Free Beautiful Blood by Lucius Shepard Page B

You’re more versed at it than I.”
    “Your men,” said Ruiz. “They witnessed the event.”
    “They’re good lads,” said Arthur. “They know how to hold their tongues. They’ll bear witness to whatever they’re told to.”
    “As, I’m sure, will your priests,” Rosacher said. “And if we both stand behind the story, who’s to gainsay us?”
    Ruiz rested the point of his chin atop his clasped hands and nodded. “It’s very neat. I can see no flaw. None that would be an impediment, at any rate.” His smile seemed the article of an oily complicity. “Everyone expects a loose end or two where religious matters are concerned.”
    “It’s settled, then?”
    “I can’t speak for Mospiel, but once they’ve studied your proposal I have little doubt that they’ll seize the opportunity to enter into an agreement.”
    “Very well, then!” Rosacher stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “Now all we need is a priest to stand in for the murderer.”
    Ruiz gaped at him.
    “The common folk loves their executions,” said Arthur. “They don’t never feel so right as when someone’s dancing the Devil’s Jig.”
    “Do you have a true believer among your priests?” Rosacher asked. “Someone young and naïve who’ll perceive his sacrifice as necessary for the good of the Church?”
    “It’s best when they go to the gallows all pale and stricken,” Arthur said. “It don’t really matter if they proclaim their innocence. People’s blood is up and they’d drop the trapdoor on his High Holiness himself just to watch his heels kick.”
    Ruiz’s expression swerved between outrage and bewilderment.
    “Surely you didn’t think this gain would come without some trivial cost?” Rosacher asked.
    “Trivial? You call a man’s life trivial?”
    “I believe you yourself expressed a similar idea,” said Rosacher. He pretended to search his memory. “How did you put it? Something about the life of one man…”
    Ruiz came to his feet. “I’ll have nothing to do with this!”
    “Your participation would facilitate matters, but it’s scarcely essential. I will, through some agency, succeed in gaining the prelate’s ear. You might consider how it will go for you when Mospiel learns of your reluctance to pass on a lucrative offer. I understand you have friends in high places, but the church has been uniformly repressive of those who stand in the way of its profit. I feel certain they would thwart any ambitions you harbor with regard toward advancement in the hierarchy. And that may be the least consequence of their displeasure.”
    “But why a priest? Surely you can find a more credible scapegoat? ”
    Arthur stepped to Rosacher’s side. “Would you prefer we plucked some poor lad out of Morningshade?”
    “Because I want you to bleed,” said Rosacher. “Apart from that, it will go down well with the citizenry. Your priests are commonly seen in the brothels, and there is resentment over the fact that they proclaim themselves pure while wallowing in the same mire as do ordinary men. Such a sacrifice will help the church’s reputation more than it will impeach it. Imagine the sermons you’ll be able to preach. You can exult in your shame, make a pageant of public humiliation. It will humanize Mospiel, set a penitent face atop its bloated body. But you must decide now. I won’t waste more time on this. Should you choose to die a martyr to the cause, my men have work to do.”
    “Would you condone such a slaughter?” asked Ruiz, appearing shaken. “How can you possibly profit from it?”
    “Fewer priests, for one,” said Arthur.
    Flatly, without a trace of sarcasm, Rosacher said, “What are the lives of a handful of priests when measured against the good of the Church?”
    “What choice do I have?” Ruiz waved weakly in the direction of the rectory. “Take whomever you wish.”
    “No, no,” said Rosacher. “The process of selection should be an informed one. We’ll leave that little chore