Free The Book of Life by Deborah Harkness Page B

Baldwin’s—or Matthew’s.”
    “You took a cleaver to Gerbert?” I liked Ernst more and more.
    “That would be an exaggeration,” Ernst said, turning slightly pink with embarrassment.
    “I fear that Phoebe is trying diplomacy,” Verin interrupted, turning me around and facing me in the direction of the tussle. “That never works with Baldwin. We must go.”
    “If Ernst is taking a knife, I’m taking the dogs.” I clicked my fingers at Hector and Fallon and set off at a fast trot, the dogs following near my heels barking and wagging as though we were playing a grand game.
    The second-floor landing that led to the family apartments was crowded with concerned onlookers when we arrived: Nathaniel, a round-eyed Sophie with Margaret in her arms, Hamish in a splendid silk paisley bathrobe and only one side of his face shaved, and Sarah, who appeared to have been woken up by the fracas. Ysabeau exuded ennui as if to say this sort of thing happened all the time.
    “Everybody in the salon,” I said, drawing Sarah in the direction of the stairs. “Ernst will join you there.”
    “I don’t know what set Marcus off,” Hamish said, wiping the shaving cream from his chin with a towel. “Baldwin called for him, and it all seemed fine at first. Then they started shouting.”
    The small room that Philippe used to conduct his business was filled with vampires and testosterone as Matthew, Fernando, and Gallowglass all jostled for the best position. Baldwin sat in a Windsor chair that was tipped back so he could cross his feet on the desk. Marcus leaned on the other side of the desk, his color high. Marcus’s mate—for the petite young woman standing nearby must be the one I’d heard so much about, Phoebe Taylor—was trying to referee the dispute between the head of the de Clermont family and the grand master of the Knights of Lazarus. “This strange household of witches and daemons you’ve gathered must disband immediately,”
    Baldwin said, trying without success to rein in his temper. His chair dropped to the floor with a bang.
    “Sept-Tours belongs to the Knights of Lazarus! I am the grand master, not you. I say what happens here!” Marcus shouted back.
    “Leave it, Marcus.” Matthew had his son by the elbow.
    “If you don’t do exactly what I say, there will be no Knights of Lazarus!” Baldwin stood, so that the two vampires were nose to nose.
    “Stop threatening me, Baldwin,” Marcus said. “You aren’t my father, and you aren’t my master.”
    “No, but I am the head of this family.” Baldwin’s fist met the wooden desk with a resounding crash.
    “You will listen to me, Marcus, or accept the consequences for your disobedience.”
    “Why can’t the two of you sit down and talk about this reasonably?” Phoebe said, making a rather courageous effort to separate the two vampires.
    Baldwin snarled at her in warning, and Marcus lunged for his uncle’s throat.
    Matthew grabbed Phoebe and pulled her out of the way. She was shaking, though more from anger than fear. Fernando spun Marcus around and pinned his arms to his sides. Gallowglass clamped his hand on Baldwin’s shoulder.
    “Do not challenge him,” Fernando said sharply, when Marcus tried to worm his way free. “Not unless you are prepared to walk out of this house and never return.”
    After a few long moments, Marcus nodded. Fernando released him but remained close.
    “These threats are absurd,” Marcus said in a slightly more reasonable tone. “The Knights of Lazarus and the Congregation have been in bed with each other for years. We oversee their financial affairs, not to mention help them enforce order among the vampires. Surely—”
    “Surely the Congregation wouldn’t risk de Clermont family retaliation? Wouldn’t violate the sanctuary that has always been afforded to Sept-Tours?” Baldwin shook his head. “They already have, Marcus. The Congregation is not playing games this time. They’ve been looking for a reason to