He slammed a fist against the mantel. The three officials peered at one another uncomfortably.

"Well, thats precisely what troubles us all in these wicked times, Your Eminence." Father Sebastio watched him carefully as he chose his words. "Weve just been through the darkest of days involving the Seat of the Vicar of Christ. Weve all had to exercise prayerful consideration of our actions. The terrifying fact is that, for a brief time, it seems that Evil occupied the pontifical dais."

"Sacrilege," Izquierdo accused harshly.

"No-truth," Sebastio countered. "The Holy Father-elect has taken great pains to examine the chaotic manipulations of his unlamented successor. Acts were set into motion which are even now being reconsidered, abolished. These include Anton Balaeriks sinister Brotherhood of Holy Arms. When I learned of Gonjis fate I was, by divine fortune, in Roma. There were others there at the time privy to knowledge of Gonjis encounters with Evil in Europe. In working closely with the Office of the Faith, I was able to discern that hes even regarded as a holy warrior in some quarters. His Holiness became sufficiently intrigued with the case that he ordered it brought to the attention of the High Offices headquarters in Roma. And he selected me and my party to convey Gonji there immediately. Not as a prisoner but under protected status."

Izquierdo stared at him as though espying some corrupting ma.s.s. "Youve all been driven mad by this pagans evil magic. I cannot believe any of this. You, Roderigo-the Papal Nuncio! I can understand Martins twisted thinking and crumbling faith. Hes entertained the heathens fulsome notions since he was brought here-and dont think it hasnt been duly noted, Martin! But the Nuncio-and the papal seat itself? It is well that the Inquisitions strength is concentrated here in Spain, where the good fight of faith has always been fought most fervently. Where the reigning monarch recognizes the need for the Church to exercise its power without interference!"

"He usurps that power-cant you see what youre saying?" Father Martins face contorted with bewilderment.

"Si, I know what Im saying, and I know what youre all about. You wish to wrest my position from me!" He stormed on, heedless of their looks of grim realization. "You dont understand, do you? I am Grand Inquisitor. And by order of the Inquisition, the heathen shall burn tonight!"

"Who is your master?" Father Sebastio bellowed at him, suddenly losing his composure.

Bishop Izquierdo pointed skyward. "The Lord G.o.d of Heaven. And who is yours, Father?"

Sebastio ignored him. "And who is His representative on earth?"

Izquierdo stiffened. His eyes shone with inner light. "You cant entrap me with your childish ploys. You yourself have admitted of the aberration in the papal succession. You say prayerful consideration is necessary. And I have considered. In Spain, the Inquisition upholds the banner of faith. And in Spain, King Philip reigns."

The Grand Inquisitors jaw jutted, his posture one of smug defiance. The others began to shift uncomfortably. Father Sebastios burly frame edged closer to him and met his eyes searchingly.

"Will you release Gonji Sabatake to me?" he asked forcefully, freighting each word.

"I shall release to you his ashes in the morning."

"Will you permit me to see him, speak with him? I bear him news of his father and his homeland."

Izquierdo snorted. "And subject you to his spells? You are here under my protection, Father. No one is to go near him until tonight. The army has moved him into the high prison tower. He is out of my hands now."

Father Sebastio shook with barely contained anger. "Your Eminence, your piety turns to venom even as you solemnify your inhuman office. I suppose this will solidify your position, politically, if what Ive heard of the Duke of Lerma is true. Machiavelli, I think, would have approved."

The bishops lips trembled. "Leave me alone with my G.o.d. And may He forgive you-even as I shall."

"Mil gracias," Sebastio said. "A thousand thanks."

"I fear were all in terrible danger," Archbishop Texeira told them in the hall.

"How so?" Father de la Cenza asked gravely.

Texeira eyed Sebastio, and Gonjis former confidant engaged Martin in a low voice. "How long have you worked with him?"

Father Martin shrugged. "Seven, eight years-long before he became the Inquisitions Grandee. Why?"

"Then you might have become inured to it," the Nuncio noted. "I suggest that your consideration of a new ministry might have come just in time."

"Why? What are you getting at?" Martin asked in confusion.

"I believe, Martin, that Bishop Izquierdo is quite mad."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

The intense heat of the Burning Courts flaming pillars rolled up the face of the high tower, warming Gonjis face even in the autumn chill, the inky smoke stinging his eyes.

Night had seemed as though it would never come. And then when it did, it felt as if the pa.s.sing day had been but a momentary glimmer. The samurai could not remember anything he had done since the previous night.

He could not come to terms with this night. Could not reconcile himself to the fact that his present life was fated to end in so ign.o.ble a death.

He heard the changing of the guard without the chamber, distantly, recording it duly as was his wont, but caring nothing about it. Not bothering to watch them through the wrought-iron window slit in the ma.s.sive door. All the changing of the guard meant was that someone had been spared the killing blow he had decided to unleash on the first person through the door when they came for him.

They had unshackled his feet, and he intended to use them.

Gonji kept peering through the gunloops at the ghoulish ceremony below, as a procession of cowled monks bearing censers and upraising tall cruciforms ushered the condemned to their stakes. The throng beneath the tower heated up with the Inquisitions surrogate h.e.l.lfires, antic.i.p.ating the events to come with macabre delight. The prisoners, in various att.i.tudes of surrender and horror, mounted the platforms to their waiting stakes. They were the preliminary event, whetting the crowds appet.i.te for Gonji, the main attraction.

And among them was Valentina, barely perceptible through the smoke and glare and press of shuffling forms.

Then, all at once, it did begin to matter that the guard shifts had changed. Gonji heard behind him the infuriating voice of Sergeant Padilla.

"So, Senor Witch-the moment of truth at last. Will Satan wrest you from the flames, only to tickle you with his own?" He laughed coa.r.s.ely.

Gonji sighed, beyond exasperation. So he thought.

"Who do you watch down there? The s.l.u.t? They should have stuck the two of you together on the same stake, no? Would you like that, barbarian swine? You could screw yourselves right into h.e.l.l."

Gonji gritted his teeth. His belly churned, and blood thrummed in his ears. Control. You pride yourself on control.

Padilla bore onward: "No, I dont think theyre doing it right. Id have done it better-is she screaming yet? You know what I think I would have done? The first burning f.a.got would go right up her filthy hole." He made a vulgar grunting sound for emphasis. Then ugly laughter.

Gonjis dry mouth clucked. "Cholera," he whispered, fighting back a furious sob.

In the back of his mind he thought he registered a haunting voice calling his name from some dim recess of memory, but it never broke through his roiling emotion.

The first explosion on the walls of the Zocodover came just after Padillas vile laughter strangled off with a thin squeak.

A second blast followed it, amid screams and the rush of the rolling waves of bodies that strove to escape the shards of rock that showered down.

Gonji gasped and strained at the gunloop.

Another explosion-and the clawing at the door.

He rushed to the grating, eyes narrowing as he focused on the struggle against the door. A mighty forearm had caught Padilla about the throat, seeking to crush his windpipe. Gonji could not see their heads from his angle, but the a.s.sailant was about the size of the big sergeant.

Simon? His mind galloped gleefully.

No, not Simon. Burly, thick-chested, a bear of a man-an ox.

Buey.

The lancer was dressed in the uniform of the Inquisitions elite guard. Padillas face turned purple as Buey squeezed, twisting an arm behind the mans back. He spoke softly to him, grated through clenched teeth, as he strangled the life from the taunting trooper.

Another explosion below. Gonji cast about wildly for a way to vent his pent-up emotion. He moved to the gunloop again, remembering Valentina. He could not make her out below. Some of the stakes had flared to life, roasting stooped victims; others had not yet been ignited. The troops and clergymen scurried about in confusion. Shots rang out in the promenade. Blades gleamed in the light of the flaming pillars.

"Gonji-vamos!" Sergeant Orozco, dressed in the same uniform and half-armor as Buey, appeared in the doorway. "Come on, hombre. Its great to see you, mi amigo, but well have to save all that for later. It wont be long before they think to send reinforcements here. Theyre sure to think about you."

Another shattering explosion, farther along the promenade.

"One more left, I think-lets hurry!"

"Is Salguero with you?" Gonji asked, inching back from the smoky view afforded by the gunloop.

"Si-hurry now."

As if in response, Captain Salguero himself now appeared outside the doorway dressed in officers garb. He rushed in and clasped Gonji by the shoulders, eyes shining with restrained tears of joy.

"Thank G.o.d youre whole, mi amigo!"

Gonji swallowed and bowed to him. "Domo arigato, senchoo. I had given up all hope."

"Here, put this on p.r.o.nto," Salguero ordered, as Buey tossed in the uniform and half-armor of a dead guard. "We hold only this tower. I dont think weve been discovered yet, but weve got to get out of this keep. Your shoulders seem bony, but they left you all your parts, no?"

"Hai," Gonji answered as he stripped quickly and wrestled on a pair of breeches and boots. "I trust you have a good plan for getting away from the square."

"A sort of plan," the captain responded, eyeing his companions. His infiltrators now lined the corridor, breathing heavily and awaiting their next movement. "We blend in with the troops restoring order, mostly. Theyre fighting the diversion fires outside the walls. Theyre all on the south side. We make our way against the flow, to the north."

"The river?" Gonji queried, perplexed.

"Si. We take a barge down the Tajo to Aranjuez. Then we dash-as though all Satans devils pursued us, and so it will seem-making our way to the sea. We take ship near Valencia."

"Valencia?" Gonji c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Nothing but rocky shoals."

"Then what do you suggest-Barcelona? We wouldnt be exactly welcomed there," Salguero said.

"Mmm," Gonji agreed pensively. "Then?"

Salguero shrugged. "On to Genoa, then up to the empire. You have friends based in Austria, near Vienna. That will be sanctuary until we see what were about."

Gonji considered it as he finished dressing, clamping on a pikemans pot helmet. Something vaguely bothered him about this itinerary, but he dismissed it. "This is a crazy commitment for you, Hernando. What of your family? Those of the other married men in your rebel command?"

"They join us in Valencia."

They locked eyes, and Gonji reached out in unaccustomed fashion and clasped his old friends hand.

"Someone coming!" came a rasp from down the corridor.

Weapons were brandished anxiously. The dead guards were dragged into Gonjis prison chamber. Two loaded pistols were pa.s.sed along to Gonji. Then Buey unstrapped the blanketed burden from his back.

"Almost forgot." He grinned broadly.

"Yoi!" Gonji exclaimed to feel the comforting heft of his daisho again. He belted the swords and at once extracted his katana from its scabbard, eyes gleaming to see the heavenly wave pattern of the blade. It felt heavy in his battered hands. Hed lost strength despite his close-quarter training in the dungeons.

Hisses urging silence- Gonjis cell door was slammed in his face. Three troopers rushed up from below. They were not with Salguero. Approaching to speak with the captain, they were suddenly alarmed by something or someone out of place. They produced their weapons but were overcome in a brief, quiet scuffle.

"No pistols unless absolutely necessary," Salguero warned. "Lets go, Gonji."

"Wait," the samurai said, freezing them in place. "That woman down there at the stake. If shes alive, I want her brought along."

"Que? That trollop?"

"What for?" Orozco argued. "We have enough trouble-"

"Just get her and bring her, por favor."

The pleading in the samurais voice won an exasperated nod from Salguero. He sent three men to comply.

"And one more thing," Gonji added. "Ive got to go down into the dungeons after something."

"What?! G.o.d d.a.m.n it! Are you crazy?" the captain railed. "What in h.e.l.l for?"

"Theres something I must retrieve, if its still down there."

"Im not going down there," Orozco grumbled. "s.h.i.t! The dungeons of the Inquisition-he wants to go back to them!"

"No ones asking you to go along, Carlos," Gonji noted, checking the priming of his pistols.

The final explosion rocked the Zocodover. A babble of frenzied voices rolled up the walls from the streets below.

"Capitan-thats it," a lancer called from the hall.

Salguero hawked and spat when he saw the familiar adamant set on Gonjis face. "All right, we go, then."

"Not you, senchoo. Theyll need your leadership outside. Just give me someone you trust."

"Ill go, Ill go," Orozco grumbled.

"Forget it, Carlos."

"Why?" the sergeant contested. "Suddenly Im not good enough to fight at your side?"

"Gentlemen-por favor! More troopers coming!"