Free Daughter of Magic - Wizard of Yurt - 5 by C. Dale Brittain, Brittain

them on Antonia if she was stil speaking to me. There was the one where I pretended to snip off a girl’s nose with my fingertips, then presented a plausible ilusory nose for her inspection, or the one where I tossed a butter knife in the air, went to catch it, gave a bloodcurdling yel and presented my arm with the hand “cut off,” that is made magicaly invisible. . . .
    But I shouldn’t be distracted. “This man, Celia, has apparendy persuaded the bishop that he has been touched by God, but I’m suspicious of him. He’s hiding from me—which is part of the reason I’m suspicious. So I need someone who has a pure religious vocation, but someone who doesn’t automaticaly agree with, the bishop on everything, to find out more about him.”
    “More about him?” said Celia, sounding bewildered.
    “Find out why he’s suddenly appeared in Caelrhon, how he’s doing what look like miracles—but maybe aren’t—learn how deep are his religious convictions: al the things the bishop is unwiling to ask him.” She gave me a level stare. “You’re asking me to do something behind His Holiness’s back?”
    “Wel, yes, I guess so. But I can see,” I added hastily, “that it was probably wrong to ask you, that—”
    “I’l do it, Wizard.”
    “You wil?” I said, startled.
    “Women often understand people, both men and women, better than men do,” she said firmly. “This way I may be able to help the Church if your suspicions are accurate.” She suddenly grinned. “And if I can show the bishop my powers of spiritual discernment, he may realize he’s made a big mistake. Now, tel me more about this man.” An hour later Celia rode away from the castle toward Caelrhon, teling me she hoped to be back in a few days and would send me a pigeon-message in the meantime if she discovered anything interesting.
    Hildegarde decided at the last moment to go with her, announcing that no future duchess should ride across two kingdoms without an armed warrior to accompany her and protect her. The twins had ridden up from the ducal castle unescorted, and Celia had dismissed my suggestion that a few of the castle’s knights ought to go with her to Caelrhon, and without Paul there to back me up there was no way I could change her mind.
    As I watched the twins’ horses disappearing, I hoped that the bishop would not be too insulted at my sending a woman to prove him wrong.
    Antonia, stil partly asleep, came out with me to see them off, trailing her dol behind her. “Before I took my nap, Wizard,” she said, “you picked me up without touching me and lifted me high in the air. Is that magic? Can you do it again? And you have to teach me how to do it to Doly.”
    With the duchess’s daughters gone, Antonia ended up on my couch that night in spite of Gwennie’s concerns. I was sound asleep when the clang of sword on sword resounded in the courtyard.
    Not Paul again! I thought, swinging my feet reluctantly out of bed. But it could not be the king returning to the castle late because he had been here for dinner, too absorbed in the Lady Justinia even to notice that the twins were not there until someone else asked about them.
    There came now a hoarse shout and the high winding of a horn—the watchman’s alarm signal, which I had never actualy heard used before. The horn’s note blew a second time, then abruptly was cut off.
    This wasn’t just someone playing a joke on the night watchman. He was in serious trouble.
    “Stay here!” I cried to Antonia, who was sitting up, wide-eyed and clutching her dol. I slapped a magic lock on the door as I swung it shut behind me.
    Justinia’s elephant trumpeted in the stables, and shouts and clangs came from elsewhere in the castle—I was not the only one to hear the watchman’s horn. But I was the first to the gate.
    And saw row after row of warriors marching in across the drawbridge: shadowy, armored shapes, naked swords in their hands, and eyes that I could have sworn glowed in