquisitor. While working, he needed a devout belief in his righteousness. If he could be swayed by his emotions concerning the scribe, what other things has he gotten wrong? It was too soon to admit he might be wrong concerning the work the devil did in the world, but he was ready to at least entertain the idea.

  He found the need to at least try to be civil with Geovanni.

  The boy raised a different question. Thaddeus was unsure why he pulled the young man into his inner circle. He had never felt the need for a page or other servant. The only reason that came to mind concerning the young man was the sense of thanks Thaddeus felt for the risk he took in the barn.

  There was a chance Thaddeus made a massive miscalculation, and the boy was somehow involved, but if the lad were held close to the circle, it would be easier to catch him in a misstep. At least that was what Thaddeus told himself.

  The sun was up, the gray dawn still shrouded in fog. The small snack Thaddeus had scrounged did little to stave off his hunger.

  The wood floors announced the inn stirred, as feet trod their way back and forth. It was time for Thaddeus to start his day.

  The smell of food drifted up the stairs as he marched down, determined to have a better day than the past few. He planned to make a strong start, no matter how sleep deprived he was. Food in his belly and a few weak beers for breakfast would help start the day.

  Geovanni already sat at a table, an empty bowl beside him, a mug in his hand. Thaddeus started with a smile and a single nod. At least he received a nod in return. So far so good.

  The pot of porridge simmered next to the fir. He scooped up a large bowl of it, knowing it would be bland but filling.

  He sat across from Geovanni, not giving him a chance to turn him away. A server appeared with a mug that matched the scribe’s, complete with a chip on the lip, and a wood platter with slices of black sausage. This meal was more than Thaddeus expected from this tiny inn.

  Thaddeus let his bowl cool and said softly, “Let me say I am sorry for the way I behaved last night and the last few days. I wish I had an excuse, but there is none for my callous treatment of you.” He watched Geovanni’s face, reading any signs of the emotions that surely played just under the surface. The inquisitor had to admit the man could hide his feelings well when he wanted to.

  The scribe stared into his half-filled mug. When he finally spoke, he matched the tone and timbre of his partner's voice. “I will accept your apology if you will explain to me why you decided to bring the boy along.”

  Thaddeus took a slice of the black sausage and bit off a chunk. The chewing gave him a chance to think and choose his words carefully. “You asked that same question last night. Unfortunately, last night I had no answer. That was why I stormed off. I am a man of logic, and I had no logical reason to give you. I needed to reflect on the decision to discover why I let my emotions overrun my mind when it came to the events last night.”

  When the words came out, they sounded like more than he anticipated, but he needed the emotional scribe to understand his normal thinking style if they were to work together.

  “Upon reflection, I understand the boy might be involved, and I also understand the many reasons we do not need another soul tagging along getting in the way. I can provide a list of reasons why bringing him is a bad idea.”

  Geovanni held his tongue for once. He took a bite of the black sausage, washing it down with a sip of the weak beer.

  “As a person, I value courage and commitment. The boy showed me both when he saved my body from the attack.”

  Geovanni blurted out, “And if he is part of the plot?”

  “Then if he travels with us, we will be able to monitor his actions and keep a tab on his loyalties. Never fear, I will cover his costs. If it helps, you can think of it as God moving me to act in this instance.”

  Geovanni took another sip. Thaddeus could see the creases on his forehead deepen as he thought out the possible responses. The scribe finally said, “I accept your explanation and your apology. However, I need you to understand, the boy needs a bath and new clothes. I will not travel with him in the state he is now.”

  “In that, we are in complete agreement. I will speak with the lady of the house as soon as I eat.” Thaddeus took another bite of the sausage. He found it quite tasty. “I must say, this meat is delicious. I want to save some for the youth. Do you know what it is?” He took a spoonful of porridge, but it tasted bland after the garlic and spices of the meat.

  Geovanni picked up a piece and inspected the slice. “As a child, I grew up on something similar. It is called black sausage. It is made from pig’s blood. Those in the country will eat every part of the pig except the oink.”

  Thaddeus picked up a slice of the black round and inspected the cross-section. Such a simple thing as food. He doubted the two girls had been drinking the blood of the donkeys to survive. How hungry would he need to be to drink the blood of an animal fresh from the neck? Pretty damned hungry.

  Chapter 13:

  Rather than bother themselves to get the youth ready to travel, Thaddeus sent the lady of the house out to fetch Dani and get him cleaned and dressed in better clothes. He paid extra for her to find something that might be more approximate for a lad that served an inquisitor than the tattered, filthy rags he wore.

  The boy was returned to them… still a boy and yet unable to shave, it seemed. “He must be younger than his height suggests.” Geovanni crowed in laughter as Dani stood before Thaddeus for inspection. He looked thin, too thin. He needed more food, or a stiff wind would surely blow him away.

  With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the scribe’s chiding. “Never mind him. We will make a proper gentleman of you yet,” Thaddeus said while he draped a spare cloak over the young man’s narrow shoulders.

  Dani looked up at his savior, his eyes damp with tears of joy. “Lord, if I may. We should walk the animals. If they were bled, they might stumble with the added weight.”

  Thaddeus nodded agreement. “Fetch the rides and gather our things. We will walk until lunch, when we should be near the outskirts of Udine.”

  Geovanni didn’t speak a word, but his raised eyebrow said volumes.

  Initially, Thaddeus nearly told the scribe to go fornicate with himself in the kitchen but decided that was not the positive direction he wanted to take their relationship. Instead, he settled for, “You question the thinking of the young man?”

  The scribe headed for the door and the courtyard outside. “Not at all, I was just wondering if you would take my suggestion with equal and unquestioning acceptance.”

  Thaddeus nearly stopped for one more weak beer before they continued the journey. He would need it to keep the conversation positive between the two law professionals. “If you make a thoughtful suggestion, I would be more than happy to follow it.” Try as he might, there was still a little sarcasm in his voice. For once, Geovanni seemed to ignore his words.

  Outside, the sun was up and the fog had lifted, but the sunshine did little to remove the cold. If anything, the air felt crisp this far north. Thaddeus doubted the day would warm. The longer they traveled, the farther north they journeyed, near the mountains that marked the beginning of Switzerland and the kingdoms that lay farther to the north. Strange frozen lands this time of year, places Thaddeus had only read about, at constant war with the Ottoman Turks. Distant lands he never wanted to see.

  “…it would be nice if you would at least entertain my ideas.” Geovanni had kept talking, but Thaddeus had tuned him out. Even with his new-found commitment to be more kind to the scribe, he found it hard to listen to the man drone on after only a short time.

  Thaddeus said, “Please, tell me more.” He asked for it. Now his traveling companion had been given carte blanche to talk the entire stroll to Udine.

  Geovanni raised an eyebrow, inspecting Thaddeus, presumably checking him for any sign of jest waiting to be sprung.

  The scribe continued, “If we take for granted God is real, and his works manifest themselves around us every day. How can we not equally accept that the devil also has work to do in our world and strives to unseat us in our following of God?”

  Thaddeus headed for the gate and the path beyond, Geovanni at his left side, Dani behind a good portion with the animals. “I will concede your premise and the possibility that the devil works against humanity.” Thaddeus surprised himself at the way he accepted the scribe’s words. “What I might question is the instrument of the devil’s creation of intrigue. I contend that women are no more likely to be agents of Satan than men.”

  “An interesting conjecture, but if we accept the concept of original sin as taught by the church, then we must also accept that the female is much more… ready to sin than the male.” Geovanni beamed at the discussion.

  If Thaddeus had known that was all it took to keep the scribe happy, he might have discussed this days ago. “And yet if we look to the book of Genesis, Eve was created from the rib of Adam. Would that not make her an inseparable part of him, and as such, any evil that she was capable of must also come from Adam’s rib?”

  The scribe remained quiet while he pondered Thaddeus’s words.

  “If we assume a witch must make some pact with the devil to obtain her powers and sell her soul in the process, is that soul really hers to bargain with? That soul was assigned by God to her. In theory, she has no right to sell that which she does not own.”

  “Ha!” Geovanni jumped, skipping a step as they walked north. “By that thinking, no one should be held accountable for any action, no matter how grievous. If God made man in his image, anything man does would be godlike.” The scribe finished the sentence with a smug look on his face, like he won.

  “Now look who has turned to heretical thinking, comparing man to God. Careful now, someone might turn you in.” Thaddeus chuckled. “I can feel the fire warming for you already.”

  Geovanni’s eyes bulged as he thought over the words. His mouth flopped aimlessly.

  “Don’t worry, I will not turn you in. This is just a theoretical discussion between friends.” Thaddeus surprised himself when he called his traveling companion a friend. He was learning the man wasn’t all bad, only set in his ways and hard to convince there might be another path other than superstition or the religious, the way of logic and science.

  They continued in silence. This time allowed Thaddeus to think of the proceeding events. He had thought about actors and the roles they portrayed on stage and the way in which they entertained an audience. He knew a few of the better performers in Venice, and they taught him about the idea of a set routine, called a lazzi. The idea that charlatans could have devised the same stock routines to be used over and over intrigued him.

  The healing woman in the swamp leaped to the front of his mind. What if she wasn’t sick? What if she had no one in her house? What if she had a routine prepared that she would use when anyone came to her home to question her? It was dark, and the threat of the plague had kept even Thaddeus at a distance. A slight use of an actor’s makeup or possibly even some compound that left a rash might be enough to keep a threat at a distance. The fire might have been rigged to flame up at an appointed time, a convincing distraction to allow the healer to slip out the back and into the reeds. Even the woman’s manner of dress, the naked, scarred body covered in furs… Thaddeus doubted he could pick the woman out of a crowded room, and he was a trained inquisitor. All he recalled of her form were the bare breasts.

  The sun had crested overhead, and Thaddeus was correct, there was little warmth in the air. He shivered at the cold or the thought that hit him. Was he also a gullible fool?

  Ahead was a junction in the road with a sign visible at the intersection. The path to the left headed into the hills. He was certain they needed to travel to the right.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a noise that approached from the north, people singing as they walked south. The tone of their voices accompanied the sound of leather slapping on flesh.

  Before the branch in the road, Thaddeus stopped and pulled Geovanni to the side of the lane. Dani followed the pair and pulled the donkeys after them.

  Around the bend in the road, a procession marched and sang. In the lead, a small blonde child walked, her hands held in front of her as if in prayer. Following behind were three figures dressed in plague-doctor clothes, the long masks and leather cloaks making them look like demented black birds of prey. Behind the group was a half dozen men and women revealing exposed backs, each with a handful of slender willow branches. In time to the beat of the singing, they would slap their backs, one shoulder then the next. Drips of blood would fling into the air with each slap of the slender switch on their bare flesh.

  Two dozen more people followed the parade, all wearing filthy white robes held closed with a rope. Each waiting their turn to lead the procession.

  Stepping back, Dani and Geovanni both crossed themselves when the party came into full view. “By all that is holy,” Geovanni whispered.

  “God save us,” Dani mumbled at the same time.

  Thaddeus had heard of this religious order but never witness them in action. They were confined to the more rural parts of the world and mostly relegated to history. In this modern age, he had not heard of such religious zealots marching to end a plague. That they were led by a child caused him pause. What type of fool would follow a child on such a risky undertaking?

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17