Dark Ages Clan Novel Toreador: Book 9 of the Dark Ages Clan Novel Saga by Janet Trautvetter

Author:Janet Trautvetter [Trautvetter, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: vampires, horror
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2019-04-29T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Magdeburg, Saxony

The Nones of May, 1226

“Your Highness.” Lord Hardestadt’s envoy was an elegant Lombard, whose mantle was of black silk velvet lined with a darkness that eddied and flowed in a most disquieting manner, like some sort of animate ink. He bowed respectfully, Rosamund observed, but not too deeply; perhaps he wished to remind Lord Jürgen that he represented the prince’s sire and liege—or perhaps it was simply pride. “Allow me to congratulate you on your recent safe return from the wilderness of Hungary—I bring greetings from your most sovereign liege, Lord Hardestadt, Monarch of Bavaria, Swabia, Franconia, Savoy, Lorraine, Bohemia, Saxony, Lombardy, and Thuringia.”

“We thank you, milord Ignatio, and welcome you to our court,” Lord Jürgen said evenly. He was wearing his order’s habit this evening, the white surcoat with its black cross over well-polished mail, a white mantle lined in sheepskin, and a white linen coif over neatly trimmed hair. The contrast between the humble garb of the military order and the almost decadent finery of the Lombard envoy was hard to ignore.

“Your Highness, it would please milord Hardestadt to renew and strengthen the ties between his court and your own with an exchange of envoys; by milord’s grace and with your Highness’s permission, it would be my honor to serve as milord’s envoy in your august court, and I present to you my commission from his own hand, and bearing his seal.” He proffered a rolled parchment, bound in a ribbon and sealed with wax.

At a signal from Sister Lucretia, Brother Renaud went up to receive the parchment. Lord Hardestadt’s envoy studied him curiously for a moment, then nodded, and handed the document over. Renaud brought it back to Lucretia, who examined the seal before proffering it to her lord. Jürgen broke the seal, gave the top page of the document a cursory glance, and then passed it to a brother who was acting as his secretary for the evening.

“Let it be recorded then, that we accept Lord Ignatio Lorca of Pavia as the official envoy of our sire, Lord Hardestadt,” Jürgen pronounced, and the clerk made notes in his book. “We welcome him to our realm, and grant him leave to dwell herein and claim such rights of us as befits his commission and rank, which shall include the house set aside for such purposes and those who dwell within to be his lawful chattels.”

Lord Ignatio bowed again. “I thank your Highness for your welcome and your generosity.”

Rosamund had once heard Sighard, in one of his more expressive moments, refer to a Cainite court as a gathering of vultures waiting for one of their number to die so they could devour him. Rosamund had experienced the full attention of such vultures when she had arrived in Paris. Despite the fact that Magdeburg was but a quarter the size of Paris, a frontier outpost on the eastern marches of the Empire, the vulture analogy was no less true here. The vultures were fewer in number, but that did not make their hunger any less.

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