All the Plagues of Hell by Eric Flint & Dave Freer

Author:Eric Flint & Dave Freer [Freer, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Alternate History, Urban Fantasy
ISBN: 9781481483612
Google: ooIitAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1481483617
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2018-12-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

The Duchy of Milan

Francisco and an escort of a hundred men left the next day to take the valuable captives—nobility and gentry who had been part of the Scaliger army assembling in Goito—to Milan. For Carlo Sforza’s soldiery, they represented the potential of a handsome profit, as they would be ransomed when the conflict was over, unless Milan was overrun.

Francisco was still moving a little gingerly after his wounding, but giving himself a professional assessment, there was no reason that he shouldn’t ride. He also wanted to get across to Pavia and see how Carlo was doing. At a guess, the Mincio border was quite secure for now, and young Captain Pelta seemed to have it all well in hand.

Passing over the Naviglio Grande, Francisco had a twinge of guilt to add to the ache in his shoulder. He needed to send a message to Marco. He decided that, once the prisoners were safely bestowed, he’d go to see the bookseller and ask if he had a cantrip that sounded plausible enough. Valdosta, much deeper into researches of the magical, would probably laugh at it and at him, but that was what you got for attempting deceit.

He found “Master Kazimierz” ensconced and comfortable in the large house at Val di Castellazzo, and his two servants rather bewildered by it all. A number of salons had been extensively shelved by workmen, and the men were now engaged in carrying in crates and bales. Emma was overseeing them with a rod of iron, no less effectively wielded because she couldn’t speak much of their language. Master Kazimierz was in fact out in the workshop with his bombardier, she informed him. Francisco was plainly an honored visitor by the low curtsey he got. She would have him called immediately.

“Please to come in to the green salon, sit. There would be wine brought immediately.”

“And how is your man?” he asked.

“Muddling his brains with reading! As if a blow on the head was not enough!” She dimpled, her pride enormously obvious. “He spends all day looking at the books. He showed me some of the words and what they mean. The master encourages him. Our master is too kind and too clever.”

Kazimierz arrived a few minutes later, smelling strongly of burned powder. “Ah. Caviliero. An excellent man you have sent me. He’ll be the death of me yet. I am joking, Emma,” he said hastily to the woman bringing the wine and sweet almond biscotti.

“She is very protective,” he explained in an amused tone to Francisco, after the young woman left. “I don’t know how I survived without them, for so many years.”

“They haven’t been with you long?” asked Francisco.

“No,” said Master Kazimierz. “A few months, although it does seem much longer. I picked them up on my travels.”

“Oh. They behave like hereditary family retainers. Grown up in your service or something. Normally, the ones like that are old and wrinkled, loyal to the death and can tell you about Master so-and-so’s first steps, and every wonderful thing he’s done since—and will, if they are given half a chance.

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