1• PROLOGUE •

By Kraig Blackwelder, Myranda Kalis, Jonathan L. Shepherd,Adam Tinworth and Janet Trautvetter

VampireVampireVampire Vampire Vampire created by Mark Rein•Hagen

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2 • DARK AGES: INQUISITOR •• COMPANION •

CreditsAuthors: Kraig Blackwelder (The Ways of the

Faithful (The Lamp of Faith, Endowments, Curses,Merits and Flaws)), Myranda Kalis (Playing theInquisition (Life in the Church, The Inquisition inthe Church), Soldiers of God, Servants of Hell),Jonathan L. Shepherd (Playing the Inquisition(Sample of Play), The Ways of the Faithful (Orisonsand Holy Art)), Adam Tinworth (My Order, MyBrothers) and Janet Trautvetter (Prelude, Playingthe Inquisition (Serving the Inquisition)).

Storyteller game system designed by MarkRein•Hagen

Development and Additional Material: Mat-thew McFarland

Editor: Michelle Lyons Art Direction, Layout & Typesetting: Becky

JollenstenInterior Art: Mike Chaney, James Stowe,

Tim Truman, and John WigleyFront Cover Art: Adrian Smith Front & Back Cover Design: Becky Jollensten

© 2004White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights re-served. Reproduction without the written permission ofthe publisher is expressly forbidden, except for the pur-poses of reviews, and for blank character sheets, which maybe reproduced for personal use only. White Wolf, Vam-pire, Vampire the Masquerade, Vampire the Dark Ages,Mage the Ascension, Hunter the Reckoning, World ofDarkness and Aberrant are registered trademarks of WhiteWolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Werewolf theApocalypse, Wraith the Oblivion, Changeling the Dream-ing, Werewolf the Wild West, Mage the Sorcerers Crusade,

Wraith the Great War, Trinity, Dark Ages Storytellers Companion, Dark Ages Vampire, Dark Ages Mage,Dark Ages British Isles, Dark Ages Europe, Right of Princes, Spoils of War, Bitter Crusade, London by Night,Under the Black Cross, Cainite Heresy, Constantinople by Night, Jerusalem by Night, Libellus SanguinisI Masters of the State, Libellus Sanguinis II Keepers of the Word, Libellus Sanguinis III Wolves at the Door,Libellus Sanguinis IV Thieves in the Night, The Ashen Knight, The Ashen Thief, Road of the Beast, Roadof Kings, Road of Heaven, Road of Sin, Iberia by Night, Transylvania by Night, House of Tremere, Wolvesof the Sea, Fountains of Bright Crimson, Wind from the East, Veil of Night, Dark Ages Inquisitor, and DarkAges Inquisitor Companion are trademarks of White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Allcharacters, names, places and text herein are copyrighted by White Wolf Publishing, Inc.

The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages is not a challenge to the trademarkor copyright concerned.

This book uses the supernatural for settings, characters and themes. All mystical and supernaturalelements are fiction and intended for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content.Reader discretion is advised.

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3• CONTENTS •

Contents

Prelude: Woman’s Intuition 5

Introduction 15

Chapter One: My Order, My Brothers 19

Chapter Two: Playing the Inquisitor 51

Chapter Three: The Ways of the Faithful 91

Chapter Four: Servants of God, Soldiers of Hell 129

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Prelude: Woman’s Intuition

The questioning had been long, punctuated by thecreak of the rack and the cries of agony from the womanstrapped to it. The rack’s bone-wrenching strength andthe tireless interrogation of Sir Augustin were relentlessforces, allowing the woman neither rest nor pity as theystruggled with Satan for her immortal soul. In the end,the effort had been fruitful; Sister Mathilde’s fingers allbut cramped trying to get down the woman’s falteringconfession.

Mathilde did not pay much attention to the mean-ing of what she was writing. It took all her concentrationjust to keep up, letting the words flow from her ears toher fingers without filtering them with her mind. Thank-fully, Sir Augustin was an old hand at such interrogations;he waited until the scratching of her pen stopped beforeasking the next question, skillfully monitoring both thepace and clarity of the confession so it could be properlyrecorded.

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At last, Sir Augustin was satisfied. Even SirBaudioun, whose limited German prevented himfrom handling task of interrogation himself, couldfind nothing more to ask. One-Eyed Huart turnedthe wheel back, relaxing the rack’s tension, andthe two Red Sisters released the weeping Agnisefrom its bonds. Huart made sure the prisoner’smanacles were secured before allowing SisterMathilde and Sister Katherin to escort thewretched woman to her cell, a makeshift affair onthe women’s side of the chapter-house.

“She’s in your care, Sisters,” Sir Baudiounsaid, with Sir Augustin translating. “Take specialnote of anything else she says, and harden yourhearts to her pleas. Her confession today onlyproves what Brother Leopold first suspected. Thereis a foul nest of Satan in this city, and she is but thefirst we shall uncover; Master Nicolaus shall bethe next.”

“With all due respect, Sir Baudioun, SirAugustin….” Katherin shot Mathilde a warningglance, but Mathilde ignored it. “Her confession ishardly sufficient evidence to convict anyone butherself. Her accusation alone won’t be enough totry Master Nicolaus before the Council of Faith,much less bring charges against him before theSalt Merchant’s Guild.”

“We will be investigating her accusations thor-oughly, Sister, so you may put your mind at ease.”Sir Augustin’s voice brooked no argument, and adisapproving crease appeared between his bushywhite brows to signal his displeasure. “Your task isto see to this poor creature until the Councildetermines her proper fate.”

Sir Augustin turned away, but Sir Baudiounstopped him. Mathilde’s command of French wassufficient to dispense with Sir Augustin’s transla-tion, so Baudioun spoke openly. “Wait, Augustin.In Brother Leopold’s absence, Sister Mathildemay be able to assist us — she is his kinswoman,after all.”

“Sister Mathilde, my brother knight makes agood point. You are related to Brother Leopold,and a member of the house of Murnau….” Augustinpaused, awkwardly.

“He is my uncle, yes,” replied Mathilde in herbest French, “though I should confess, Brothers,that to me this poor woman smells of sweat andfear and unwashed clothing. Nothing more.”

“After that confession, are you doubtingBrother Leopold’s gift?” Sir Baudioun asked, as-tonished.

“No, Brother. I’m telling you I don’t share it.” Forwhich I thank God. She could see the disappointment intheir faces; so be it. Her own gift was less practical inapplication and rather harder to explain. “I’m told Ihave a good instinct about people, however. Sincenone of the Oculi Dei yet dwell in this city, perhaps itmight be useful if Sister Katherin and I spent some timelistening to the talk in the market —”

“They would hardly gossip in the presence oftwo holy sisters,” Sir Baudioun returned, frowningslightly.

“Then clearly we must put aside our habits forsomething less conspicuous, so they will talk morefreely in our presence. As the Rule permits — andwith your permission, of course, Brother,” Mathildeadded, seeing the frown lines reappear on SirAugustin’s forehead.

Sir Baudioun thought about it a moment, thennodded. “As you see fit, Sister,” he agreed, “but withdiscretion. We do not yet know the extent of the Devil’sconspiracy here. In addition, if you would have thetranscription of her confession prepared as soon aspossible, I would greatly appreciate that as well.”

†††It had been years since Mathilde had visited a

market. She’d forgotten the press of crowds; theclamor of venders shouting, arguing, haggling; thelowing of cattle and squawking of chickens; thesqueals of children running about underfoot. Allwas noise, chaos and disorder. It was a far cry fromthe order and quiet of the convent: the stillness ofthe cloister, the rustle of crisp parchment pages,the rise and fall of plainsong chant at services. Itfelt odd to wear a blue and brown matron’s plainkirtle instead of her red habit and surplice, asimple kerchief covering her cropped hair, herthroat bare of any wimple. Strange, indeed, toblend in with dozens of other women in the square,instead of being set apart by birth, profession, andthe curse in her blood.

“Master Nicolaus, he’s a good man, as fair inhis dealings as they come.” Ilse tucked away thecandles she had just purchased neatly in her bas-ket. Mathilde’s years in the convent had notprepared her for this task. Inside its walls, she wasone of the sisters. Her origin or birth was consid-

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ered unimportant, even irrelevant. Out here, how-ever, the sense of displacement was made moreacute by realizing that she was considered un-doubtedly foreign by those around her, truly apilgrim in a strange land.

Surprisingly, Mathilde’s strong Bavarian ac-cent had made Ilse less suspicious of her questions;perhaps she assumed none of her employer’s busi-ness rivals would hire a foreigner as a spy. Even so,Mathilde had to listen carefully, for Ilse’s broadlocal dialect was sometimes hard for her to follow.“Ten years I’ve been with him, and he and Mis-tress Anna’s been good to me. I’ll not spreadgossip; it’s careless words as raises an ill wind.”

“Oh, of course,” Mathilde assured her. “Mymother, God rest her soul, used to say the samething. You’re fortunate to work for a good Chris-tian man. My cousin once worked for a merchantin Hamburg that was like the very devil in hismoods. Never satisfied, he was: the soup was ei-ther too hot or not hot enough, and if you servedhim fish, it was chicken he wanted.”

“Oh, he’s particular enough on some things,”Ilse said, “but past those, whatever’s on the tableis good enough so long as I didn’t spend too muchfor it. He’s not one to tolerate the waste of eithera minute or a penny, is Master Nicolaus. There,now all I need is some onions and the cheese.”

Mathilde followed the cook as she wove herway in-between the close-packed stalls and clumpsof other market-goers. Ilse stopped in front of astall displaying a variety of vegetables and herbs asshe chattered. Mathilde pretended to examine thehanging herbs while she listened, her thoughtswandering as she nodded occasionally to keep Ilsetalking. Ilse clearly had a high opinion of hermaster; it was hard to think of a diplomatic way ofasking about anything Agnise had claimed. Wouldshe even admit to knowing Agnise at all? How didone ask for gossip from a woman she’d just met? St.Scholastica, Holy Mary, please guide my tongue andhers. Let her tell me what I need to know.

“There, that’s all but the cheese,” Ilse said,packing the onions away in her basket as well.“What have we here?” She gestured toward thebunch of herbs Mathilde was idly examining.

Mathilde touched the hanging bunch of green.“Rosemary. I’ve always liked the smell of it.”

“Ah, yes. Rosemary is sweet. But I’ve littleneed of it, more’s the pity.” Ilse began to walkagain, and Mathilde had to step quickly to keepup.

“Why not?” Mathilde asked.Ilse shrugged. “Well, it is for lamb. The master

cannot abide even the smell of it cooking — that’sone of the few things he’s particular about. Ah,here’s the brothers and their cheese….”

They stopped at a stall run by black-robedBenedictine monks and hung with cheeses ofseveral sorts. As Ilse haggled with one garrulousred-cheeked brother over the price of a brick ofhard cheese, Mathilde noticed a man lurking justone stall over. He seemed familiar somehow.

At first Mathilde could not place him, thenshe realized she’d seen him several times beforethat morning, always just a stall or two away. Washe following them? There were no Oculi Dei inLübeck. Who did that leave that might be inter-ested in her doings, or Ilse’s?

As Ilse paid for her cheese and added it to herbasket, their observer seemed to come to somekind of internal resolve and approached them. “Ibeg your pardon, Mistress,” he began. “You are inthe household of Master Nicolaus von Mainz?”

Ilse gave him a suspicious look and gripped herbasket tighter. “Yes.”

He offered a smile, though to Mathilde’s eyesit looked a bit false. “Then you would know mysister, Agnise.”

Agnise. Mathilde stiffened reflexively. Fortu-nately, neither of them were looking at her.

“I would, yes,” Ilse said. “I don’t recall hermentioning a brother, though.”

He smiled again, a bit too smoothly. “Half-brother, I should say. Perhaps that is why shedidn’t think to mention me. I am her only kin,nonetheless, and as such feel some fraternal con-cern for her well-being. I stopped by the housewhere I might expect to find her, but she wasunaccountably not available. No one seemed toknow where she might be.”

Ilse frowned. “Nor do I. I’ve not seen her sinceSunday a week ago.”

“Neither has anyone else. Surely you can un-derstand how this concerns me. After all, what

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reason could she have for leaving Master Nicolaus’sservice so abruptly?”

So, Agnise had been missed. Mathilde won-dered if this man was truly Agnise’s brother, oranother minion of the girl’s master who was sentout to find out her fate. She made as good a noteof his face and clothing as she could withoutappearing too obvious about it.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know. If I see her, though,I’ll be sure to tell her you’re looking for her.” Ilsegave him a stiff nod of the head, and started towalk by him. “Good afternoon.”

“As you are a Christian, Mistress, have pity ona brother’s concerns! Can you give me nothing ofmy sister’s whereabouts?” He moved to followthem. “I would hate to think she had reason to runaway, whether for shame or fear for her virtue —that would not bode well for Master Nicolaus’sreputation in the Guild.”

Ilse turned on him so quickly that he was forced totake a step back to avoid running into her. “As you area Christian, sir, you’d best be thinking of your ownsister’s reputation before you dare cast any stones! Nowbe off with you, and leave good folk alone.”

This time when Ilse strode off, he did notfollow. Mathilde was torn for the space of a breath— this brother might be a lead to Agnise’s de-monic master, if she could but follow him backfrom whence he came. Yet she would lose herfragile rapport with Ilse if she deserted her now. Inthe end, she followed Ilse, and prayed she mightmake good use of what she had heard at a moreconvenient time.

†††Mathilde returned to the chapter-house in

time to don her proper red habit again and join theothers for mid-day Mass. The Poor Knights de-parted immediately after Father Hermann’sbenediction. Sir Baudioun promised to read herreport when he returned, and once again asked herabout the transcript of Agnise’s confession.

That afternoon and most of the followingmorning therefore found Mathilde sitting at hercopydesk, working from her inscribed notes andrendering one full transcription in vernacularGerman for poor Agnise to sign later (in keepingwith canon law), and another in Latin for theInquisition archives. She did the German first,then rendered the Latin from it, line by line.

She was in the middle of a line when shestopped, struck by inspiration. She stopped, re-read what she had just transcribed, then checkedher own notes to ensure what she saw was correct.Now, that’s interesting…. She bent to her taskagain.

†††When the Poor Knights returned, Mathilde

was there to meet them. “Sir Baudioun. A mo-ment, if you please….” Mathilde hurried, takingthree steps to the knight’s two until he realized shewas trying to get his attention.

“Yes, Sister? Have you got the transcripts completed?”he added, noticing the leather folder in her arms.

“Yes, Brother. I wanted to draw your attentionto something. Look here,” she said, and laid thefolder down on a sideboard, opening it up todisplay the parchment sheets contained within.“Here, on page three, when she begins her trueconfession... she says that Master Nicolaus urgedher to eat meat on a fast day, and so they hadroasted lamb during Lent.”

“Lamb is flesh, sister. Especially during Lent.”“Yes, of course, but that’s not the point. I was

talking to Master Nicolaus’ cook yesterday, andshe said that lamb was the one flesh he could notabide. Couldn’t even stand the smell of it cooking,she said. And look here.” She flipped a few morepages. “Here she confesses that Master Nicolausgave her to this demonic creature Ambrosius,whom he did summon in the garden, and she laywith both of them. But look at the date she claims— the ides of November! According to the testi-mony that Brother Jander was able to get from theSalt Merchants Guild, Master Nicolaus was inLüneburg during that time.”

“Perhaps they thought he was, and he wasinstead serving the Devil instead of the Guild.Surely you do not doubt the sincerity of thisconfession? She could not have invented so muchwhile under such severe question!”

“No, that’s not it either. Look here, Brother...”Mathilde flipped back to the very beginning of theconfession. “Here, where she first begins her con-fession. The question is ‘Did Master Nicolausentice you to sin,’ not ‘Who enticed you to sin?’She only answered what she was asked, Brother. Ithink what she confessed was real, except for thename — she accused Master Nicolaus because she

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thought that was what we wanted to hear, and hemay not in fact be the guilty one at all!”

The Knight frowned at the transcript. “I com-mend you on your thoroughness, Sister Mathilde,but you are new to this city. We have knownMaster Nicolaus for a long time. A year ago, he satas magistrate for the city and let a known witch gofree — despite the testimony put before him fromour Order. I think it far more likely that Agnisemistook the date, or that Master Nicolaus onlypretends to dislike the taste of lamb — for there isno doubt he is in the Devil’s service, and I will findthe means to bring him down for it.”

“Still,” Mathilde persisted. “Perhaps she shouldbe questioned again—”

“God’s —” Baudioun cut himself off before theexpletive was finished, and took a breath to re-member propriety. “Your pardon, Sister — but donot concern yourself with chasing theories with-out substance. This…” he tapped the pages of thetranscript, “…is not enough to convict him, butwe have only begun our investigation. The evi-dence is there, and it will be found, I assure you.”

“Of course, Brother,” Mathilde bowed herhead. And I intend to find it.

†††Timing was important. Mathilde wore the

matron’s blue gown again and kept a sharp eye out— she did not want Ilse to notice her. Fortunately,she spotted her quarry on the western edge of themarket, scanning the crowd. Ilse was nowhere insight, but there was little doubt he was looking forher. Hopefully he would remember Mathilde aswell.

The man eyed her warily as she approached,but seemed intrigued by her whispered news andinvitation. “So that’s what he’s done with her,eh?” The fellow shook his head. “Afraid his fel-lows in the Guild would hear of it, no doubt.Where is she now?”

“I can show you,” Mathilde said. “But we mustbe quick. He keeps a close watch on her.”

“Lead the way. Don’t worry, Fraulein, I’ll makeit worth your while….”

†††The window overlooked an alleyway. It was

small and high enough that he could not see intoit — and see Agnise’s face only when she leanedout. Sister Katherin had cleaned the prisoner’s

face and combed her hair, put a proper kerchief onher, and now sat next to her just out of sight — areminder to Agnise of what fate awaited her shouldshe say the wrong things to her worried visitor.Mathilde pointed Agnise’s ‘brother’ to the rightwindow and made her escape, pleading fear thatshe might be seen — in truth, it was as much to getaway from his familiar leer as to preserve herdisguise. By the time they reached the house, shewas feeling quite inclined to slap him. She didnothing to give herself away, though, taking thecoin he gave her “for her trouble” and leaving him,slipping in the back of the house.

Agnise looked very ill at ease as she leanedtowards the open window. Not only was SisterKatherine sitting close by her, but One-Eyed Huartalso sat on a stool across the room, grinning andplaying with a length of rope he’d tied into anoose. Mathilde picked up a wax tablet and startedmaking notes on the conversation.

“Well, if you’re not pregnant,” came the sharphiss from the street, “then why in God’s name doeshe have you locked up?”

Agnise cast a desperate look at them, no doubtwishing she’d admitted to pregnancy to still hisfurther questions. “I… I don’t know, Martin. Goaway now, you might have been seen!”

“You know His Lordship is going to ask. Whatshould I tell him? Does Nicolaus know or not? Hemust be suspicious at least — why else would helock you up? If you’ve told him anything….” Helet the words trail off threateningly.

“No, no!” Agnise shook her head frantically.“No, I haven’t told him anything. Please tell himthat. I swear it, on my soul!”

“He’ll be asking about you tonight. You knowhe will,” Martin began slyly, and then his voicesharpened, its volume suddenly rising in fury evenas it turned away from the window. “You traitor-ous bitch!”

There were sounds of a scuffle in the alley anda grunt of pain from Brother Jander, who hadapparently not been as stealthy in his approach ashe had hoped. Huart leapt to his feet, pushed hisway to the window and sprang out, still holding hisrope.

Mathilde ran to the window as well, partly toput a firm hand on Agnise, lest she entertainsimilar ideas, and partly to see what was happen-

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ing below. Huart’s arrival had tipped the balance— he’d knocked most of the fight out of Martin bylanding directly on him. He was now sitting on theman’s legs, wrapping the rope around his prisoner’swrists.

Brother Jander looked up at Mathilde. “I’msorry, Sister, he heard me coming.” He had thesense to look a bit abashed. “Now we don’t knowwhere this fellow’s master will be tonight, or whohe is!”

Mathilde looked down at Agnise. “We don’tknow yet,” she said sternly, drawing on memoriesof Aunt Franziska. That woman’s glare could causeerrant squires to bend a knee and confess all. EvenCount Frederick’s most frothing pique was nomatch for Aunt Franziska’s artfully raised eye-brow. She hoped she looked half as imposing. “ButI’m sure we will very soon.”

Agnise whimpered softly. †††

Supper came and went. The brief service forCompline was held, and still the knights had notreturned. Mathilde found herself pacing in thehall and fretting, while outside darkness descendedon Lübeck’s streets.

“Brother, how long must we wait?” she de-manded of Brother Jander, as he came out of thelittle room that served as their library andscriptorium. “Tonight is the night, you heardMartin say it. Master Baldewin will be entertain-ing his dark patron tonight, and it will be our bestchance to prove his guilt — and catch his demonmaster as well.”

The monk frowned and tucked his hands inhis sleeves. “We can’t go without Sir Baudiounand the others. If this Ambrosius is a Cainite orsome other sort of devil, we will need their steel.”

“But we don’t know what time their meetingis. If we wait and Sir Baudioun decides to watchMaster Nicolaus’ house all night, we shall lose ourchance. God has given us this opportunity, Brother— we cannot waste it.” She moved closer andlowered her voice. “You said you invoked the HolyArt when Agnise was crying, and God showed youa warehouse near the river. You’d know it again ifyou saw it, wouldn’t you?”

“I think so….” “Good. Let us at least search for that ware-

house, then, and see if Master Baldewin or anyone

else visits there tonight. We can leave word withFather Hermann and he can tell the Knightswhere we’ve gone. We don’t have to do anything,Brother, if you don’t think that’s wise, but let us atleast watch as the Oculi Dei do.”

He hesitated. Just as Mathilde was about tostart yet another round of persuasion, however, henodded reluctantly. “Very well. But we’re justgoing to watch, Sister,” he added firmly.

Mathilde bowed her head respectfully. “Ofcourse, Brother.”

†††The city was quiet and dark; only a few faint,

flickering lights shone from upper windows as itsresidents prepared for bed. Huart carried theirlantern half-shuttered, so as to provide only enoughlight to avoid the worst of the street’s muck.Father Hermann insisted they bring Huart — notonly to satisfy the Rule that did not permit a monkand nun to be together unescorted, but also toprovide the added protection offered by the stoutclub that hung from his belt.

They walked west to the bridge over the Trave,but did not cross it. Instead they turned north,keeping the river to their left as Brother Janderhad seen it in his vision. They kept the lantern lowto avoid attention, having no desire to be delayedin their purpose by the questions of suspiciousguardsmen. To the right, the street was lined withtall, narrow brick houses, the lower floors of whichoften served as shop and warehouse for the mer-chant or craftsman who dwelt there. The left sideof the street ended in a stone quay, where theoccasional barge or other small river boat was tied.

Huart had quick ears — he pulled them intoone of the intersecting streets at one point andquickly shuttered the lantern. They ducked insidea door alcove and drew their cloaks around them.The clip-clopping of hooves and the tread of bootson cobblestones became clearer. A rider on a finehorse went by escorted by four guardsmen on foot,one of whom carried a lantern on a pole.

They waited for the procession to go by and letthe length of several Pater Nosters pass. “A man ofsome rank,” Brother Jander whispered to them. “Amaster of the guild, at least, and he seems to begoing where we are going. Most interesting.”

They followed cautiously, leaving their lan-tern shuttered. Mathilde blinked several times

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until her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Finally, shecould make out the looming heights of the build-ings and the shadowy forms of the boats on themoonlit river.

The man they were following stopped after ashort distance. Light flared onto the street from anopening door, and he was welcomed within thehouse. His men and horse went down a side street,presumably to the garden back behind.

They waited to make sure that no one waswatching, then drew closer. Brother Jander steppedout into the street. When he came back, he wasexcited. “This is it!” he said, a bit louder than heintended. Upon seeing the looks of panic onMathilde’s and Huart’s faces, his face flushed withembarrassment. “This is the house that Agnisesaw,” he added, speaking in a much softer tone.“This must be where they’re meeting; praise be toGod..”

“Thank God for revealing it to us,” Mathildeagreed. “A pity that Sir Baudioun is not here —he’s watching the wrong house tonight.”

“I could go fetch him,” Huart offered. “I knowwhere they are.”

“But the Rule —” Brother Jander sputtered,beginning his protest.

“— can be set aside if need requires,” Mathildereminded him. “And if you and I watch fromdifferent locations, that should be sufficient,shouldn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” he said, although he didn’t lookhappy. “Very well, Huart will go and fetch theKnights, and you and I will hide and watch thehouse. I suppose one of us should watch the frontand one the back — if there is a place to watch inthe front.”

“I’ll take the front,” Mathilde said. “I think Iknow a safe place.”

†††The barge seemed deserted when Mathilde

lowered herself from the quay to its deck, holdingon to one of its mooring-ropes for balance. Shehad already noticed that neither Brother Jandernor Huart had cast nearly as many wary looks atthe boats they had passed as they had at thedarkened windows of the houses themselves —she could only hope that held true of other passers-by as well.

This was a larger and cleaner boat than most. It hadan enclosed cabin to the rear and several large caskslashed in place near the front. Looking around, shefound a place to hide behind one of the casks where shecould see the street but was mostly hidden from it. Shepulled the hood of her cloak up over the white of herveil, the better to hide from an errant glance.

She’d only been there a few minutes when thefirst wave of nausea struck. She could smell noth-ing unusual — she never did smell anything — butsomething was happening, some unnatural powerat work close by. Such dark magics always madeher ill by their very proximity.

Close, she realized, too close. She started to riseand seek a different hiding spot, but the door tothe barge’s cabin opened and someone came out.Mathilde sank back into her hiding place andpulled the cloak around her, gritting her teethagainst the growing queasy feeling in the back ofher throat. Perhaps he wouldn’t see her....

A cold, clammy hand with a grip of iron closedover her mouth, and a damp, hard-muscled armlocked itself around her throat.

Mathilde’s hands flew upwards, digging intoher captor’s chilled flesh. She struggled to freeherself, but it was too strong. “Stay still,” it hissedin her ear, as it tightened its grip on her throat.She stopped struggling only when black spotsbegan to appear in her vision.

“Have you caught something, Grim?” Thevoice was soft, commanding, coming from theboat’s apparent master. “Bring it here. At once.”

Mathilde felt herself being hauled to her feetand pushed forward. “I found her,” her captorwhined. “She’s mine.”

“Come now, Grim. Don’t be greedy.” He cameforward to meet her, a young man with dark curlsand a handsome face, pale and bloodless as acorpse. His eyes were ice-blue and glittered in themoonlight; his expression sent a chill downMathilde’s spine. “And what have we here? Areyou lost, mistress? Seeking passage, perhaps? Re-lease her, Grim. I’m sure she knows better than toscream — don’t you, my dear?”

The clammy hands released her with a raspingchuckle. “Seeking passage, indeed!”

Fear gripped her belly and triggered anotherwave of nausea, making it hard to speak. Unholy

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powers. Somehow she managed to turn her gazeaway, which gave her a moment’s respite. “Prayexcuse me,” she said. The weakness in her voiceirritated and frightened her, which in turn gaveher strength. No Murnau runs from the Devil. “Iwas expecting to meet my brother, but clearly I amon the wrong boat. Your man is extremely rude.”

By the time she’d gotten to the end of hersentence, the nausea had faded and her temperhad roused itself, overpowering her fear. She turnedaround to give her attacker a blistering repri-mand, but the words died in her throat.

It was shorter than she, hunched and wiry,dressed in dripping rags. Its face was a hairless,ravaged skull, with barely a pit for the nose,and a lipless jaw sporting a handful of crooked,jagged teeth. It grinned — or at least thatmight have been the effect had it sufficientflesh on its cheeks. The actual result was far toogruesome to be genial.

“Demon,” she gasped, startled. She took aninvoluntary step backward, clutching at herstomach.

“Yes, I’m afraid he is quite the little mon-ster, isn’t he?” the soft voice continued in herear. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, turn-ing her away from the thing and toward thebroad expanse of the river. “But don’t worry,my dear. I won’t let him hurt you. I do thinkyou owe me an explanation, however, as to whyyou’re on my boat.”

“I told you,” she said, raising her chinproudly and turning away from him. Keep himdistracted. Keep him looking at you, not towardsthe shore. “I was looking for my brother. Mar-tin.” She improvised, hoping her luck wouldhold. “Do you know him?”

“Ah....” His voice changed from suspiciousto satisfied. “Yes, I do. I’m surprised he’s nothere to introduce us properly, but I supposewe’ll have to make the best of it.” His handsslid down her arms caressingly, and he bentcloser as if to kiss her cheek.

Mathilde stepped away quickly, suppress-ing the involuntary shudder that came over herat the mere thought of those cold, dead lips onher skin. “We’ve still not been introduced,”she said primly, stepping away from him andtoward the barge’s cabin.

There was a rasping chuckle from the demonat her words. The man turned on his lackey witha hiss of barely suppressed fury. “Another wordfrom you, Grim, and you will go hungry tonight.”He then turned back to her, crossed the distancebetween them in two long strides. With a vicioussnarl, he spun her around and pushed her againstthe cabin wall. “Enough playing harlot games,woman!” he said. Before she could resist, he rippedthe veil from her head, and then the wimple fromher throat as well.

He stopped then, staring dumbfounded at hercropped hair and finally recognizing her red habitfor what it was. “What the — you’re a nun? Whatwas Martin thinking? What good is a nun to me?”His voice rose dangerously with every word; hisfury beat at her, his fingers digging into her shoul-ders like an animal’s claws. Bile burned in theback of her throat and her stomach churned dan-gerously, but she could not risk becoming ill now.Weakness would mean her death.

A wave of relief swept over her (accompanied byoverwhelming nausea) when she glanced over theCainite’s shoulder, desperate for a sign from God.Miraculously, she spotted a white tunic with a brokenred cross appearing out of the darkness above them onthe quay. Oh, thank God. She let it come then, vomitingforth a bitter flood of bile and ill humors churned up byungodly arts and the curse in her blood. Her captor criedout in disgust and let her go, quickly stepping back toavoid soiling his clothes. He found himself facing a fargreater danger, however, as Sir Baudioun jumped downon him from the quay.

Mathilde dropped to her knees, still retching,spitting out the last foul dregs from her mouth asshe tried to stay low and out of the way. By thetime she was able to look up again, the battle wasover. The Cainite was prone on the deck with astake protruding up from its chest, the once-hand-some face frozen in a terrible grimace. Its severedarm lay nearby, a long knife falling from its with-ering fingers. Augustin stood over the charred,broken remains of the hideous Grim, stampingthem into ash.

“Sister — are you alright?” Baudioun steppedcloser and extended a hand down to her. Grate-fully, she allowed him to help her to her feet. “Areyou ill?” he asked, bending a bit to peer into herface. “You’ll pardon me, but you look terrible.”

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1 3• PRELUDE •• WOMAN’S INTUITION •

Mathilde managed a brave smile, and ac-cepted the cloth Brother Jander offered her towipe her mouth. “By God’s grace, I am quiterecovered. Thank you, Brother.” For such agraceful recovery of her dignity, Aunt Franziskawould have been proud. She could not help butadd, however, “I think you’ll find the rest ofthis creature’s accomplices in the house there,if they have not already fled. This includesMaster Baldewin of the Salt Merchant’s Guild,with whom it appears Agnise is most intimatelyacquainted.”

“God’s blood, woman!” Baudioun grinnedand shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ve gotmen at all the doors. We’ll have to go have alittle talk with Master Baldewin very shortly.You Murnau, you never give up, do you?”

“No,” Mathilde said, a wry smile on her lips.“We don’t.”

“Good,” Baudioun replied. “Because if you’reright — which I am almost willing to concede —you’re going to have a lot of transcripts to do.”

“Of course, Brother,” Mathilde said, andsmiled.

†††

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